art

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

The Symphony of Purple
A symphony of colors, in purples manifold. Beyond the surface shades, where deeper meanings hide, Let's explore the colors of purple, where emotions coincide.
By Kailee phillips3 years ago in Poets
Small attitudes generate big results
A simple good morning can change someone's day. Calling them by name makes all the difference. A hug saves lives. A small act of generosity can turn thorns into flowers.
By familia carvalho3 years ago in Poets
Erubescence. Top Story - October 2023.
Rayna was obsessed with the colour Red Tristan badly wanted to lock her in wed He took a knife to his heart She stopped to admire the art He asked "Would you love me if I was dead?"
By Dharrsheena Raja Segarran3 years ago in Poets
Corduroy Joy
Corduroy Joy didn’t know she was a toy She thought she was like every other girl or boy She laughed and played all day And at night she laid in her bed
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
Not All Death is Physical
Not all death is physical Sometimes “living” is nothing more than a ritual A thing we do to get through the day Dragging ourselves from one event to another
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
Glasses Raise
Glasses raise, joy blooms, Laughter dances, hearts entwine, Life's sweet tune resumes.
By Printique Studios3 years ago in Poets
NO HOLDING BACK 2
Thru them moments made me strong Know I’m right I can’t be wrong Didn’t even need the gym…. Can’t be asked man that’s so long
By Haychie_Artist3 years ago in Poets
Anaconda In Antartica
A cryptic dance in polar gloom Anaconda slumbers in the frozen tomb. In the land of ice and silent song Anaconda slithers in frozen grace
By Karun 3 years ago in Poets
Failures
The waning moon’s rise. I lay empty and broken. Another failure. /// The waning moon’s new sun rises. I lay empty and broken,
By Matthew J. Fromm3 years ago in Poets
Haunted Eyes. Content Warning.
In the dark grave shadows called home A tortured man carries his burden A heart so heavy, a mind astray, As he tends to his mother, night and day.
By Rick Henry Christopher 3 years ago in Poets
emersion
As the whole of everything operates outside of my walls, I sit fast reflecting. Ive shed so many shells in this parade, an old crab, im kinda like a cicada. It is most often in the disconnect and isolation that I am able to look into who I think I am, and my place in what all this is around me. Of course, life is so functionally profound, and perplexing that any sense of rationality is objectively distorted. Only silence can summate all of this, of which we are encapsulate. Life is like every breath in that we expand and evaporate.
By Steve Donaldson3 years ago in Poets
Tree Of Life
Introduction My friend Cherri created this beautiful "Tree of Life" macrame and introduced it with these wonderful words "After the death of a loved one, the tree of life is a reminder that this connection will always remain which we hope will bring peace."
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 years ago in Poets