Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Blackalicious has inspired me I answer anonymous afflictions with affection bleeding the beasts built on bedrocks of basic badness
By Nicholas Goodman7 years ago in Poets
She was wild like the flowers Poking out from the sidewalk, Brave enough to stand apart And grow where she felt rooted However-
By Emma Lynn7 years ago in Poets
You move like the words I wish I could write Better than the best of dreams I don't have a religion but if I did it would be your eyes
By Cassie Andrade7 years ago in Poets
Lonely on a bus to the shore Feelings are expensive The day’s not done but I minus well be… I breathe into this deep space inside my chest
By Mish Graham7 years ago in Poets
Tell me, Do I cross your mind at night When you lay beneath the stars I think we'd be a force untamed And one that takes us far
By Scott Jackson7 years ago in Poets
Blood red sun lights up the sky, The birds are free to sing and fly, The towering trees create a skyline, There's no recollection of wasted time,
By Hailly Leona7 years ago in Poets
Needles fall into my blue carpet soft but sharp red dots form on my bare feet blue paint cry's dye dripping off my fingers
By Anonymous walrus7 years ago in Poets
A stroke of happiness, A smear of new beginning. Fading away the old, Bringing out the new. A block between reality; The most unlikely murderer.
By Christine Bickle-lila7 years ago in Poets
She's walking down the street. Looking like an ordinary, small piece of an enormous grey mass. Soft wind touching her dark, satin hair as her forest green eyes childishly follow slowly moving clouds in the sky. She has so much to say... Yet stays quiet. She's silent, for she's afraid to be left misunderstood.
By El G7 years ago in Poets
As easy as it seems... to flow like water in a stream, so loosely following the way everyone thinks is your dream. Allowing oneself to be wet to the touch and never allowing anyone to drain your mind and take your ambitions
By Jonqueshia Hunter7 years ago in Poets
My mind is my best friend. In a world full of newspaper, my mind is a coloring book, pages of images of my own that are waiting to be filled in.
By Jynelle Williams7 years ago in Poets
Free these veins From chains Formed by ticking hands And growing sums- Beat, beat, beat The heart With songs of smiles
By Katrina Thornley7 years ago in Poets