art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
The Cut-up Poem. Top Story - June 2021.
WRITING A CENTO Writing is my passion, my craft, my life, my hobby, my career, and so on. It constantly supplies me with love, happiness, and overwhelming stress (do any of your loves and passions not stress you out?). The best part about writing is the challenging intensity that comes with constantly creating new art and life through words.
By Issie Amelia5 years ago in Poets
That road
When I walked past the old elm tree, something seemed to come out of my mind. I couldn't help looking back at the loess at the root of the tree, and slowly saw the white clouds in the sky along the tree poles and branches. The white clouds floated slowly, which reminded me of the koalas who crawled slowly on eucalyptus trees in the animal world and the little turtles who were watched in the pet market. But I didn't find what came out of my mind.
By cyriekassie5 years ago in Poets
snow
In October in the north, we haven't tasted enough sadness and richness in the meaning of late autumn. In the morning when we wake up, when we pull the curtains, we are shocked by the world's silver clothes. Cen Can's vivid pen of "is like a spring gale, come up in the night, blowing open the petals of ten thousand pear trees" is vividly displayed here. It also tells people that winter is coming!
By damonzokfavors5 years ago in Poets
What you have is really lucky
Happiness is not how big your house is, but how sweet the laughter in it is. Happiness is not how luxurious you drive, but how safe you drive home. The world around you is carefully experienced every day, and warmth is always by your side. This is a tiny happiness, so don't push your toes to reach it. Xiao Zhenxing is such a warm thing: the whole family is happy and harmonious; Scrambled eggs made by my mother; Cold drinks to drink; People who miss call; Long-lost smiles … They are little luck and happiness in life, fleeting beauty flowing in every moment of life, inner tolerance and satisfaction, gratitude and cherish for life. When we pick up these "little blessings" one by one and treasure them, we will also find the simplest happiness and happiness.
By thomasinchelby515 years ago in Poets
knapsack
Lonely travel, not only you, but also your backpack. -Inscription Traveling without relatives is lonely. Surrounded by strangers, they experienced sunrise and sunset together, but they were strangers after all. Difficult road to study, in a strange city, alone, silently experiencing everything, paving a dream road in the dark. In this case, it is your backpack that gives you the greatest strength.
By escalat.We.8654455 years ago in Poets
