art

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

The Fate
I'm having a new life and learning new things, but I don't think I deserved it because of what I did in the past. ...
By Lucripa2 months ago in Poets
Where Your Spark
I feel it first as a quiet stir right behind my ribs, a soft flare rising without asking, as if your presence reaches me
By Printique Studios2 months ago in Poets
Just Art
Every dish has been molded. Created and designed for use. Some for kings and queens— Others for every day humanity. All have been assigned their use.
By Marysol Ramos2 months ago in Poets
x.muteness.x
Walking alone through this dark tunnel, searching for what I lost. Silence in my mind, even I can't hear my heart speak.
By Lucripa2 months ago in Poets
GOSPEL OF THE RIGHTEST
CAST YOUR EYES UP AT ME GAZE AND ADORE, WORSHIP FOR I AM WHITE, MALE AND STRAIGHT ~ I DO NOT CARE, NO EMPATH NO SIMP FOR YOUR FEELINGS
By Paul Stewart2 months ago in Poets
YELLOW ROYAL POYCOLI SEASON IN DA LAT - A BRIGHT BEAUTY IN THE HIGHLANDS
When summer comes, Da Lat not only stands out with the purple color of Lagerstroemia or the white color of Bauhinia flowers, but also shines with clusters of yellow royal poinciana flowers in Da Lat. Discover the unique beauty and the most ideal places to see yellow royal poinciana flowers for a memorable trip.
By HieuDinh2 months ago in Poets
Annotation Of A Life.
Life’s going too fast, so I mark every line. Reiterate every street, every obvious sign, as if the art of noticing could save me from forgetting.
By Marvelous Michael2 months ago in Poets
I Consume, So I Create.
I consume so I create. Living, breathing, becoming. In an age of overconsumption, I turn excess into expression.
By Marvelous Michael2 months ago in Poets
The Garden
There is a garden for the faded things (this is where all wistful thinking springs) And the longer I live, the greater it grows -
By Gabriel Huizenga2 months ago in Poets
Over the Horizon
The Horizon Opens Before the whisper, before the chord, before the balloon caught wind There was a breath. A breath that stirred the archive,
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 months ago in Poets
Unpolished, Still Becoming
I am the sum of what I’ve carried— skills gathered like bright stones from places I didn’t know were teaching me.
By Melanie Rose2 months ago in Poets
Mending. Honorable Mention in Harvest of Memory Challenge.
Several weeks ago the daylight shortened and night began lengthening - An unspoken message to all that it was time to begin the season of gathering,
By Pōlani Monderen 2 months ago in Poets