art

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

Obsessive stars
‘’Can you tell me what happened, from the beginning? The beginning. Isn’t that a bitter word? Beginnings always contain an end.
By Alysha 5 years ago in Poets
Musical
Music. It’s an outstanding figure of notes. Music relaxes our minds while adapting to the human body. Its amazing strength flows through our bodies while we
By Kantshens5 years ago in Poets
Open
This poem is open, Just like my heart was, once or twice In this life. I never gave it much thought, Never held any grief or strife.
By Mihaela Vasileva5 years ago in Poets
Anticipating the Blossom Before the Bloom. Top Story - April 2021.
We become ourselves surrounded by the words we write, word after word, we write ourselves into being. . Building words first,
By Sara Rose5 years ago in Poets
icarian ambition
he sneers at the sun in ambitious spite: his hands are smooth, porcelain, and fragile. within his eyes, a tenacious fire glows bright,
By ruth5 years ago in Poets
Spirit Talks💙
If I had the courage I’d say... I don’t always feel worthy of your love and that’s a strange situation for me because I’ve never felt that way before. It’s a deep reflection of how uncomfortable I am with myself right now, yet and still there’s no other place that feels more like home then you... that’s terrifyingly beautiful in all it’s glory. It’s like you’re the image of the life I can have the person I am and aspire to be every day, and I’m not her.. not in this moment. Every day I feel I fail myself in being her I feel as if I’m failing you. Pressure trying to be what I think is deserving of you. All the while knowing I am deserving simply by existing, breathing, being... me any doubt in that is a reflection of my self judgment holding me back confining me to critiques that go beyond you and I... to the beginning of time, generations of woman in my lineage heal through me as I shift the narrative and birth new light to our illuminating presence, returning us back to the Gods that we are that I am that I know I am every day. Despite the flesh telling me I’m weak, unworthy, not there yet... I am there even when I am lost , when I’m no where at all, I am there. Inescapable is the God in me. I am love as God is love, so i am never without even in those moments of doubt.
By Arsema Asghedom5 years ago in Poets
The Pond
January always seems to be so bleak; all things absorbed with thick blankets of snow and sleet. My cabin is but a speck compared to the desolate unknown. Looking past the long velvet drapes of my window, I see the pond.
By Hailie Ianno5 years ago in Poets
Violet Ink
*** In my desk drawer, Thousands of pages are curled up with ideas and poems that I still have to write! They are kept as Diamonds ready to be polished, Purified,
By Facundo Raganato5 years ago in Poets
Sonnet II
Whispered to me has this fell secret been: That dreams of youth have not yet been in vain. For still there is a beauty not yet seen,
By D.C. Yost5 years ago in Poets
Tips to arrange words properly in poems
It isn’t about arranging the Words to a Poem in some given order, as opposed to creating Lines of Verse which have a Rhythmic Flow to them. There is a certain skill required when Composing Lines of Poetic Verse and the focus should be more about this than concerning yourself with Rhyme! Some Poets would go so far as to say that a Rhyming Poem requires more skill in its construction, and they’re not entirely incorrect when stating this.
By Vinit5 years ago in Poets
Shoes on a line
If you drive through my neighborhood, you will most likely see, a pair of sneakers hanging from a powerline. Some will tell you they’re there because of gangs, marking their territory and claiming their turf. Others will say it’s a dealer signaling to you “Hey! Come and buy my crack!” The pigs will tell you it’s just some kids playing pranks and joking around (kid stuff). I don’t think I’ll ever know why there was a pair of sneakers hanging from a powerline in my neighborhood. I know that kid Jamal cut them down. He wears them for gym and basketball games. I’m the only one who noticed that’s where he got them from. I'm the only one that notices the little stuff. They say Jamal rocks at basketball, that he might be someone someday. Whatever reason those sneakers were on that powerline, it certainly did Jamal a favor.
By Sandrine Biagui5 years ago in Poets
Artist of Words
(I wrote this poem years ago when I started a “Poetry Journal”. I recently found this journal and not everything is very good but I still wanted to express it being part of me even from a young age.)
By Ashley Wentz5 years ago in Poets