Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
An abandoned House Whose loved Ones are gone And whose Lights are dimmed Is mourning The departure. house Here, There is no time
By Wail Fekhr Elislam Saadna2 years ago in Poets
Today, some people think one million dollars isn't that much. I think they are crazy, but they think I am, so I guess that's fair.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman2 years ago in Poets
I am learning to glow from the inside Not borrowed light Not reflected radiance But pure, original luminescence Transformation happens
By Edina Jackson-Yussif --personal growth 2 years ago in Poets
My growth is not linear But topographical A landscape continuously redesigning itself Boundaries dissolve like morning mist
Soft winds hum through ancient trees, whispering stories in trembling leaves. Sunlight dances on rippling streams, painting gold across childhood dreams.
By Printique Studios2 years ago in Poets
I'm really proud of you. Most people don't know your story, your struggle, your hustle, your prayers. . Most people don't know you're
By MT Poetry2 years ago in Poets
We all make a stain in life, Whether our mind or our shirt, Sometimes it is multicol0red, As in this paint collage, We do not know how to control it,
By Tambourine Man2 years ago in Poets
The warmth you give me even on a rainy day The sun rises and falls and you are always there The sour feeling you leave inside
By Thomas Terry2 years ago in Poets
Uncharted trails in front of me; only high hopes sustaining my will. I heard your call inside of my mind and everything else stopped to a grind.
By Alex Torres2 years ago in Poets
Welcome to the land of the grand, bland and annoyed Feel free to do a little shouting into the void Nobody gives a single shit what you may have to say
By Sam Spinelli2 years ago in Poets
I have two children—one boy and one girl—that I hug and kiss and tell I love them at every moment of separation, whether I’m leaving for work or to run errands or whether they are headed to school or to the playground. I am aware that they and I must be transported, typically and usually by car, but sometimes it could be a train or a plane if we are headed on vacation, maybe even a boat for a nice dinner. All of those modes of transportation can be deadly vehicular instruments, and January 29th gave me a general reminder of that.
By Samuel 2 years ago in Poets
Acorn's Fate A seed sleeps beneath the ancient loam, An acorn destined to rise and roam, To stretch its limbs toward heaven's skies,
By Katie L. Kashan2 years ago in Poets
