art

Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.

The Gravity in Eden
our bodies are graves where angels die and stars learn to breathe and the only difference between good and evil is the absence of ignorance if it’s the seed of the tree that dies and is buried then bears fruit forever is then a series of here and nows that are brief yet repeat what then can we learn of the consequences of love, light, and death it must be the gravity in eden falling in the age of reason even God has secrets
By Beth3 days ago in Poets
The Gravity in Eden
he stood naked and bitten numb to the gravity in eden eyes blinded by the sun you’re all i saw her whispers echoed waking in another dream concrete and blood glass and steel tearing across a perfect sky now veins of fallen angels bleeding through cities where the trees once reached the stars where they once soared with angels and eagles remembering breathing and the absence of God
By Beth3 days ago in Poets
The Gravity in Eden
maybe there’s no difference seeing two sides of the same tree a man discovers a woman for the first time it takes darkness to see the stars that always there then why is the sun the only exception the forbidden is often just a veil of ignorance looking for the light of naked truth climbing the ancient branches of the seeds waiting to bear fruit within them maybe there’s no separation of dark or light gravity changes according to the mass of the falling object adam killed the serpent after it frightened eve learning the nature of evil and like gravity the changing nature of truth
By Beth3 days ago in Poets
A HEART CAUGHT IN THE THOUGHT WAVES OF LOVERS
A HEART CAUGHT IN THE THOUGHT WAVES OF LOVERS My heart got caught between your thoughts, somewhere between your love and mine, where every word we never spoke kept circling back through borrowed time.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 4 days ago in Poets
Hedgehoggery
Introduction When I first saw this, the John Cooper Clarke poem came to mind: This is where he lives This is my seventy-ninth piece inspired by Angie Livingstone's magnificent artwork.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 4 days ago in Poets
The return of the Evergreen Coleridge
2000 years gone but now your back home. Forever and a day the Coleridge way. There was a wolf you see he loved to be among the trees, now the wolf is free. His fur grew back like leaves on his tree.❤️
By Sabrina Spellman- Kallie Coleridge Venturini5 days ago in Poets
The Halloween alien chase
The Halloween alien chase It was Halloween evening the kids knocked every door when something flashed above the trees then landed with a roar
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 5 days ago in Poets
10/2/26
I’ve forgotten more than I’ve written Poems of pain Poems of being smitten My body riddled by riddles Curing me with their cancer
By Atomic Historian5 days ago in Poets
The Art of Being Seen
The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls. I think about that sentence sometimes, and I think maybe people can do that for one another, too.
By Zakari Runge5 days ago in Poets
Valerie and her week of wonders
Good night, my magician, hear your fairy, hear how she sobs. Hear how she weeps in despair, the night weaves her mourning veil.
By Sabrina Spellman- Kallie Coleridge Venturini5 days ago in Poets
How My Love Blooms for You
How My Love Blooms for You My love blooms for you In colours I never knew, It grows where my heart was empty, And makes the old feel new.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 6 days ago in Poets
Dropping
Help me get up Pressure slammed my body My left arm is hurting 🌑 Shadow trees sway through the night The city is dark
By Rick Henry Christopher 6 days ago in Poets