art

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

My Quarantine Project
Preface I wanted to enter this writing challenge on photo editing, but felt I had nothing to contribute. I am 48 years old, and I sure tried to keep up with technology at first. It has changed so quickly over the decades, though, at some point I simply gave up trying — probably somewhere around Mac OS 9.
By @choosethesmiles5 years ago in Poets
The Grey Scale
I think I was born with a storm in my eyes God put one there cause I didn’t know how to show it otherwise. People told me my eyes are blue instead of grey
By alan pierce5 years ago in Poets
Grief
Heidi Heidi , Can I see you. Can I hold you. I didn’t get to kiss you. All we had was our promises. And those summer days that came and past.
By Vesselostatsea5 years ago in Poets
Color of the pain
What is the color of the pain Of the sorrow of the rage Of the bodies that have bled Of the hands that are stained
By Lida Farsi5 years ago in Poets
caught up
I am caught up, Caught up in my mind. It wants colour and variation, Who am I to give? But, a slave of time and rhyme,
By Jay Shah5 years ago in Poets
Colors
Colors have many meanings. Red is the color of roses and love, yet it is also the color of anger and blood. Blue is the color of the sky although, it is the color of sadness and loneliness.
By Wolfcanwolfwill5 years ago in Poets
my Ruby Red
If colours didn’t come alive at the beginning of the day, If only the still & dampened shades were chosen to stay, Our fragile world might crumble like clay.
By KJ Goruk5 years ago in Poets
They Ask Why We Need Poets
It’s always the same: they ask about my job and I am tongue-tied by the question. I tell them I write poems and they are quick to call it futile.
By Jess Janz5 years ago in Poets
THE MISER
I feel with my skin I feel with my heart I feel with my mind I feel words are art I think people seek misery for the simple fact to have something to talk about
By I Omnist5 years ago in Poets
Living with Synesthesia
Sometimes in this world Full of madness and hysteria I find myself in a standstill Feeling exhausted and inferior I’ll introduce myself to you
By Freya Webster 5 years ago in Poets
Heartbacks
Verdant cunt Mossy moisture Petals unfull their Jade seeds implanted Deep in dark brown earth Nothing grows in salt
By Monera Mason5 years ago in Poets
Images of a Self
Yellow and spaces rays golden embrace me... I’m on the nature corals purple deep vibrations, white and deep starvations
By Eugenia Mendez5 years ago in Poets