art

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

Sigil Synergy - Wellbeing
Wellbeing is soft and fluffy and has the scent of sage or lavender or jasmine. It elevates thoughts and supports immunities and gifts the moment with peace.
By Alice Hampton Dickerson4 years ago in Poets
Legacy or Library
Two trips in two weeks Different groups different perspectives Both taken to Government Central for a Freedom Trial meander
By Chris Siener4 years ago in Poets
The taste of youth
When the curtain of youth is drawn, how should we look at those years when we unload. What kind of years was that? When he or she is angular, when he or she is cynical, when he or she insists on his or her own way.
By Elma Akter4 years ago in Poets
Selection and direction
Life needs to make choices in many times. In fact, when you choose, it determines your direction. However, for life, is choice important or direction important? Most people will definitely choose the direction, and I am no exception.
By Kusum Akter4 years ago in Poets
". . .Then The Locust Said. . ."
They want to know the smell of you Smudged underneath the window frame You've grown sick on all you had to lose It's no use, you feel so damn insane.
By Jerald Dean4 years ago in Poets
Home is not home
Home is not home. Home is a warm lamp when you are wandering and wandering. Hometown is the root of a surname. I have always liked Wang Guowei's triple realm of "going up high-rise buildings alone and looking at the ends of the earth" and "I don't regret when I broaden my clothes and disappear for Iraq" "Suddenly looking back, the man was in the dim light.". It is not only the three realms of art, but also the three realms of life. It may also be suitable for the early, middle and advanced stages of wandering people in their life. We can see the bitterness of wanderers from "going up high-rise buildings alone and looking at the ends of the world". We can see from "gradually widening the belt of clothes and never regret, and people will be haggard for Iraq." Seeing the belief of wanderers, we get our destination from "suddenly looking back, the man is in the dim light".
By Porsi Akter4 years ago in Poets
You are a passer-by in my life
You are a passer-by in my life, in the man's 40th year; You are a ray of sunshine in my life, and you are also in a man's 40th year. The year of no doubt is a mature beginning for men, because after ten years of standing up, there has been a great improvement in both their speech and their career.
By Ruma Begum4 years ago in Poets
On the beauty of tragedy
Perfection seems to be a kind of contour beauty, while tragic beauty is a kind of structural beauty, cell beauty and artistic conception beauty. I prefer tragedy to comedy. This is probably because comedy is full of perfection that people have been unable to surpass, while tragedy is more in line with mortal survival philosophy. Although it is heavy, it can open people's hearts. Perfection is a kind of vision of people, or something people pursue all their life. Because it is too aesthetic, it can only become one of people's ultimate goals or wishes. Tragedy, because it often tears up the false appearance for people to see. It is memorable because it has a bit of incomplete beauty. Perhaps as human beings, we are not willing to appreciate a kind of sadness in the face of the suffering we have borne, but are willing to find the perfection of a happy mood in fairy tales.
By Jesika Moni4 years ago in Poets
Leaving is also returning
Where the ends of the earth is home, leaving is also returning. Leaving is the way to go, and returning is the way to return. But the leaving heart is still ahead, but the leaving heart is still looking forward to the way back. Returning home with a full load is the pursuit of travelers. Whether it is spiritual or material. Because everyone has different purposes, they go to different places, feel different, and have different ways to return.
By Forida Parveen4 years ago in Poets
False words, real life
When my old friend called, it was eight or nine o'clock last night. I didn't find it difficult to ask me for a toast to someone's 80th birthday. The words on the banquet were clear.
By Anika Akter4 years ago in Poets
Agreed forever
Originally, we can love like this. Sometimes people don't know until they lose. Some people, some things, think that they are just a cloud in their life and that they can forget about the Jianghu from now on, but on the occasion of parting, they find that the past has long been rooted in the bottom of their heart and can't be removed or erased. The person who is attached to you can't give you a promise, so you finally understand that happiness is a thing that can't be met and asked for. But why do you still have to fly moths to the fire and stick to it all your life? Perhaps as Li Mochou often whispers: ask what love is in the world, and teach people to live and die.
By MARI JACKSON4 years ago in Poets
Miss, look up to the beauty
A male friend told me one day that he finally found out after his divorce that the toilet had to be washed often; It turns out that taking care of a pair of children takes so much effort and loses freedom! I asked him, "how is your ex-wife now?"
By JAMES PARK4 years ago in Poets