vintage

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

wHOMEsome
Home is where the heart is, At least that’s what they say, To each and every person Born here day-to-day. A homey-ness we all so crave
By J.Bee5 years ago in Poets
ISBILTUR
Home is New Jersey. Birthplace. Jersey Girl forever. Down the shore we go. A smooth, ivory swirl, rests upon a large tree bark colored cone. Before my tongue can feel that first icy burn, vanilla drips on my new Granimal shirt. Charcoal scented air floats on warm July breezes. In a few hours, lightning bugs will make their debut, setting summer skies aglow. Childhood magic.
By Kelly Girnas5 years ago in Poets
Babinski
Babinski? Ho! Do I know him? Why ask such questions on a whim? He’s never angry, never cruel… Of course, he only had a duel.
By Erica Nicolay5 years ago in Poets
1977
1977 Three days on, three days off Three nights on, three nights off Each shift twelve hours Christmas included The life of a firefighter
By Lynn Henschel5 years ago in Poets
Freedom's Fight
Brother’s in the army, They took the cows away, And Mother’s working on the farm, But Willie’s here to stay. It gets so lonesome quiet like
By Erica Nicolay5 years ago in Poets
Yotrrundork Snythconfounded
“All the ground was wet and cold, And those that traveled were young and old. Of all who came, there was one so bold... One so bold,
By Erica Nicolay5 years ago in Poets
Jack Frost
You whisper in every ill-prepared ear, “Summer’s over--winter’s here.” You wisp and swirls a mass of thick vapor, Round your victims with dry limbs outstretched--
By Erica Nicolay5 years ago in Poets
One Saturday Morning
What is home? The nose knows Of weekend morning coffee wafting up the stairs Mom making French toast all for me My brother, "eggs with yellow in the middle"
By Karli Law5 years ago in Poets
Just Wait 'til Mom Gets Home
Just Wait ‘til Mom Gets Home By Cleve Look what you’ve done in the bathroom Toothpaste, brushes, and paper on the floor
By Cleve Taylor 5 years ago in Poets
“home”
I miss the sense of what it felt like to be home, at one point it was sitting between my mother and father, muzzled next to them,
By Isabella Vedro5 years ago in Poets
open doors
first moment on earth ..... wrapped in my nursing blanket so tight in my mothers arms safety, was all i felt to know this person holding me would love me for whatever becomes of me;
By Gerina Hill5 years ago in Poets
Mirror Images. Top Story - September 2021.
Deep within the mirror I see you captured there My every line your wisdom Your laughter, your prayer. I see what life has given you
By Marie McGrath5 years ago in Poets