Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
writer name : Nadeem shah I was born with dial-up dreams and Ethernet veins, Logged in before I could spell my name, Taught to swipe before I learned to write—
By Nadeem Shah about a year ago in Poets
Upon a pedestal carved in grace, Where shadows dance and stars embrace, A wand of power, old and wise, Stirs silence with enchanted sighs.
By Fazal Malikabout a year ago in Poets
In twilight’s hush, upon worn wood, An ancient tome in silence stood. Its pages curled with whispered age, Yet danced like spirits on a stage.
In a velvet night where silence hums, A magician stands — the showman comes. With eyes like still and stormless seas, He bends the stars with practiced ease.
In the hush of a moonlit sigh, so deep, Where stars above and waters sleep, A single rose begins to weep— Its petals hold a dream to keep.
In the hush of dusk, a figure stands, A whisper carved by unseen hands. No face, no name—just shape and shade, A soul where silent storms cascade.
There lies an old secret in flowers so still, No face to be seen, yet hearts they thrill. The bouquet she held with fingers so mild,
In the rhythm of life, where melodies entwine, Good music takes us on a journey, divine. Harmonies weaving, like a tapestry so bright,
By FAITH LOVEYabout a year ago in Poets
Trumpets sound to the tune of my own creation A tune for me the god you see ~ Flying high, swollen pride, 30,000 feet,
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
Ode to Roddewig (A sub-par celebration of a top-tier friend) How do you rhyme Roddewig and make it flow like a jig? Why does a judge wear a wig?
my mind crawls like heavy scribbles by my 5 year old hands, I remember being Taunted by a old couple that accused me of putting things on their car
By Melissa Ingoldsbyabout a year ago in Poets
She lifts the flowers to the sky, so wide, As if her heart with them would glide. A scarf of peace, a robe of grace, No sorrow dwells upon her face.
