Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
In the house of shadows where the air hung thick, With the scent of decay, of dreams turned to ash, I dwelled in the corners where light dared not tread,
By The Kind Quill2 years ago in Poets
Silence It’s a repeating sense of violence Learning to Rise above the worries of life Entering a sense of pride Noting that everything has a place, a chance, a moment in time
By Alisha Wilkins ✒️🦋🖋️2 years ago in Poets
Shivers cascade over my body, engulfing me from head to toe. I imagine that your kiss, your embrace will be everything that I need.
Sitting here In silent isolation. Waiting. Longing for your return Expecting a call from you everyday Never more shall I hear your beautiful voice
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
Shush baby sleep. It's a full moon tonight. Let the magic into your dreams. Easy in your settled bed. Night gleams upon you.
By Denise Larkin2 years ago in Poets
Symphonies Sing Inside an intrepid mind Limericks and lyrics smothered by laundry and lunches Endless teetering tasks fill pages instead of poems
By Matthew J. Fromm2 years ago in Poets
Morning’s light spills across our shared dream, Glimmers of warmth in every beam, Your smile chases shadows away, Eyes glisten, hearts embrace,
By Printique Studios2 years ago in Poets
A gentle breeze sways, Petals dance in morning light, Fragile yet so strong, In nature’s tender embrace, Blooming life finds its own way.
The river calls with a timeless voice, Echoes of laughter, of childhood joys. On its banks, I stand, eyes misted with dreams,
I can’t bleed for you, my body Scares me I’m bleeding from the neck to the sole of my foot I can’t breathe for you, I’m not going back to the Joshua trees
By Melissa Ingoldsby2 years ago in Poets
In the mirror’s gaze, she stands so still, A world of doubts, against her will. The whispers of a world unkind, Plant seeds of fear in a troubled mind.
By Gokul Nath2 years ago in Poets
The precipice of poetry that seeks redemption Callous whispers that uproar the fear in my mind, Bounty tales of my existence may cease to be left behind.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
