Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
River stones aglow, silver hush between the reeds— silence holds the sky.
By Printique Studiosabout a year ago in Poets
*PLEASE LISTEN TO THE SOUND WHILE YOU READ MY POEM* ~ This is how I remember it. First, it was dark. Then the hum, then a hand.
By Kodahabout a year ago in Poets
Go on and suck it up, You think you won the race Bruh, chill You’re coming in last place Lame-ass homie, I’ll buy your flimsy neck a brace
By Sam Spinelliabout a year ago in Poets
losing the ways to see each other clearly one fish, desiccated and unscripted drying with my humor on the line written on the linen
By ⸘jason alan‽about a year ago in Poets
played from within a single note i always have to explain the joke because i am still the funniest guy i know layered like the scramble
I saw you once, and time stood still, A glance, a smile—I felt the thrill. The world grew quiet, soft and wide, With you, my heart had found its guide.
By Ameliaabout a year ago in Poets
The sky hangs heavy, white with glare, The sun a fire no shade can spare. Each breath I take feels thick and slow, The earth beneath begins to glow.
I used to count the freckles on your shoulder like stars that promised something bigger than time. We weren’t saving seconds—
***if you are in immediate danger, call 911. for confidential support and resources, you may contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1.800.799.7233(SAFE)***
The poet had been absent for a long time. He had a serious trauma. He started to drink excessively for four months. Today, he was finally able to stop.
By TheNaethabout a year ago in Poets
I travel along this great big, beautiful road I see the moonlight shine through the trees Stars twinkle above giving a luminous light on my surroundings
By Judith Jaschaabout a year ago in Poets
Your family has the means to send you to university. Children must grow up independently. Poets grew up similarly. When children rebel, moms and dads repeatedly lie.
