Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
The breath of life, lost We inhale from ancient graves Raising rifles, slow
By Jonathan Lawrence3 years ago in Poets
Times flies with this shot Space moves forward and starts time Now is all you have
By Poetic Justice 3 years ago in Poets
Treasure left behind The past, buried, made solid Worth far more than gold.
By Shelby R Perez3 years ago in Poets
A Yupik Elder asked me once of an illness he had found Affecting all the Gussuck folk that he had been around. “Why do they chase the dollar so? What is this strange disease?
By balamurugan3 years ago in Poets
Old habits are immortal glimpses Of the changing state of reality. The smoke curling into the low ceilings here Smells the same as it did then
By Silver Daux3 years ago in Poets
The night is a mystery, so vast and deep A world of wonder, that we can't keep Secrets and stories, hidden away Mysteries that come, to light of day.
By Riparian3 years ago in Poets
Silence, a cloak that covers the land A stillness that no one can understand It's in the air, it's in the breeze An eerie calm, that makes me freeze.
The sea is a mystery, so deep and wide A world of secrets, that we can't hide Beneath the waves, a world unknown A place of wonder, that we must be shown.
Lost in the labyrinth, a maze so grand A world so vast, that's out of hand A web of paths, that lead astray A world of confusion, that's here to stay.
The universe, a mystery so vast A world of wonder, that's unsurpassed The stars that twinkle, in the endless sky A place of magic, that's hard to deny.
Shadows of the unknown, lurking in the night Mystical creatures, with eyes that shine bright Silent watchers, of our every move
In the dead of night, when all is still And not a sound is heard, not even shrill, Whispers in the dark begin to crawl Mysterious voices that make my skin crawl.
