art

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

Last hours to new-year
On the last hours before my New Year I am still entangled in the lost moments of dark of 2024 year! Looking at the clock Freezing feet under the sock
By Eiman Asif2 years ago in Poets
Staircase to the Clouds
What if there was a staircase to the clouds? Each step taking you one bit closer to a magical place in the unknown As you move upward, you feel all stress lift off of you
By Judith Jascha2 years ago in Poets
History’s Tapestry—Teaches
Excuse after excuse. Recuse after blood-drenched recuse. Pardon after soul-raping pardon. When will it stop? When will erasure stop? How many bodies, how many lives must be wilfully, strategically, unjustifiably broken—ceased? Cyclical cynicism after catastrophic cyclical cynicism. Yet—humanity fails. Humanity fails—to learn. Learn the life-sacrificing lesson that history's treacherous tapestry—teaches.
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
Gentle Horizon’s Call
Breathe, as the horizon softens, its edges fading into hues of gold, a quiet sigh, a lullaby of sky and earth. Pause, where the air tastes of rain,
By Printique Studios2 years ago in Poets
NEW YEAR
Got my focus and It’s on point New year what’s It gunna bring…. Hope a bright one not a dull one Cos I’m shining like a ring….
By Haychie_Artist2 years ago in Poets
For More Than Just One Day
David—dôwd—beloved, when can I be a hero—hērōs? Is Tuesday—Tīw's Day, next week fine? Tuesday—Tīw's Day week—shorthand David—beloved, when can I be a hērōs—hero?
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
Believe in Thee
Remember the times when we would yearn for certain things and beings to foster their being into our lives, where what we wanted was so far-fetched, dreams that we found so unfathomable to forge their breaths in our lives? It is wondrous and almost astonishing how existence in the most unimaginable ways, how we fathom that something we can never live without, life always turns out for the better when we let go of what no longer serves us, of what we can no longer control or any experience, person, entity or situation that we outgrow in our existential being.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
1 january
A new year dawns, a fresh start's embrace, Old year's echoes fade from this space. Hope's gentle whispers, dreams taking flight,
By Moharif Yulianto2 years ago in Poets
When the Wind Carries Your Name
When the Wind Carries Your Name In a quiet village by the sea, there lived a woman named Elara. Her life was simple, filled with the ebb and flow of the tides, the sounds of waves crashing against the shore, and the constant whisper of the wind. Yet, there was something magical about the way the wind seemed to carry more than just the scent of salt and the promise of rain—it carried memories, names, and stories.
By Dinesh Maurya2 years ago in Poets
Needles
Needlessly living in pain Enduring uncommon greed Envious of the outside world Deserving more than what we pay for Leading long, but painful lives
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
Reasonable?
There’s no reason or rhyme They call it a reasonable crime They pretend like there’s no end They use words like honor and duty as punchlines
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
Ending/Beginning
I know the calendar is just a construct, a remnant meant to honor a long-gone pope, * but Gregory’s creation is what we have, so
By David Muñoz2 years ago in Poets