Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Concrete octopus watching walkers on the pier tides do not come near. Copyright © 12/08/2025 by Andrea O. Corwin Thanks for stopping by! 😃 You can subscribe for free. Please consider leaving a comment. ✍️❤️
By Andrea Corwin 2 months ago in Poets
Designs dance and twirl on the paper as the artist twists and turns his pen. Black ink begins to shield the white as a beautiful picture forms.
By Kaitlynn2 months ago in Poets
The last of my fire flickers and dies, A life fading in ashes before my dark eyes. It is here that the phoenix is destined to rise,
By M. A. Mehan 2 months ago in Poets
Aging is like a tree, And when you are young, you are green Smooth and fresh and full of gleam And also fragile: prone to breaking with ease
By Linétte 2 months ago in Poets
On a cold December night I'm warming up by the campfire Watching flames that don't get tired Moving with rhythm in the fire
By José Juan Gutierrez 2 months ago in Poets
I take the time think about what pushes my life There are good things that come over time A stable life and economic pride
What I Hear Beneath It All I start with the thudding truth the kind that sits behind the ribs and refuses to move on command. Some days I breathe around it. Some days it breathes for me.
By Printique Studios2 months ago in Poets
It's Christmas time, my dears I hope you're ready for some holiday cheer I don't know If it'll snow But I want you to feel joy
By Domi2 months ago in Poets
Proud of Celtic heritage, Glaswegian born and bred. / The sound of the pipes, the infectious laughter of The Big Yin —
By Paul Stewart2 months ago in Poets
There is beauty in you And in me Is it seeing flaws in the beauty? Or beauty in the flaws? Does it matter? We all see beauty differently
By Atomic Historian2 months ago in Poets
Always sounds grand in the moment An expression of hope To conquer every unknown valley and slope Little do we know that always means in all ways
The city breathes a silver sigh, As dusk descends and clouds draw nigh. Then sudden rain, a gentle fall, Washes the grit from every wall.
By The 9x Fawdi2 months ago in Poets
