art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Layla's Eyes
By day, the sun ignites the sand, A scorching gaze across the land. But in your eyes, Layla, I see, A moonlit oasis, cool and free.
mahmoud elsaadPublished a day ago in PoetsFlotsam Dances, Free
Flotsam dances, free, Nature's tapestry unfolds, Soul's journey embraced.
Printique StudiosPublished a day ago in PoetsThe Legacy of the Ankle Bracelet
In the silent drawer of an old dressing table Lies a silver and gold circle, A delicate ankle bracelet. Ancient stories are silently placed in each fold and turn of it.
GiftsFlash.comPublished a day ago in PoetsThe Heart’s Healing
In a garden that has grown wild, under the eaves of whispers in time, Where dark meets light every day, There is a path worn out and rained upon,
GiftsFlash.comPublished a day ago in PoetsG-A-M-E
Gaming is a passion that fuels my soul Always seeking new challenges and goals My heart races with excitement and thrill Every victory brings a sense of fulfillment
I swear it was locked…
I was around 13 or 14 years old when this chilling incident occurred. Every weekend, I used to sleep over at my cousin's sprawling two-story house to spend the entire weekend playing games late into the night.
spooky sessionPublished 2 days ago in Poets- Top Story - April 2024
cherry
the cherry trees weep in pink. the concrete cracks in jagged edges. tears dissolve the barren spaces like acid.
Children of the Sand
Across the sands, where sun beats down, My loyal friend, with nary a frown. Jamal, my camel, strong and tall, You answer every desert call.
mahmoud elsaadPublished 2 days ago in PoetsThe First Time
Out in the golden haystacks at midnight, summer comes ablaze, and we fall nose to nose, for the first time. Your breath smells like peaches,
Antoni NimaPublished 2 days ago in PoetsNever install a doggie door bell
We installed a doggie doorbell so that when my dog's friend came over, the dogs' owner could ring the doorbell and we could let them play together.
spooky sessionPublished 2 days ago in Poets"BIRTH, LIFE, DEATH"
BIRTH, LIFE, DEATH ARE WE JUST DUST IN THE WIND? I walked outside in the 80-degree sunshine today. I looked across the way
Vicki Lawana TrusselliPublished 2 days ago in PoetsWinter Morning
There's something to be said about the silence of the dawn blanketed across molecules celeste, like a silky cloth laid out by the moon.
Antoni NimaPublished 2 days ago in Poets