art

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

I FEAR
I fear my dreams will never meet my expectations Who am I without purpose? and what's purpose without a path to Embody. Does a soul know its destiny before the carrier is corrupted with malady
By Irvin 3 years ago in Poets
Super Tuesday Scramble
Super Tuesday, a urgent day in the American political race, was tossed into a free for all as insight about a far reaching blackout on Facebook and Instagram cleared the country over. A large number of clients, anxious to interface, offer, and remain informed, were met with a disappointing "association blunder" message.
By Creative Chronicles3 years ago in Poets
Chip on Your Shoulder. Top Story - March 2024.
How did the universe, In all it’s clever design, Manage to make me fit Nearly perfectly in your arms? Lying face-to-face,
By Test3 years ago in Poets
In the Blush of Secrets
In a realm where moonbeams softly glow, Where whispers of love gently flow, A tale unfolds, a treasure untold, Within the depths of secrets, pink and bold.
By wael mansour3 years ago in Poets
In Nature's
In nature's embrace, Trees murmur, secrets unfold, Silent power speaks.
By Printique Studios3 years ago in Poets
A Toxic Deception
You literally meant me no good; I don't know why that was so hard to see. Everyone told me to stay away from you, but all I did was disagree.
By Trishawn Blake3 years ago in Poets
Want time to pause
want time to pause pause for a minute I just want time to pause for a minute to take my heavy breadth want a movement with the sky for a minute
By Neetu Jadon3 years ago in Poets
kill
kiss me. spit life onto my parched tongue. call me. yours, my name out loud. choke me. your hands, my neck, digging fingernails.
By Sara 3 years ago in Poets
Uo to the top of bottom
Struggling too many stairs,each single one teaches you a different way of scaling,climb and erasing tracks, no paths left behind ,getting to the top holding your own basics, leaving nothing down there
By Sofiane Illyah 3 years ago in Poets
Fact vs illusion
Fact and illusion They are the same but ain't the same, they are different but they are the same " What started fake ain't get ever genuine"
By Sofiane Illyah 3 years ago in Poets
Conch
I am layered in layers of laminated laden love, limply lingering beneath the landlocked clouds above. Peeling them back has proven to be painlessly painful,
By Kale Sinclair3 years ago in Poets
Navigating the River of Me
“Beginning well is a momentary thing; finishing well is a lifelong thing.” Ravi Zacharias (1946–2020) I stand on the shoreline, before the 'River of Me.'
By Dr. Marie Grace3 years ago in Poets