Vintage poetry stands the test of time; collections and anthologies of classic poems and enduring verses from eras past.
"Who knocks?" "I, who was beautiful, Beyond all dreams to restore, I, from the roots of the dark thorn, am hither.
By Raj Karki5 years ago in Poets
Out of the past there rises a week - Who shall read the years O! - Out of the past there rises a week Enringed with a purple zone.
Losing the interest of what we did Let’s take another step Always heading towards the back end of the stick You see my reflection
By ABJ5 years ago in Poets
Every time my worries you sweep, Down my heart you go so deep, I give you my word and I shall keep, I’ll pray to you before I go to sleep.
By waqar jameel5 years ago in Poets
I was lonely, upset and broken, I had nothing to be done or spoken. You changed my life to a better version, And taught me to fly when I was fallen.
Pops, or American Haiku, were a form used by Jack Kerouac that has greatly inspired me. Here are some Pops that I wrote back in 2016.
By Joe Nasta | Seattle foodie poet5 years ago in Poets
In the quarter moon years, I discovered Paz as a quartet, Of life, pus, milk and death. Littered between temple and morgue of everyday life,
By Rana Ansar 5 years ago in Poets
Swirling around, thin rimmed vessels of earthen clay, soothing souls, sitting here awhile, to pray. Touch my lips with encouragement and validation,
By Rowan Finley 5 years ago in Poets
Sceneries seem to make people wander in them, Though nothing stands in front of the night. Lost in darkness, the only light is the shining stars,
It said money can’t buy love, Neither can you gain it through shove, For this is something precious, Though not taken seriously will turn to be acrimonious,
Know if I die young, I will be sorry for the disappointment, Sorry for breaking your hearts, Sorry for welcoming your tears too early,
I trace the cracks on my bedroom wall to see where I bleed Red leaks from the splits and this time I don't rush to clean them
