art

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

Christmas Serenity
Softly falls the snow outside, As festive tunes begin to reside, Within our hearts, a warm delight, Christmas magic, shining bright.
By Sara C2 years ago in Poets
Play Your Love Songs for Me
Play your love songs for me, don’t ever leave me, you are my love and will be so - till the end of time. Never leave me lonely,
By Rasma Raisters2 years ago in Poets
Reliving Memories
She almost didn’t stop, she hadn’t been this way in so long, but there she was in front, of the bar where she and her friends used to meet.
By Rasma Raisters2 years ago in Poets
You're the bridge that won't burn
You’re the bridge that won’t burn You’re the bridge that won’t burn, You’re the lesson my heart won’t learn, The page I can’t turn.
By Yvonne Knight2 years ago in Poets
Whispers of Winter's Arrival
Softly descends the morning's hush, Frost's gentle kiss upon the land's rush, Crystal whispers weave an ethereal spell, As winter's beauty starts to unfold and tell.
By Sara C2 years ago in Poets
On the beach
On the beach a butterfly And the butterfly has two eyes and eyelashes And the house has two windows and a door And in the sky are clouds
By Kisama Riyo 2 years ago in Poets
I wonder who my people are?
Oh, how strange are the people who wanted to abandon me And fabricated accusations against me and humiliated my imprisonment?
By Kisama Riyo 2 years ago in Poets
We have become confused.
In the wings of darkness they call the violin Lost birds scattered with time Do I wonder if I will ever have peace from us
By Kisama Riyo 2 years ago in Poets
Borders of the Kingdom of Boredom
On the borders of the kingdom of boredom I found a soul complaining about the bitterness of the past And the days say to me: What's the news?
By Kisama Riyo 2 years ago in Poets
The Goose Company
In the collection, the goose is not just an animal but a multifaceted symbol deeply rooted in Russian Orthodox tradition, representing a bridge to transcendence. Through this imagery, Stepanova crafts a poetic language that evokes the connection between the sacred and daily life, urging reflection on humanity’s detachment from nature and spiritual roots.
By Maddalena Celano2 years ago in Poets
PURE SOUL
In the mirror I see a reflection clear, A soul that's genuine, devoid of fear, Eyes that sparkle with dreams untold, A heart that's pure, a spirit bold.
By DANIEL AKAM OKO2 years ago in Poets
Three Months to Live—II
The petrichor gusts filled the yard with dust It was my 'second month', It was for sure; August I slept on the first night and witnessed a strange cure
By Maryam Batool2 years ago in Poets