Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
SMusic is my life project When I'm bored or overwhelmed When I'm sad or feeling lost I sing so I can feel positively good and centered
By Goran5 years ago in Poets
Holy Thursday: Is this a holy thing to see B Is this a holy thing to see, In a rich and fruitful land, Babes reducd to misery,
By Mohsin5 years ago in Poets
As a visual writer I write and I write Re-writing and rewriting Perfecting my in site To align every letter Just right.
By Donnetria Reed 5 years ago in Poets
Color is me, color is my mother, Painting together outside on a sunny California day. My mother's palette, An ensemble of colors running together
By Susannah Halliburton5 years ago in Poets
There are no words That can describe A little silly dog That trots at my heels And sits by my side As day grows e'er more long
By Corwynna5 years ago in Poets
Pull A String, A Puppet Moves b each man must realize that it can all disappear very quickly: the cat, the woman, the job,
Alive ,the light awakens incubation over dreary darkness changing the circumstances unknown though your born into a vessel that you never chose .
By Robert mackenna5 years ago in Poets
Sonnet L b How heavy do I journey on the way, When what I seek, my weary travel's end, Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,
'Twere sweet to have a comrade here, Who'd vow to love this garreteer, By city people's snap and sneer Tried oft and hard!
By shyam sapkota5 years ago in Poets
To me the winds that die and start, And strive in wars that never cease, Are dearer than the level peace
By Son Sim5 years ago in Poets
Chivalry by He strolls down the middle of the sidewalk leaving little room for me. I lag behind to get around an open gate, to avoid
By Lubna Khan5 years ago in Poets
Birches B When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
