vintage
Vintage poetry stands the test of time; collections and anthologies of classic poems and enduring verses from eras past.
Mother Says
Another day at school and I am ready to retreat As the bell rings, I grab my things and head on down the street I stop by a soda shop nearby and get myself a pop
Joshua ScottPublished 7 years ago in PoetsWindows 95
There are endless reflections Of my former selves Versions of truth Like previous versions Of an operating system That no one likes to think about
A. R. AmbrosiPublished 7 years ago in PoetsAn Unlikely Pilgrim
From the Princess’s Prologue Alone in her travels throughout the night Was a lass whose skin so pure and light Born of royal blood when snow lay fresh
Victoria ShawPublished 7 years ago in PoetsParadise Lost
Paradise has not been lost, but found again, In time, in every sleeping second, Weathered by the grinding of sin’s teeth
Rose ReadePublished 7 years ago in PoetsPlace for You
(German perspective) There's a place for you, But I refuse to believe I can forgive you For your disgusting atrocities.
Sonata
Eulogy to a player piano played only by mice. Strings twang untuned as little ones scurry from A to B flat. The dusky sonata
Jamie WilkinsonPublished 7 years ago in PoetsBlouse
Her blouse is livid with loose ends of string intertwined like feasting garden-worms. That pompous scuffed tortoise-shell button
Jamie WilkinsonPublished 7 years ago in PoetsRebirth
In the edges of darkness, a fire blazes. A masking color of orange consuming the skies. Black clouds blot out the moon and stars. It spreads farther and farther, collapsing wood and bushes, consuming all life. Time only causes more destruction.
Starlight WolfePublished 7 years ago in PoetsPapyrus
The withered planes of aged papyrus read like shallow pools of cryptic braille. Alleviating the curiosity of tentative fingertips,
Jamie WilkinsonPublished 7 years ago in PoetsKing's Honour
It was his birth right, what was rightfully his, it seems His spot on the throne his father once sat upon It took more than a birth right to make him King though
Shannan Cimino StewartPublished 7 years ago in PoetsHome
Walls coloured custard with faded silk stripes, edges eaten into threads by starving insects. Crying from dank, rot-punctured ceilings,
Jamie WilkinsonPublished 7 years ago in PoetsRuins
The colossal pillars of chipped marble Stand together like jilted lovers, Sharing secrets in stiffness, And crumbling.
Jamie WilkinsonPublished 7 years ago in Poets