vintage

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

Complacency
Complacency is the leading cause of injury in the workplace. Cut keys too many times without using your gloves and you might get cut. Put the ladder away improperly and it may collapse on someone. Cut...
BD
B Day6 days ago
Mess
"I am a mess” I say, more sure of it than before I was 22 And less sure of why. “I am a mess” I say, unapologetically, not seeking councel It’s a matter of fact. “I am a mess I say, replaying Joni Mit...
CW Miles9 days ago
The Calf
The Calf I’d spotted her early on a Saturday morn She just kinder got my attention She weren’t nothing special, jest another newborn And no remarkable traits to mention So I marked her down in my tall...
k annea month ago
Numbers.
kilograms, 73; brothers, 3; years, 18; worth, 34; beauty, 7.5; courage, 4; anxiety, 11; happiness, 3; minutes, 5; minutes, 4; minutes, 3; minutes, 2; you, 1; me, 0.
Steven Baldry2 months ago
My Christmas Carol
I wonder if I were to be visited by 3 Ghosts... What would be the lesson that I would learn most ? Would I change my ways just like Old Ebenezer ? Would I even be open to conceive them. As I sit here ...
Amariah Torres2 months ago
We Art Not Frighted
We art not frighted from the bloodied field; Hearts becoming of a kingly knight's shield. We art not thy's intricate game thee wields, Grazing our ope body whence merely peeled. We art not undone by E...
Mike Day2 months ago
Upon A Sinking Ship
So be it far from me to dwell on matters such as death, to rue the day I cast off the shackles of life and plunge into those icy blue depths. Perhaps it shall be quick, though I doubt that to be so, f...
Robyn Welborne2 months ago
Boogeymen in My Closets
Boogeymen In My Closets: I. Now I lay me down to sleep Beneath my bed I dare not peek. Under the covers my head to take Tuck'd up tight until morning's break. II. Second night I'm down to sleep Still ...
Ria Dutta3 months ago
World of Silence...
“Can you think of a world where there is silence everywhere? No outcry, no laughter… No noise at all… All that reigns is deadly silence!!” As you throw out the words, As if they’ll traverse through va...
David Hoskins3 months ago
Death is Death
There’s only two kinds of people: Those who do this [ ] with Their controller when Super Mario has to jump And dead people. Hand and eye are so rarely coordinated in the Dead folks I’ve seen. I know b...
Charles Hernandez3 months ago
The Concrete Jungle
White and yellow, peering through dark structures. Structures that touch the sky's heels. Cars honking, roads roaring, people yelling and hollering. Walking through the streets, smelling the aroma of ...
Louis Nicholas3 months ago
T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land"
"The Waste Land" is a wrathful attack on modern civilisation, stretching not only to the horror of the Great War but attacking the society that bore it. In his sobering evocations of ancient myths and...
Robyn Keeble MBE3 months ago
Lord Henry Wotton
Across a room I glanced Meeting auburn eyes That captivated my youth and held the universe inside Never have I seen two windows so wide open As words flowed I could feel My world into being being spok...
Louis Nicholas3 months ago
Homeric Heroism
To what extent did Homer view Odysseus as a heroic figure? Throughout the Odyssey, Homer emphasises Odysseus’s heroism whilst subtlety insisting on his self-sabotage. Odysseus’ heroism is shown by his...
Paco Taylor3 months ago
Crows (Ode to Van Gogh)
Arles, 1890 "I must hurry. Time is running out. So little time left for me to paint!" He worked himself as a slave, drove himself like a locomotive. And possessed by the love of his craft, he hastened...
Mish Graham3 months ago
Across Many Waters ​
Lonely on a bus to the shore Feelings are expensive The day’s not done but I minus well be… I breathe into this deep space inside my chest That I didn’t know was there before. And I asked, “When’s the...
Rachael Rumancek3 months ago
The Story of Christmas' Eve
Hidden away among the coastal Maine cold, Lies a love story of sorts that has yet to be told. Swaddled closely I held her so dear, As the final hour until Christmas drew near. Humming softly to her th...
The Values of Old
Books and stories can reveal much about the author who wrote them and the period at which they lived. Whether it be their dialect or actions, characters tend to reflect how people were during that tim...