vintage

Vintage poetry stands the test of time; collections and anthologies of classic poems and enduring verses from eras past.

5/1/25
I sit here hugging the ocean And yet I hold nothing Choking on tears of fear Of futures lost Was it just a stepping stone
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
She Stood in the Rain
“She Stood in the Rain” She stood in the rain, not hiding her soul, With eyes like the hush where the thunder won’t roll.
By Kamel Saidaniabout a year ago in Poets
A love letter to everything I have survived
Darkness in its deepest sonder, desolation in its truest bareness, all embraced my shattered skin, Enclothed in the tightness of survival, the light that belied in its invisibility propelled me to keep my hope akin.
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Poets
The Fall Of Gareth
And so it came to pass ordained by fate, begun in such glory, that the acts of one altered the course of great Britannia. Gareth, clad in cloak of red torn from foe by his brother Gawain, from Orkney southward in silent excite, they journeyed.
By Matthew J. Frommabout a year ago in Poets
My vent on love
If I sat with silence and I mean, truly sat, it wouldn’t take long for my mind to commit adultery betraying the stillness,
By Dabout a year ago in Poets
"Echoes of the Soul"
Beneath the sky, so vast, so wide, I wander lost, with none to guide. The echo of my heart’s desire, Still burns within, a flickering fire.
By Sen Sababout a year ago in Poets
"Whispers of the Heart"
In the silence of the night, When stars above begin to sigh, A voice inside begins to rise, A longing born of quiet cries.
By Sen Sababout a year ago in Poets
London Bridges History
London Bridges History London Bridge, where heads once swayed, On spikes they hung, in tar arrayed. From traitors’ necks, the blood had drained,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
A Poor Man’s Son
He wore old shoes and had empty dreams, A coat too thin for winter’s schemes. His pockets empty, hands worn thin, Yet still he wore a tired grin.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
No King of Mercy
Do you think the world is ruled by honest hands? That men ascend through fate and pure demands? No—power bends to those who shape the tide,
By Aafaq Ahmedabout a year ago in Poets
The Guiding Star
A compass spins, uncertain, free, Until a magnet's pull takes hold, you see. So too, our spirits drift and roam, Until a purpose calls us home.
By Tafsirul Talukdar luvdoabout a year ago in Poets
Dormant Giants
This poem is an existential cry, echoing the struggles and yearnings of our daily lives. However, beneath this metaphor lies an ode to one of Earth’s most ancient and abundant biological entities. ChatGPT guessed its identity, but can you? The answer is revealed at the end.
By Matt B.about a year ago in Poets