Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Teaching bugs to swim A four-year-old won't notice When legs stop kicking ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By Jason Huls3 years ago in Poets
Rushing river's flow Endless, never-ceasing force Nature's ebb and flow Ocean's salty waves Crashing against the shoreline
By Baris Ovali3 years ago in Poets
Mossy rocks stand tall Ancient mountains, wise and grand Nature's timeless hall Golden fields of wheat sway Beneath the sun's warm embrace
Gentle breeze so soft Whispers secrets in our ears Nature's hidden aloft Wispy clouds above Drifting, aimlessly they move
Water: named for Callista means most beautiful: Mother made me this thirsty Air: smoking in winter is bad for you, but the air
By Cali Loria3 years ago in Poets
Aureole reflects, A fleeting reminiscence, Deluge inducted. // Candlelight betrays, Illuminated for life, Waxen figurine.
By Kirk Cadiz3 years ago in Poets
I'm your worst nightmare Your whole world is now poisoned I'm Fukushima
By George Zelinski3 years ago in Poets
Snow on a campfire Drowning all my warmth away You left me breathless
Walk on the river. Coldest winter on earth—curse! White breath; swallow burns.
By Ángel Sierra3 years ago in Poets
They called him a Four, Her elements he adored, Heart in the blender.
Act II Silk, satin, velvet. Nightfall draws a cashmere moon. Hold a flame to it. ——— Then I Behind velvet drapes
Cold rain stings my face Firework display in puddles Wind sways the stoplights
By Amy Carlsen3 years ago in Poets
