art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Deeper past, goodbye years
Time flies, life is short, rushing through a narrow tunnel, whitewashing, simply leaving, alternating faces, the only constant is memory. Deeper past events, farewell years, duckweed dispersal, lingering temperature of fallen flowers, yellowed first window, long-lost people, unforgettable things, the wind comes and goes, listening to the wind and counting the rain, only waiting for aftertaste.
By Aurelio Farthing5 years ago in Poets
Waiting for the heart
It was another cloudy and rainy day. I remember she told me that what she likes most is rainy days. On rainy days, you can take a book and lie on the sofa and read the book all day. On rainy days, you can just hang out in a daze. On rainy days, you can read with your loved one. A romantic Korean drama, you can cook with him on rainy days, and you can do many, many interesting things on rainy days. But then she said that she hated rainy days more and more, because rainy days made people sad and painful.
By Jess Ohanlon5 years ago in Poets
The answer to life
Every drop is touched, every drop is gratified, so why should the hot blood flow? In the dead of night, have you ever asked yourself this question? In the dead of night, have you ever beaten yourself so painfully? Yes, as the years go by, people are always thinner than yellow flowers. In a twinkling of an eye, the years of youth are fading away. Have you grown up as a pure child? Are you no longer sighing about the shortness of time for turning on and off street lights? Are you no longer willing to go to bed when people around you leave?
By Johnie Morrone5 years ago in Poets
Popping champagne like champs
Popping champagne like a champ, Floyd Mayweather ain't been through the fights I have,bitch you wanna hear my hearts beat ,then leave ,that cacophony of my lack of love ,caused me to abuse all that she was.I dont regret being such scum ,in the bottom of the barrel lies darkness that transmuted to character ,you think Oya doesnt know I'm not scared of her ? Popping champagne like champs Myke Tyson would of killed himself had he been through half what I have ,I'm running running running with the love of the world ,I'm smoking smoking smoking to show off my soul ,think ya got what it takes to know me in full ,I look like a monster girl ,you should step away to the sunny days ,I need a substance that knows the ways ,so I watch the smoke fly effortlessly, the epitome of everything is all I strive to be ,popping champagne like champs ,Ali and me took so many hits ,persecuted for greatness, behold the flesh, I sacrificed some in a mess,popping champagne like a champ and George Forman wouldnt be grilling in these steps ,but I am
By Robert mackenna5 years ago in Poets
