art

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

Midnight Poetry
Mia vita, amore mio, mio dulce peccato... What a pleasure it is to love you in secret, with clandestine glances and kisses that don't exist, mio dulce peccato...
By Mafe Quimbayo2 years ago in Poets
Midnight Poetry . Content Warning.
"Open my rose like the wings of a butterfly, fill my petals with your dew, leave them juicy and moist, like my cherries, put them in your mouth and bite them to savor their flavor."
By Mafe Quimbayo2 years ago in Poets
Midnight Poetry. Content Warning.
"Love, how beautiful it is when you speak of art as if it were the most glorious thing in the world. How wonderful it is when you intoxicate me with your thoughts and ideas. My love, fill me with your intelligent words, make me crave more, take me to the climax of knowledge."
By Mafe Quimbayo2 years ago in Poets
Midnight Poetry . Content Warning.
"Put me in your mouth and eat me like a cake, fill my mouth with cream and smear my strawberry lipstick. Tell me, what do I taste like? Cherry, peach, or strawberry?... Place me in your hands and knead my body like cookie dough, arch my back as I scream like a soprano."
By Mafe Quimbayo2 years ago in Poets
Midnight Poetry
"The nights when I miss you, I think about the nocturnal lessons of life and thought. You gave me a taste of your mind, and it feels so good to be a slave to your voice when you speak of the world. Blood rushes to my cheeks when you stare into my eyes, into my soul..."
By Mafe Quimbayo2 years ago in Poets
MORE…
They say Oliver twist asked for more because he was greedy, But perhaps it wasn’t greed. Perhaps it was a knowing, a hunger not for food but for justice, for dignity,
By Marvelous Michael2 years ago in Poets
The Ides Of March
Beware Beware The Ides of March For though they come They have not gone Despite honeyed tongue And cloth of gold Thou art though mortal
By Matthew J. Fromm2 years ago in Poets
The Heart That Burned Itself Alive
It loved too deep, it beat too fast, A flame that danced against the tide. But passion's fire was never meant to last, And so it burned, and so it died.
By Karun 2 years ago in Poets
Broken Bonds, But Bonds Still
melted butter on my lips a lifetime on those hips light, gentle tongue slips just as my heart does flips - passion fascination fashion
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
Being Present
Living in the present - now's the time, no past regrets, no hills to climb. No weight of karma, no yesterday's chains, just life unfolding, as love remains.
By Denise Larkin2 years ago in Poets
3/13/2025
Leprechauns shaking shillelaghs As the leper cons say pay me Butterflies in disguise as they spin their lies Spiders trickling down
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
A Map of My Scars
Every scar I carry has a story. Some are small like the faded line on my knee from a childhood fall, or the burn on my wrist from a careless moment in the kitchen.
By Astone Zulu2 years ago in Poets