art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
@Embers End
A light glows forgetting this plane Far riding towards those supernal lanes In nature it’s more rising—much above that scouring fame On that calumnious, strobing and shining, Much more brighter, all along those nobler planes The unbeaten earth stands still, Steadfast, in spite of the loamy turgid, rising thro’ its veins By the fire many violet blossoms shaken loose, untie from their rooted plains, They seek an element far afar, as change in time comes thro’ time and again With those early keens swept above those burning flames 🔥 Out of life and into that glory They board some unknown train! Forgotten, as return would bare ‘em much more pain They grow in heart while the blazoned timbers crackle under eternal plains It’s a rush Flying beyond —where the real world comes to a final end Into that yonder, where the silent hearth fiercely bends Far out —over the hills -up there —to meet “his” glory ready to blend It’s —that humbled mind, specter’d in devotion wholly lain O! Gumptious brain whose pouring is limitless off of those roaring flames In nature it’s more rising much above—that infernal fame On that calumnious strobing and shining, Much more brighter—all across those nobler planes © « Madhu Goteti, April 27th, 2022
By Madhu Goteti about a month ago in Poets
I Am From
I am from a glass town, not well known but of great affluence. I am from a yellow and brown parsonage, with a second-story, screened-in porch where my brothers and I would play with legos. I am from our family dog Bandit, a husky mix. I am from the neighborhood kids I was friends with, and the backyard which seemed huge as a child that in reality was kinda small, but it had a tree fort in the very back that was so much fun to play on.
By Caleb B Geigerabout a month ago in Poets
