Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Something is not right with people !? Who are they speaking to. who do they speak to everyday of the week that tells them information !?
By 365poetry6 days ago in Poets
Ink called my name like a late-night sin, Said just one line, let the healing begin. I swore I was done, said I’d learned my lesson,
By shallon gregerson6 days ago in Poets
The Crow Who Fell In Love With Emma A crow watched Emma in the late evening garden, black wings folded like a secret kept too long.
By George’s Girl 2026 6 days ago in Poets
My condolences Thoughts and prayers They were patriots They died for our country Our freedoms The lies we tell ourselves
By Atomic Historian7 days ago in Poets
Sir Winston slept thrice Tucked beneath foggy London Others? With his charges ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By Matthew J. Fromm7 days ago in Poets
I hope to never call a POLICE officer - I have compassion !? I hope I never have to call a POLICE !? I hope I never have to call a POLICE !?
By 365poetry7 days ago in Poets
The police said I need MY medication - a mentally ill person, who have NO family ! The police said I need to spend time with those who seemed to NOT have anything !?
After about a few times talking to myself - I thought why don't I just stop and ask people some question !? I could have learnt the greatest thing known to MAN - but let me try and make you understand !?
While action speaks more than words - what does it say about me !? A woman who has NO future in any country !? A woman who spent her money on clothes and shoes - the world has nothing else to offer !?
The board came as simple packaging in a utensils box. For me, everything is art surface. I love the of Japanese sumi-e
By Seema Patel7 days ago in Poets
So I woke up today and thought - why am I sad !? I woke asking myself - why am I depressed, walking around with a "10 month" OLD child in MY stomache !!
I broke Mother Tree Her Blood drips down Adam’s leaves Roots sleep to dream death.
By Melissa Ingoldsby8 days ago in Poets
