vintage
Vintage poetry stands the test of time; collections and anthologies of classic poems and enduring verses from eras past.
Summer Sonnet II
It was the fourth of June, summer soon here. The farm house rattled from winds yet unknown. Just home from the pub, and filled up with beer,
John Oliver SmithPublished 3 years ago in PoetsSummer Sonnet I
Snows of winter melt always into spring, Income tax returns in C-R-A hands. First a crow arrives, then a robin sings
John Oliver SmithPublished 3 years ago in PoetsSummer Waves
A pool! A pool! the cousins all proclaimed with eager, longing joy that broke the ice of years apart, so shy, and words constrained,
Maria Shimizu ChristensenPublished 3 years ago in PoetsA Peter Frampton Summer Day
A Peter Frampton Summer Day By Donna Magnani-Convertino ’Twas a day so far away Though I vividly remember when- The phonograph spun repeatedly
Donna Magnani-ConvertinoPublished 3 years ago in PoetsThe Dirt and Grime on the Big Apple
NYC in the 70’s. What a time it must have been. Warhol, Steely Dan, CBGB’s the bohemian mixed with the bourgeoisie. Enough money to rent a Leer jet on the
Steve B HowardPublished 3 years ago in PoetsThank You
Thank you Just so you know you weren’t a big mistake But you weren’t like other friends The chemicals of brain and heart
Gillian Lesley ScottPublished 3 years ago in PoetsA World Nonexistent
Who ever said Reading did not control emotions Always buying one more Even if you have a pile of unread lighter pieces
Victorian BlackPublished 3 years ago in PoetsDulce Nectar de la Vida
Preoccupied in the shower She missed her favorite part of the song Singing with her eyes closed She soaks in the steam for so long Step out to wipe the gloom from the day Arcadian dreams she carries Energy effulgence, she has time to play Stare into the mirror Admire her sensuality Shedding her skin so maliciously Rejuvenating her sexuality Throw on a luxurious rosy gown and imagine herself near the sea On a balcony is where she long to be Fawned over by the palms Listening to Bossa Nova songs In love with the sea A relationship where she belongs Sipping dulce nectar de la vida The finest of teas Dragging her femininity along She is strong and they were wrong.
The weight of love
The I of me is soft, at times. Others—delicate, complex, resilient. Not unlike my grandma’s quilt. Squares of polyester bell-bottoms that wore-through at the knee
Miriam LurexPublished 3 years ago in PoetsPrimary Colours
The seventies lived loud and bright My childhood painted with their light TV the only black and white. My favourite jeans were violet cords
Alison LloydPublished 3 years ago in PoetsOrange
I never really appreciated the sun And how it introduced orange to a new morning that struggled to escape the darkness I remember how I first learned to smuggle bits of happiness from the horizon
Jamar TravisPublished 3 years ago in PoetsMaking ME
What is it that makes me unique, special to this world? We are all part of the human experience, each unique in our particular way.