art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
"CREATING LIGHT". Content Warning.
CREATING LIGHT THE DARKNESS OVERWHELMS SOCIETY This is a poem I wrote today about a brief encounter with an old flame of yesteryear. It was a very brief encounter, but I left with PTSD in the subconscious that I had to express by writing about the brief encounter. There are covert narcissists and malignant narcissists. I get irritated and move forward to not give them control now or in the future. I forgive, but I do not forget. I am an empath.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 3 years ago in Poets
Harmonic Fusion
In the realm of music's vast expanse,A new frontier awaits our dance.Not mere notes upon the page,But a symphony of a different age.Behold the wondrous fusion rise,Where ancient melodies harmonize.The rhythms of the past entwine,With modern beats in perfect rhyme.A tapestry of sound so rare,A masterpiece beyond compare.Where strings and synths unite as one,In a harmonic lexicon.No boundaries in this sonic land,Where genres blend at artists' hand.A kaleidoscope of melody,A new frontier for harmony.So let us wander, free and bold,In this world of music untold.Where tradition meets innovation,In harmonic fusion, our new elation.
By Raj’s Vocal3 years ago in Poets
An Ode to Misery
An ode to our dear friend, misery: Life is a monotonous drudgery, a sinuous, sentient maze that reveals sinister revelations, conniving contradictions to convince you life is worth living. It continuously creates credible, wondrous creatures, then tells you something sensuous and sensational is around the corner, you just need to go on a little farther, live a little longer, have another glass of wine. But life is deceptive, because something better rarely ever is. Then life repeats itself, repeats its beautiful lies, and we continue to believe. We are all just pendulous puppets of life’s power trip, as it controls our plight and misery with a smile, pulling our strings every chance it gets. Your equanimity wont matter, life’s treacherous lessons will leave you tremulous, alone and melancholy. Life will treat you churlishly, because life is miserable. Life will drag you into its trenches and dig its heinous claws into you, never allowing you to escape, not until deaths final surrender.
By Alex H Mittelman 3 years ago in Poets
