art

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

Indefinable
I love the moment when I can find that stillness, when my body no longer feels like a weight that I have to carry, and it feels like whatever it is
By C.M.Dallasabout a year ago in Poets
Light breaks Water
Light breaks water blinding and reflective do dreams come true, please.
By Mark Grahamabout a year ago in Poets
Layers of Love
Beneath soft morning’s rose-tinged light, our shadows stretch like whispered truths— draped over the bed’s worn quilt, we breathe in sync, undone at the seams.
By Muhammad Saeedabout a year ago in Poets
Reclamation of Freedom. Content Warning.
I did not celebrate today. This had to be written from my thoughts floating through my brain and dreams of the absurd, reality, life, freedom & humanity. I wrote today as we are now in a dystopian authoritarian society. I relinqished my hate and moved towards grief, then I moved towards oppression of depression. Meditate with spacey bassline centered music. Two earths are circling the universe. Earth 19 and Earth 12 are of equal distance as I remain in the in between of time and space at 75.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
Finding that "second little person"
No matter how organized or disorganized one’s life may be, everyone has some form of routine. We wake up every day, eat, work, sleep, and life goes on. Through it all, the lines blur and many aspects of life may seem insignificant. Through Matt Maltese’s song 'Little Person', we hear his perspective on this, as he emphasizes finding the love of his life.
By Rachel Andrewsabout a year ago in Poets
I am made of decay
Rotting teeth fall like autumn leaves out my decaying mouth god(,) let me rot Do not fear the onslaught of flesh decomposing off bone,
By Kathryn Kluttzabout a year ago in Poets
A Painting’s Pain
These eyes, painstakingly painted, somehow still stare Despite the daunting decades that Taunt me, haunt me Sketching the cruel concept:
By maryrose amandaabout a year ago in Poets
Mismatched. Discarded. Forgotten.
A pair made for each other, one always finding its way from the other. A pair made for each other , yet the other never returns.
By Nawrah about a year ago in Poets
Doubt Knows, Too
some days, the future doesn’t shine— it just feels heavy. like someone whispered you came here to do something big, but you still don’t know
By Liora Vogel about a year ago in Poets
Earth 12: The One That Still Had Recipes. Content Warning.
I wrote this after one big ugly bill was passed. My anxiety was filtered through light to music & prose. Artguru Earth 12: The One That Still Had Recipes
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
Between an Artist and a Scientist
Juggling multiple layers every day, leaving trails in my wake. Time to retrace my steps, and view it all anew. A fresh perspective awaits.
By Sun Beeabout a year ago in Poets
Scroll
Scrolling, scrolling, down, down, down Through the death spiral of society Trying to wake up Wanting to make up for time lost
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets