art

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

Honig und Gift
In realms where sweet nectar flows, A venomous sting also grows. Like honey, words can soothe the soul, But hidden beneath, a darker role.
By Moharif Yulianto2 years ago in Poets
Rhythms
Rhythms I've been thinking a lot about Rhythms The patterns that run through songs, lives, and stories beat after beat
By Gabriel Huizenga2 years ago in Poets
Wanting the best for the world
Once upon a time, I wanted the best for the world The world being my family. Try as I might, try as I could, Nothing seemed to get better, even though it could.
By Just Daniel2 years ago in Poets
"RAINBOWS & BUTTERFLIES". Content Warning.
I once was a girl In this world Who used to twirl Around in circles of butterflies And rainbows and twirls of free as it was to be
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 years ago in Poets
hanging on
I have felt you sl ip pi ng away for quite some time unlike apples you have fallen far from my tree your autumn leaves
By D2 years ago in Poets
I miss falling in love
I miss falling in love the pit of my stomach tangled like my hands in your hair and with just a glance you turned my gut
By D2 years ago in Poets
to the moon and back
I tried to grab the moon tonight it looked within reach taunting me with its bright assurances, but I thought if I flipped my hands upside down
By D2 years ago in Poets
Sunshine and limerence
Beaming yellow, your radiance is hard to ignore, indifferent to my opinion of you, you bless the world as I sometimes ignore just how special you are,
By D2 years ago in Poets
What love is like miles apart
4 A.M. again?? For f*ck’s sake, when am I going to realize I'm never going to sleep unless it's next to her? Idiot. I'll wake up (unfortunately) at 7 or 8 or whenever.... and do my stupid morning ritual of reaching for her and she won't be there.
By D2 years ago in Poets
No Public Restrooms
Pressure inside grows Public shits not permitted Best run the fuck home!
By The Shattered Poet2 years ago in Poets
Beware the Rabbits
Days spent chasing rabbits ‘round the tree Effective method for shoestrings Anti-productivity For me, with empty hands Relatively slow
By The Shattered Poet2 years ago in Poets
Little Bird
Little Bird Little Bird so light and gentle, God's creation. What a painting it turned out to be, feathers of a chukaroo. Makes me think of trees standing tall, like him—gosh, bet he was 6ft 2; my head was just above his belly. I am so small. Like apples falling from a tree, look at him, look at me! So little bird, I hear your voice as you sing to me: wrong choice.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 years ago in Poets