art

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

Horror Stories
Horror Stories Many just like this This one's about a boy He opened his body Exposed his secrets Then he was destroyed
By Alvin Ellis7 years ago in Poets
Anonymous
A walk and stroll can be as platonic and placid to some and yet, to others; it is a portal to restart something that shall stain my mind. The day was like any other day and it was the vague notions of how a mundane moment can be changed by someone purely from a stroll at the trail. It was only a week since we met in this borderline strange situation and somehow, your presence induces me to ponder about what the meaning of life truly entails.
By Aiyan Turley7 years ago in Poets
Lay Down My Demons
In this, the fast approaching year, I find Myself content. To be at peace within, Without a glimmer of malice. The kind Uplifting thoughts may yet blight out my sin.
By Spencer Barrett7 years ago in Poets
The Jewel of the Orient
Scales sharpened at the knife of love. You've only given me gaze. Teeth too rigid for words of comfort. You've only given me a grin.
By ShondaWho7 years ago in Poets
Remembering Your Light
I’ve seen And occupied Plenty of rooms Filled with light And mirth. But I’ve Also been in One too many rooms Where isolation
By Anthony Cornatzer7 years ago in Poets
Things that Sing to Me
The sunny meadows, and the bright fields of glory. The trickling brook and its luxurious bed. The woodlands and its peaceful melody.
By Autumn Brown7 years ago in Poets
The Beauty Unseen
Fowardly following the subconscious mind From the inner workings of the gears that grind Presented back with a paper and pen
By A. Calderon7 years ago in Poets
Poems from the Heart
Eternal Love all I need is you all I want is you paint a rosy pictures it’s no ordinary dream can I play with you your my endless joy
By Daniella Farras7 years ago in Poets
Slow
I’m typing, super. Slow. But you wouldn’t know Know the speed of my typing Unless you were here with me Right? It's out of this city
By Free Minded7 years ago in Poets
How to Build a World - From the Perspective of an Illustrator
Welcome to the tutorial! Glad you could join me On this lovely early morning hour. You’ve already passed step 1! You’re staying well after you should have been in bed
By Jackie Barrows7 years ago in Poets
I Am a Straddler
I am Straddler This expressional sequence depends on the reader’s mood. A. The world is my clitoris. My vagina is a portal to the cosmos.
By Maria Crank7 years ago in Poets
Afraid of the Dark
I was afraid of the dark. Now, I make my own way. Life has left its mark, And you can see it plain as day. My skin is thick as bark,
By Thomas Phelps7 years ago in Poets