art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
That Coming Kill
Down the lonely road at night With no stars in the curtain black, The weary man stumbles along Fear breathing down his back.
Jacob JohnsonPublished 7 years ago in PoetsAs I Am
AS I AM TWO SOULS WANDERING THROUGH THIS LIFE CHANCE MEETING SMILES TURN TO LIGHT LOOK IN MY EYES CAN YOU SEE US DRENCHED IN THE THRILL OF IT ALL
David AvnerPublished 7 years ago in PoetsEmotional Sunset
A true artist, to me, is exposed to an abyss, A savage and unrelenting catharsis, And in this intensely dangerous and beautiful land,
Pete MaguirePublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe Townley Venus
The first time I saw Venus The Townley Venus at the British Museum I was overthrown Her stomach, gentle curvature Arms risen in strength and fullness
Annie Rew ShawPublished 7 years ago in PoetsCamera Shot
Being fifteen, I'm only ten years conscious ten years of deciding for myself, I've made mistakes, some that I wish to wipe off the surface of my mind with a tidal wave,just so that I can make sure to get in every crevice
Annabelle PidekPublished 7 years ago in PoetsFire
They came They crawled Open chests beat hard Like clouds they Could never be caught Tied the rope taught Fired the gun
Random Rhymes #1
Stop it, read it, clock it, Done deal with a rat's spiel, that's a new reel on your locket. Your locket, my lock-it. Done lost the key,
Klyde Khalil WalkerPublished 7 years ago in PoetsOur Vice
It's time we paid the price It's time we faced our vice Confront our evils Ensure our peoples It's time we play it nice
Semira BirkePublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe Play
Act One Everyone is speaking out loud while I daydream in solitude, thinking about my words carefully before I said them to you.
shiney poetryPublished 7 years ago in PoetsCandlelight
I watch you dance in my eyes, flickering but never extinguished. I see how you glow and I wait. I wonder. I hear the crackle and I feel at home. Candlelight, you know me. And I know you.
Emily ValdezPublished 7 years ago in Poets.secaf....faces.
There are faces in my head. Ones I don't remember yet. People quite often turn up dead. There are memories in my head. Ones I'd like to forget. People aren't what they seem, quite often turn out mean.
'I See Me'
Reflections bathed in the glory of night Untouched...unaltered purity in the rarest form Face singing the hymn of a life well lived
Ashlei NicholePublished 7 years ago in Poets