Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Western in my soul, Canada on my moustache, Water blue because it's drunk. by Casper Tales That was my Blue Haiku, brought to you by the letter J.
By Casper Tales3 years ago in Poets
My lips start to blue I came, I saw, I conquered. But, Brutus, et tu?
By Sudi Kay3 years ago in Poets
I squint my eyes so The bright blue hue does not sting. It's painful outside.
My little one, Awaiting your arrival has found me impatient, Eager to show you the world. To snuggle you close, And bond with you in ways I had never felt.
By Kayla Trusick3 years ago in Poets
What stories they hold, Snapshots of ripped indigo Kept past their prime.
By Alison McKinney3 years ago in Poets
Your topaz gaze blinds, Secrets of the universe Spilled with every blink
By Grace Howl3 years ago in Poets
"The gods, they were worshipped and revered, A source of power and strength to the ancients. Their temples and shrines, a testament to their glory,
By G Fraust3 years ago in Poets
he soaring spires of Gothic cathedrals. "The paintings of the masters, A window into the soul of the artist. Their brushstrokes and colors a symphony of emotion,
"The legacy of the ancients, It lives on in the present day. Their wisdom and knowledge still guide us, As we navigate the complexities of modern life.
Great auk dives beneath Keen eyes spy elusive prey Deep blue sea engulfs
By Jon H. Davis3 years ago in Poets
Cold, numbing winter. Healing, but lost without you. My mood this season.
By Amber Pierce3 years ago in Poets
An ocean of ink A writers' life - gaze adrift When pen marks paper.
By Grace Gerrish3 years ago in Poets
