vintage

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

Steven Baldry2 years 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 years 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 years 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 years 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 Dutta2 years 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 Hoskins2 years 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...
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 Nicholas2 years 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 MBE2 years 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 Nicholas2 years 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...
Mish Graham2 years 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 Rumancek2 years 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...
Courtney Hughes2 years ago
A Soldier's Diary
How can something meant for protection Be twisted around To cause me affliction Wandering around I no longer know me No longer do I understand where I've been All that is kept Is memories of me Memori...
NV
Nathan Veasey2 years ago
The Book of Hell and Paradise
Have you ever wondered how we got the idea of such a thing as heaven or hell? Well, it all started out with humans. Our minds are massive and we can't help that we are curious. It is literally wired i...
Johnny Vedmore2 years ago
Hannah for Hannah Cullwick
Crocus and Hartshorn washed off knives. A 'Dumb Waiter' delivers perriwinkles. The Footman's pantry is empty. Gall of Bullock and Beeswax shelved for future need. 'By cane or by birch the clergyman sh...
Melanie castillo2 years ago
I Have an Old Soul
I have an old soul My soul is the soul that once danced with the gypsy nomads, laughing with no care but to live passionately and love freely. It is the soul that has been touched by the good Victoria...
Teela 2 years ago
My Name Was Caoimhe
Here is what I know: My name is Caoimhe. My wife cannot say my name correctly, but I cannot say hers either, so I suppose that is fair. My wife, Adalheidis, pretended to be a man for a long time. This...