art

Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.

The Philosopher's Process
Breath unto this world Ambushed, caught, released again Err the divine write. . Ash swept before death Tinder inspire infernos
By Tinka Boudit She/Her3 years ago in Poets
Tweet Mary Janes' flowers'
Tweet Mary Janes' flowers'. Mary Jane's so sweet. Oh oh Mary Jane Earth wind fire water! Don't destroy my bud oh no!
By Angelina F. Thomas3 years ago in Poets
You Can Breathe While Driving
You can have the purple sky, the horizon of lilac, drink it like water through the open window, down the freeway. You can have peace and quiet tonight, watch the world shift in colour, spin aimlessly into a world of dark blue, in your room, on your bed.
By Jamie Ramsay3 years ago in Poets
Outside noise
It’s a plague, this worry; it’s her room, it’s her skin, it’s uninvited, this projection is unkind. It’s messy, it’s too many clothes and not enough closet space. It’s her left, upper thigh, the space she leaves for proof of her error.
By Jamie Ramsay3 years ago in Poets
Breathe and Hold your Thumb
She said, breathe and hold your thumb, something we had decided the night before. Whatever I was feeling didn’t belong here today, I had a job to do.
By Jamie Ramsay3 years ago in Poets
Mayonaka | | 真夜中
Fallen I’ve fallen don’t help me up now. I’ll lie alone here The hardened ground relieves me, how? I’ll lie alone here.
By Kuro Seijaku 3 years ago in Poets
Azure
Yonaka’s Dance: Akai Walk along your road alone. Only you discern the path home. To whom we call to take us home Do they alone hold to a tome?
By Kuro Seijaku 3 years ago in Poets
Burn, Move, Hold, End
I'm a tree, you fire Look at what you created Proudly point to ash I float, I can fly Ashes dancing in the sky
By Raine Fielder3 years ago in Poets
Southern glory be
Earth is a beauty. Beyond earth is beautiful Earth water air fire is blaze
By Angelina F. Thomas3 years ago in Poets
“Thunderstorm”
Winter thunderstorm, wakes me from my summer dreams — unseasonably.
By Amberlynn Steward3 years ago in Poets
Deep Delta Spirit 1
hello, I have never considered myself a writer, but sometimes I wonder if it's due to a fear of not living up to the title. It feels like the same fear I had to identify as queer. I was afraid that I would harm the queer community with the self hatred that I had internalized via months of conversion therapy.
By Lee 🪞🌻3 years ago in Poets
EXPECTATIONS
Forever thirsty Can it quench all I desire I’ll try the water _________________ I gasp endlessly Seeking life’s satisfaction
By George Zelinski3 years ago in Poets