art

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

Musing
Very good and great job. Now I get to imagine you working out. I feel like, It does excite me to maybe one day show you, martial arts.
By Shane Harrington 3 years ago in Poets
Defining Getting Comfortable
Defining how someone gets comfortable is different some. How do I get comfortable? In different cuddles are important to us all.
By Emily Curry (Rising Phoenix)3 years ago in Poets
Venus on Earth
M y eyes are like stained glass crafted in New Mexico Pencil sketches dripping over watercolor lines Pupils ablaze with the sparkle of vertigo
By Tanner Peiffer3 years ago in Poets
In The Blink Of An Eye
Ever wish that you could talk with someone who’s already gone? Tell them about your day;what’s going right and what’s going wrong?…
By Shelby Davenport3 years ago in Poets
Bae and the Beau
Will you be my bae I can be your beau There is so much to say And everywhere to go + We can go and clown All around the town
By Caeizar3 years ago in Poets
Etch in your heart, like you etched the name on a wall for everyone to see
they write on your heart, you think. those lovely people (all stages, puppy-love, dreamy goo-goo eyes, painful tears and angry background looks love, happy pretend everything’s fine love, perfect story-book fantasy I’m going to go out with my friends, don’t wait up)
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
I Am Crazy For You
I am crazy for you! I am crazy for you Love is finding us You are someone that I am crazy for It is a rainy day
By Syeda Tamseel Fatima3 years ago in Poets
Purple zang lightning thunder lemon
I never used to do this Over-eat. I never used to let that thunder dream down upon me, I had pushed it out like a secret honey comb that was not a true part of the colony’s design
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
The Glade. Top Story - September 2022.
We met in a glade you and I As the moon stood high in the sky Woods eclipsing us in every way And nothing left but darkness surrounds
By Caeizar3 years ago in Poets
Pressurized Carbon
Since they found out Beethoven was black, Now they sober with facts It's like the truth is all over, perhaps... And we laugh!
By El Poet3 years ago in Poets
Eggs scrambled creamed I wish you were ok
I maka yer eggs They taste creamy before they are cooked, I add cream to da base. The eggshells crackle, I love the way it crunches in between my fingers.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
Bitter Sips
when the morning has begun before my mind can work or play i long for your touch upon my lips, bitter sweetness of old world and new.
By Lindsay Rae3 years ago in Poets