art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
I wish the scars of the soul could be seen
I wish the scars of the soul could be seen The scars that are inflicted deep within the soul often run deeper than the ones that are visible to the naked eye. Pain in its amorous embrace sets its fangs deeper into the crevices of the acts and syllables recorded in its intangible zest. Our heart knows moments that it tries its best to bury inside the depths of its brevity. There is both beauty and severance in the transitory moments of life. It has the most radiant days and the most desperate of nights. There are moments of light and joy and then there are moments of darkness, of hours of plight that behold and bemoan on us for being pure.
Hridya SharmaPublished a day ago in PoetsThe Fire Within
In the depths of night, when shadows loom, And doubts assail, like waves that boom, There lies a spark, a hidden gleam, A flame of hope, in hearts unseen.
Hafsa JabeenPublished a day ago in PoetsCrimson Skies Unfold
Crimson skies unfold, Nature's depths, a tale untold, Guidance from within.
Printique StudiosPublished a day ago in PoetsEverlasting Verse: Poem to My Beloved
In the garden of my heart, she blooms, A rose of passion, in soft, sweet perfumes. Her laughter, a melody, in the air it swoons, Her touch, a gentle breeze, beneath the moon.
Kalu ClintonPublished a day ago in PoetsWithered flowers
In a garden once bright with colors bold, Now stand withered flowers, weary and cold. Petals once vibrant, now faded and dry,
Falcon
In the sky, where the falcon flies so high, With keen eyes that pierce the azure sky, Wings outstretched, in majestic array,
Shiny rock in the sky
Oh shiny rock How did thou end up in the sky Shining every night Making the waves go high But disappears when it's day.
- Top Story - March 2024
Mushroom Mami
I am a mushroom mami I bloom in dark and damp places. Places that most of us avoid. I thrive where things decay Mouring losses where hope once laid
Ashley AntunesPublished 2 days ago in Poets - Top Story - March 2024
A Call to Witness
What if I told you- you are the witness to my life. . Would I be speaking selfishly? . Bringing to life, Humanities resolution
Rachael MacDonaldPublished 2 days ago in Poets The Moon in Me
The moon in me is full of emotions, Contractions of substance, Mending devotion. Ever changing and forever moving, Within and beyond.
Gabriela Trofin-TatárPublished 2 days ago in PoetsKaleidoscope
Speck- led, escalop/ed, opalesce plea * spli/ced, s.l.i.c.e.d (looped) scope * lace like c o o l e d solace * special dose;
Paul StewartPublished 2 days ago in PoetsTHANK ME LATER
Can’t be stacking all my sins Tryna throw them In the bins Major minor take a pick…. Thank me later with the wins I’m not perfect but I’m solid
Haychie_ArtistPublished 2 days ago in Poets