Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
My lover has brown Eyes and blue ink in his skin. Was black once, he says.
By Jennifer A. G.3 years ago in Poets
The blue paint I sway Paint brushes covered in paint Making something great
By Hailey3 years ago in Poets
cyan swells, rolling echoes of a nocturne, ring budding moon, we rise
By Chipa Mulenga3 years ago in Poets
Blue is my soul song Frustrated is my mindset Money is all gone
By Tiffany Swan3 years ago in Poets
I looked in his bag It was a painting - the thief ! Van Gogh Starry Night
By Gal Mux3 years ago in Poets
Museum dying, We needed a rescue plan Thief to steal blue vase
He painted at night "A masterpiece?" they all asked Sunflowers were blue
As the contest closed I laid my pencil to rest proud of all I wrote.
By Brian Grady3 years ago in Poets
gravity. it pulls you. it directs you, and i hope you gravitate towards good; gravitate higher than you are right now.
By Hannah Leigh3 years ago in Poets
Cyan stars, my sun Through the celestial night and The darkness inside.
By Claudia Tofanelli3 years ago in Poets
A periwinkle — Though not at all a true blue, Will argue the point.
By Jayne Harnett-Hargrove3 years ago in Poets
Beauty wrapped in skin Made by the courtesy of NightCafe Studio https://creator.nightcafe.studio/ Submerged, Engulfed, let's sink in
By Thavien Yliaster3 years ago in Poets
