Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
It is the wakefulness of the night, Also the deep recess of slumber. It jives in drunken revelry, Reclines in a mood utterly somber.
By Ishan3 years ago in Poets
A tinge of grey mars the heaven’s azure, Ushers in soon a merry pitter-patter. A moment apt for hot coffee or tea, I am inclined to prefer the latter.
I prefer to give life to my dreams And expel them from my fingertips Watching as they come to life on the page. ~ The reader’s imagination becomes their very stage.
By Danielle Elizabeth Andrews3 years ago in Poets
“Petals” I love the color pink, it reminds me of petals dancing on the spring breeze. Soft and gentle like a warm melody. While the sun shines high, a perfect symphony.
By Amberlynn Steward3 years ago in Poets
At the end of the play, applause. We clapped, they bowed Captured by the silence, we giggled until we got out. Facing the walls, touching
By Cifer Mushu3 years ago in Poets
i hate to know [you] and i not just can and i DO but DO you hate it TOO with nervous intuition, why? they like me for a good time:
By ⸘jason alan‽3 years ago in Poets
analyzed my layers Looked into the subtle portions that make it whole Found the human buried under cynical looms A prepared lense sculpts the foundation of every grimise thought and howl
By Deliyah3 years ago in Poets
Introduction When I read poems, while I love words, rhythm and flow, I also sometimes enjoy the form of the poem which sometimes reminds me of an icicle, a knife or flowing water, without actually looking at the words in the poem.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 years ago in Poets
Love I was waiting for you till you do this call Love I believed and lived in You for far too long Love I stayed away as I knew you are not carrying for me at all
By Lightness3 years ago in Poets
The Moon always Glows like you! Despite the imperfections, She glows always... By looking at her, gain the strength to embrace your Authentic self...
By Priya3 years ago in Poets
The eternal flame, a glowing light, A beacon in the darkest night, It burns with a constant, steady heat, A symbol of hope and might.
By Shamz 4203 years ago in Poets
The shadow self, a hidden part, A side of us we often hide, It lurks within the darkest corners, A presence we try to deride.
