art

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

The first time
the sunlight casts a glow through the shadow of the leaves dancing on the pavement like the break of water on the sea raindrop kisses cover my face
By Raine Fielderabout a year ago in Poets
Again
It happened again, Ending every night with a tear stained pillow, Wishing for the unexpected, but instead I receive familiarity,
By Nyesha Moniqueabout a year ago in Poets
Love Contained
I see your face in my dreams. I am unafraid. Because I see softened pain, Love contained. I would place my hand upon your face
By Shannon E. Mackabout a year ago in Poets
A Lopsided Moon
You ever feel the sky leaning in, like it’s got something half-finished to say? The air tonight tastes like old secrets— carbon warmth clinging to skin,
By Printique Studiosabout a year ago in Poets
The Poet’s Cup Is Never Empty
The Poet’s Cup Is Never Empty Stacked like chapters, bold and bright a mug of books, a brew of light each sip a verse, each line a flame
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
all that's left
I asked you to write down whenever you thought of me so I could know the times I was eating you alive but I didn't realize that you are acid and I am not a noble metal and I thought I could forget about you but you flow through my veins and eat away at my brain and pretty soon all that's going to be left of me is you.
By Melynda Klocabout a year ago in Poets
Alaskan Bend
Flowing down this sub-arctic stream, looking around for any silver gleam. We paddle on toward better looking holes, striving to fill our ever growing goals.
By Toby Hewardabout a year ago in Poets
The Weight of a Whisper
The words cling like dew to the edge of my tongue, Too heavy to speak, too light to be flung. I gather them close in the cage of my chest,
By Just One of Those Thingsabout a year ago in Poets
The Art of Almost
We were a brushstroke shy of bloom, A melody just out of tune. A clock that stopped at not quite now, A handshake made without a vow.
By Just One of Those Thingsabout a year ago in Poets
A Conversation Between Yesterday and Tomorrow
Yesterday sighs with a voice like old rain: "You’ll stumble where I did—I know it’s in vain. The cracks in the pavement still trip me, you’ll see,
By Just One of Those Thingsabout a year ago in Poets
Instructions for Borrowing Time
To Save a Fleeting Moment: Reach quick with hands of spider's silk, The kind that tremble, soft as milk. Don't clutch too tight—just cup the glow,
By Just One of Those Thingsabout a year ago in Poets
When the Universe Misplaces a Star
The sky didn’t shudder, no cosmic alarm— just a flicker, a sigh, then the absence of warmth. I search the old maps where your light used to be,
By Just One of Those Thingsabout a year ago in Poets