Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
It is all of you that makes me, me. Your unique shade of red Fragmenting in ever so Exquisite hues. I drink it up and offer you mine -
By Whitney McMarks5 years ago in Poets
*Disclaimer: French bellow. This text was originally written in French and is therefore a translation. For the sake of clarity, some elements of the text have been changed from the original.
By Mélodie Bergeron5 years ago in Poets
When hard, heavy gray feels compelled to stay I want to wrap myself in my blanket to protect myself from the world. Gray consumes the joy in everything, leaving an
By Fabled Philonoist5 years ago in Poets
Ascended from the narratives of HUE, Reveals stories from DARK spaces, The LIGHT it gives, gives sight to stifled places,
By Kanika Collins Sharp5 years ago in Poets
Looks can be deceiving At first glance I appear like a plain quartz, but hold me up to the light and you'll be blinded by the fractals of colors you'll be receiving.
By Leslie castillo5 years ago in Poets
I wear my stories like a projection mapping artist Telling illuminating optical illusions on this brick house.
By Dara Randall5 years ago in Poets
10 FINGERS 5 ELEMENTS DOUBLED FIRE, AIR, SPACE, EARTH, WATER IN PERFECT UNION VIBRATING IN PERFECT HARMONY LIKE SPLIT COMPLIMENTARY + 2.
By ESHÉ ALL DAY HUES5 years ago in Poets
They blamed me and my color. A color you can see if you could only look inside of me. What did they see? They blamed me and my color for all the bad things that happen in this world. They blamed me and my color.
By BookOfGlory5 years ago in Poets
In my solemn colors I hold identity. Being different than the things that are, or are perceived to be, creates tension,
By Douglas Berg5 years ago in Poets
You cannot tell me anything When I’m in my purple shirt I hear the words you hurl my way Believe me, they don’t hurt
By Sean McCabe5 years ago in Poets
Whizzing over bumpy asphalt, clasping a silky scarlet scarf, which I stole from my mother's vanity, from one gear to another I switch.
By Rosa Soet5 years ago in Poets
