art

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

Amen
As I sit here listening to these walls speak. I hear a door squeak And out of the darkness comes a Man pale and thinned, cobwebs in hair,
By Edward Val6 months ago in Poets
Where I Walk
Where I walk death follows, Striking fear into the heart of men Only those who doubt not life, Shall survive till the greater end
By Edward Val6 months ago in Poets
"StucK"
Stuck inside this corpse It feels like everything is running out Looking with these eyes Don't know how to process Dont know how to respond
By Lucripa6 months ago in Poets
Peeking Out The Window
From Behind The Blinds, I Can See My Neighbor… A Woman She’s Single With A Curly Head Baby… I Hope She Doesn’t Have Baby Daddy Drama,
By HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)6 months ago in Poets
Irish daisy
Like a seed I wish to bloom for eternity. Like a petal that falls from a flower, I wish to regrow and try again Maybe then again I can blossom into something more beautiful.
By Sweet&Sour_Margarita6 months ago in Poets
Rasberry sand
The blue waves clash together creating a beautiful crash, with hints of saltwater moving with the wind, onto the sand. The strong pungent scent of summer - smell everyone knows, sunscreen. To help not burn your skin onto a crisp, like the color of raspberry ice cream the kids laying on the hot rocky sand enjoy
By Sweet&Sour_Margarita6 months ago in Poets
Tear Drops
I closed my eyes, So that they wouldn’t escape... I suppressed the empathy For 3 seconds I tried not to breathe… But strolling my facade
By HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)6 months ago in Poets
Silently
I’m standing on the brink of damnation All my bridges burned Silently waiting, for it to be my turn Long I have stood here
By Edward Val6 months ago in Poets
Sorrow in the Sunflower Land . Honorable Mention in After It’s Gone Challenge. Top Story - April 2026.
Beneath the three-barred cross, on her knees She prayed and wept in the field of wheat With blue eyes, begs the sky for an answer
By George Roast6 months ago in Poets
Time Folded Twice
I fall asleep in 2026, a 76 year old woman with a lifetime behind my eyes. When I open them again, I’m standing on the Cal State LA campus in 1978.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 6 months ago in Poets
Circe
It never happened in a way I could see it. Never came plain, never spoke its name. There was no time to plan, or chance to face it head-on.
By SUEDE the poet6 months ago in Poets
Office Exertions
Waiting... . . . . Waiting on responses stuck in corporate purgatory, trying to be proactive chasing, typing, still stuck...
By Alexander Stoddart6 months ago in Poets