Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Winter's dance begins, Voices merge in joyous song, Hearts weave a tapestry, Silent whispers, goodwill's breath, Unity's notes, a festive throng.
By Printique Studios3 years ago in Poets
The feathered boy said: “The day is done The war is gone” The feathered boy said “Amongst the dread Amongst bloody napes
By Octovo Libra 3 years ago in Poets
Tell me your stories, “Your magic is mine,” Words so sweet they brought a tear. I clearly remember you speaking this line.
By Stephanie J. Bradberry3 years ago in Poets
I find release in exertion. In the muscle's stretch and strain. I find release. I enjoy the pain. I find release in writing.
By Alexis Bre3 years ago in Poets
take a proper gander at the propaganda as it's shoved down your throat through your eyes drying up aqueous humor in your ears
By Paul Stewart3 years ago in Poets
The man who is ascetic He who sees with other eyes Denies of all aesthetics Though his flesh, his soul can fly * The man who is austere
By Matt B.3 years ago in Poets
I’m far more messed up Than I thought Forever bled Of any “normal” thought Against them all I have fought I don’t know what you want
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
Hemorrhaging hypocrisy Of one way conversations You’re judging me When all I see is beauty How are you supposed to see me
Amid vibrant hues, Hearts entwine in varied views, Stories interlace, Unity weaves in graceful arcs, Love's embrace, a tapestry.
Black is beautiful. Profound and youthful. Mighty and truthful. Dawn of a new hope. Source of all gold. Shining without approval.
By Tornvec™3 years ago in Poets
Bathed in argent glow, a celestial ballet unfolds, The full moon ascends, a radiant orb untold. Silvered mistress of the velvet night,
By Ashiii3 years ago in Poets
Growing up was a learning curve On my lane you know I’ll swerve No more stopping will be dropping All my rhymes I wrote you heard?
By Haychie_Artist3 years ago in Poets
