art

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

I Wrote a Poem Every Time I Fell in Love
There’s a notebook I keep hidden at the back of my closet. Its cover is worn and the pages are stained with coffee, old tears, and fingerprints from years of thumbing through the past.
By Muhammad Sabeelabout a year ago in Poets
Birthday
I've been thinking... for some time now, and it seems we've met... somewhere long before...although i'm not sure that we have...definitively.
By Michele Nampalliabout a year ago in Poets
Due.
The echo of your laughter now rings just half a beat too late, as every joke you made at my expense becomes your epitaph in wait.
By Yasmine Lagrasabout a year ago in Poets
Of Digressions and Fragments
the words I write the words I can’t say out — but can share with the world are the truth or they — at the very least —
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
The Smile That Breaks
Behind the curve of upturned lips, A thousand storms begin to slip. A hollow laugh, a practiced art, While silent battles break her heart.
By Shwet Prabha Baiswarabout a year ago in Poets
The Bite of Betrayal
Thank you for gossiping… That person is bad, that person is bad How good are you? Look back at yourself Don't like each other
By Rohitha Lankaabout a year ago in Poets
The Quiet Shape of Violence. Content Warning.
Violence does not always scream— sometimes, it hums behind the teeth, a lullaby in broken keys, the rattle of breath before a blow.
By E. hasanabout a year ago in Poets
Build them up
The screen glows, another story unfolds. A hesitant share in the quiet of the group. My fingers hover over the keyboard, not to critique, not to dissect for flaws,
By Edina Jackson-Yussif --personal growth about a year ago in Poets
Ripples
Silver drops descend, kissing glass with liquid hands, circles dream outward.
By Printique Studiosabout a year ago in Poets
I will stay alive
It is not my day It might be tomorrow Or the day after that. Today I am asleep in my bed And dreaming I am flying Dreaming I can swim.
By Mansiabout a year ago in Poets
Again, I Will
I will rise again, To be the pride of yours. To lift the rock that crashed you, To shine through the darkness in you. To hold you tight, like you used to do.
By IcedPanabout a year ago in Poets
Suddenly, an Overhanging House
Suddenly, an overhanging house After all. Finallys tries colorful Hues of joy wide... Stood back like test. Suddenly, throwings of shade, Everyone travels west... Every person Every person On a quest! ... a very bad hangover. Grapes? Thank you for reading! Which part of the poem resonates with you? Share your thoughts. Please leave a comment. Copyright 2025 K.A. Smith
By K.A. Smithabout a year ago in Poets