art

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

The Merging
All through the years, As summer is UP, The fall season starts at the TOP, As life goes on the Fall leaves fall OFF, Winter is to peak AT as we merge IN
By Rachael Frazier3 months ago in Poets
The Mirror Cycle (Poetry)
I. The Mirror Isn’t Me (Philosophical — AABB) . I look into the mirror’s face, A quiet, silver, borrowed space. It copies me without a sound,
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast3 months ago in Poets
A step through fallen leaves
“The world in a grain of sand they say, and a beauty in a wild flower “ An Immortality’s portrait.. I see amongst life and its stars
By David S. JohnsonWilliams3 months ago in Poets
The Green Man
The Green Man He watched the woods Leaves in his beard Eyes deep with age Calm in his breath Branches curled round him
By Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
Where are the Colours?
My front door was red when I was eight years old. Twenty years on, though faded and worn its still the same colour its always been
By Bugsy Watts3 months ago in Poets
1 Year Later - I've Made It, No You Have - No I Have , No You, Truly You
Okay, you know what " I" am going to say right, that without, you, it couldn't have been possible! Without the things you have done, life isn't the way it was, and I will just have to say - trust and believe.
By 365poetry3 months ago in Poets
"The Resident of Pain"
I am not a blank page, but the remains of a book which was not written and burned. To me no explanation wants... I have no presumptions about necessitating explanation. I am in this sound which has not softened. and the features that have not been made to smile. I do not tidy up my mess, but leave it a monument of what I have experienced. Any of my silences is a tale, and everything in my eyes turns the temporal and superficial. I am not a passer-by of pain... but a resident of it, I know it as I know my name... And I purchase it as picking up an ugly fate. I do not seek salvation, or raise my head towards the sky. I am the son of the heavy earth, and sister of primeval solitude. I already know something about darkness, and I shake my hands with it every single night and never tremble... and I know how to stare at it without asking to be lit... I am no beast that could be argued... but perceived... and feared.
By LUCCIAN LAYTH3 months ago in Poets
"The Tale of the Bird That Never Falls"
It was not my dream to fly. And the sky was not a promise to me. I did not choose my wings, nor was I allowed to choose my shadow.
By LUCCIAN LAYTH3 months ago in Poets
“The Cackle That Tried to Shrink Me A Mythic Protest Suite” . Content Warning.
The Body That Carried It All This is based on a true story. Two women. Two rooms. Two rhythms. One, a 76-year-old artist with long pink hair laid back, empathic, boho, old-school rock and roll.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 3 months ago in Poets
"The Creative Endeavor" Unofficial Poetry Challenge
That's right - I am so pleased to announce the opening of my third ever unofficial challenge on Vocal Media! It has been very inspiring to me to see how many folks have developed brilliant unofficial challenges, and even more so to see how many members of this creative community have showed up in droves to support and share stories. I hope the market for these unofficial challenges is not too oversaturated for me to slip this one into the mix - I really hope that the originality of the prize system for this one gets some folks excited. Thank you kindly for stopping by, whether or not you join in; your taking the time to read my work and consider my ideas means more than I could ever hope to put into words. :)
By Gabriel Huizenga3 months ago in Poets
OFF THE TOP 6
Might be bitter not a quitter Say I’m trash I’ll bring the litter Why’s the UK turned like this So you know It ain’t a diss
By Haychie_Artist3 months ago in Poets
Frost's First Trick
The crisp crunch of a different kind. Everything brown and dead has left. Ethereal and surreal, for sure— but the warning call,
By Paul Stewart3 months ago in Poets