Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Like the blooming rose in spring, A woman's beauty is a radiant thing. Her softness like the petals, her grace like the stem,
By VIDHYASAGAR3 years ago in Poets
For his anxious mind. A clouded visor. A tarnished breastplate. For his broken heart. Upon his shoulders. Pauldrons of Jupiter.
By Marcus Kelly3 years ago in Poets
Earth births the living. Fire burns, and makes wind. Die by the river.
By {L.B.}3 years ago in Poets
Be cool, chill out, FREEZE! Can you crack this window PLEASE? A very brisk BREEZE. Sand stay on the ground. Why do you keep spinning 'round?
Igniting the fire Burning creation within Rise from the ashes A planted seed grows Roots buried within the ground
By Alessandra Felice3 years ago in Poets
Breeze, breeze, buzz a bum. Flaming lips, thick saliva, Beneath trees on sod.
By Ángel Sierra3 years ago in Poets
There comes a time where you have to look within and truly see the person you are. And for me I didn't recognise or realise the person I had become.
By Grace Blessing3 years ago in Poets
Cuddling up next to you, as our skin becomes immersed. With the sweet melody of our local view, The synchronised breathing through,
You see I'm everyday people, Unique, quirky and unusual, Blood pumping through our veins, Bone structured to operate the same,
It's officially summer time, Londoners out soaking in that sunshine, Weather like this has most of us smiling, Enjoying the simple things rather than surviving,
Why do we think we are above the abundant balance of nature? Even if mankind can make paper, It's taken from the source.
Not one is following Singing it's own harmony All is in balance.
By Jessica Burby3 years ago in Poets
