art

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

Last Summer
Last summer you were there to hold me, to give me love as always, till the summer rains came and you let go of my hand. Last summer my journey began,
By Rasma Raisters2 years ago in Poets
Pendulum
Life like the pendulum, of a clock, keeps moving back and forth, as minutes, hours and days, go rushing by. While we like marionettes,
By Rasma Raisters2 years ago in Poets
The Many Lives of Me
Life hasn’t turned out the way I had envisioned You know like the fantasy stories we heard as children I wanted to be a pirate sailing across the world on some grand adventure
By Matthew Mccahey2 years ago in Poets
Cancer
incase you cannot tell, i am a cancer passionate. complicated. overthinking until i get an answer i give out free therapy
By Kiesha’s Diary2 years ago in Poets
Fed Up and Foolish
This is technically a performance poem and is meant to be read with some kind of rhythm in mind. So... We're going to try something new.
By eawilcox2 years ago in Poets
Ghost Story
And something did go horribly wrong, all wrong in every way. First, it started when I spilled my coffee all over my work shirt. Work was rough too, every customer was such a pain and it felt like the day was moving in slow motion. I was happy to go home but too happy it seems. I got a speeding ticket for going 45 in a 30. Finally when I reached home the previous mishaps were simple inconveniences compared to what was to come. I got home to see my dog had gotten into some of the grapes I left on the counter and died. I had the dog taken away and grieved for my sweet friend. As I grieved I realized the same sensation as the nights before. A cold shift in the temperature, heavy pressure in the air as if I was being pushed into my bed. My thoughts began to race as I juggled my days inconvenience, my animals death and the horrid feeling that ate at my stomach. My gut told me to run, get out and get as far as I could from this place. However, I had nowhere to go and no money to rent anywhere else. I dealt with it, trying to find some rest closing my eyes. I could not relax, every few minutes or so I could feel the breeze of something moving over my body. As I opened my eyes nothing was there, my heart raced and I could not calm myself down. After hours of this I gave up on sleeping, battling the pressure of the air and the guy feelings that told me to get out in all capital letters. I began to read and as I did the lights began to flicker, I could almost feel the tension in the air. Where was it coming from? How could I stop it?
By J. K. Anderson2 years ago in Poets
Love
Love is a beautiful and complex emotion that brings joy, warmth, and connection to our lives. It's like that sweet TikTok video that makes you smile and feel all warm inside. Love can be found in various forms, from the love we have for our family and friends to the romantic love we share with a partner. It's like receiving a sweet paragraph that reminds you of how special and cherished you are.
By Ikhianosen Akhidenor 2 years ago in Poets
HIS EYES
I look for the meaning of affection in his eyes, looking at them, I find myself back to life. Those who drink by them gets carried away,
By Fariha 2 years ago in Poets
Venetian Roses
We must chase (& embrace) the roses blushing red with blood, or shame. Far better Herzeleid (union by another name) forever pierc'd by the thorn
By Halston Williams2 years ago in Poets
Lost in the moon
Beneath the moon's soft, silvery light, A lady graced the café, a beautiful sight, In the cozy corner, she'd often repose,
By Analogvibes2 years ago in Poets
Rag Doll
I feel ashamed, though I am a person. I feel unheard, though I am your daughter. I feel like a rag doll, though I am not a doll.
By Mi World2 years ago in Poets
Tracing in the Dark
A fine white ribbon unravels Follows the curves of a woman Defines her sultry shape Without revealing any real anatomy ***
By Gerard DiLeo2 years ago in Poets