art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Loving-kindness
In the generous sprinkling of, The qualities that glory, At the highest in this world, Loving-kindness remains forever,
Esala GunathilakePublished 3 months ago in PoetsWinds of Change
The sun gave birth, as two became one A couple whose story had yet to begun Feelings shone bright, drawn in by its cover
LOVE
If I had been able to sleep without your dreams, my nights would’ve been better. If you could just get out of my head, the voices could stop. If you decide to just fade away, I could be whole again. But you don't, you decide to whisper in my ears every night how lonely I am. Now I can’t write poetry about you or anyone in particular. All I have left is my blood to sign a contract. Clearly, you see me as a miserable fellow since you don’t hold my hand anymore. Or don’t even hug me when you see me on the streets passing by your home. When I had you in my arms, time stopped for me, but for you, it passed rapidly. And you pushed me back a little, because you felt disgusted, I seem. If only you'd fallen a little more, there would be more pages written for you. But it’s still more than all the letters I wrote to grief about you. I don’t know who you’ll be when I meet a new person. But I would like it if you could be a little more gentle. Take the body of a person who’s strong enough to accept their flaws, or maybe discard them. Maybe how about someone who works in a library and sips coffee in the morning? Who plays moves so amazing and takes my side as a queen to my chessboard? Who also speaks classical and loves flowers like a gardener? Whose eyes are more majestic than your previous self? And understands me like Milena. Oh! Love, make sure you come meet me next time, as I don’t know your address anymore. ~Suraj Rajvanshi
Suraj RajvanshiPublished 3 months ago in PoetsEmotions
I am someone with numerous experiences, experiences that gut your soul out. No, this is not about some poetic love story that changed me, This is about myself and my own weird world, I was created with the sole purpose to destroy, Destroy what you ask? Destroy every emotion in people’s minds. Who were they? Some were close, some distant. Some cruel, some kind, some deserving, some not. Yet I butchered their emotions and made them my puppets. Manipulating their every action with the strings made of the thin layer of their skin. Why did I do it? Because I was bored. That made others life hell and my heaven. Clearly you think I am a psychopath, no I’m not I have my own emotions and I feel others too. I just don’t care enough. Yes, you can say I am not right in mind or I’m a murderer. But I didn’t kill anyone except their will to live. All the deaths that happened were their own choice. I had the string you know, I wanted them to not fall. I was holding them. Then why did they die? Who knows, people without emotions are empty shells. What I felt? Unpleasurable sadness, I guess. What is my name you ask? I go by different names, some call me grief, Some depression, some guilt, some despair. Some accepted me, others despised me. But nobody ever loved me. No, it was more like, everyone hated me. Constantly yearning out to the greater power that why did they have me on their pitiful shoulders. But these so-called human beings never knew they were the ones who created me. Maybe if they learn how to reverse the curse, they lay upon themselves, They could best me. But they never learn, do they? The constant agony, their screams, some might find it horrifying. But they are just echoes of their own miserable heart. When will the killing stop? I don’t know, ask my god.
Suraj RajvanshiPublished 3 months ago in Poets'what if'
withe the lights down low‽ easier to pretend we don't know what we can't see happening, but seeing isn't the only way to believe
⸘jason alan‽Published 3 months ago in Poets~February Love!~
~February Love!~ Happy Valentine's 7 Days in, Oh how marvelous, And delicious and perfect This month is, All the wonderful smiles
Jennifer CooleyPublished 3 months ago in PoetsI wishing for you
I know I'm wired but you still shocking me like an electricity, Had my heart on a higher frequency; Seeing you up closer you're tempting to touch,
about a heart
if i know anything about a heart if it knows love at all, it will break the unrequited lover sails a sinking ship a hop, jump, and a skip across oceans
⸘jason alan‽Published 3 months ago in PoetsTHE POET IN ME
People asked What inspired you? Who is the poet in you? Who is the inspiration behind your write-up? I answered! Wait until you see beyond the sea
Aifuwa EmmanuelPublished 3 months ago in PoetsTo Build is the Noblest Art of the Art
Title: The Noble Art of Building: Crafting the Foundations of Human Progress Introduction: The art of building, far more than the mere act of construction, is a profound and noble pursuit that encapsulates the essence of human ingenuity, creativity, and progress. From the majestic structures of ancient civilizations to the avant-garde designs of contemporary architects, the art of building has played a pivotal role in shaping our world. In this exploration, we delve into the deep significance of building, tracing its evolution through history and its contemporary manifestations, to understand how it remains the noblest art, a testament to our collective aspirations.
Shazee TahirPublished 3 months ago in PoetsMeet the terrifying new tactical machine gun system Ukraine is testing
Will it be a powerful new tool for the country's infantry? The Russian invasion of Ukraine revealed how large-scale modern fighting changed. New combat realities for soldiers on the frontlines have required clever solutions to old complex problems, which is why Ukraine developed a new type of machine gun tactical system
Soft Dawn
Soft dawn breathes a sigh, Leaves waltz in a hushed ballet, Hope weaves its sunrise tale.
Printique StudiosPublished 3 months ago in Poets