Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
See them, with me, and love them: far-travelers of many colors, singing a thousand melodies, storied, each, having crossed Atlantic, Pacific, dunes or plains,
By Gabriel Huizenga24 days ago in Poets
In fields of yellow flowers bright, You walk with courage, holding light. A heart so soft, yet brave and true,
By CA'Di LUCE * Confessions & Memories in Conversations with friends!/ It’s not a revolution—it’s a quiet evolution.24 days ago in Poets
Look in the parking lot - I am a NOBODY !? Look in YOUR house - I am a NOBODY!? Look in your phones - I am a NOBODY !? Me, what is the "priveledge" - of a NOBODY !? I'm even having spelling problems NOW, what I can't eve read properly, WHAT
By 365poetry24 days ago in Poets
Artist life is money poor, bank balance grows slowly, but other perks are huge. As today morning, I was making a landscape,
By Seema Patel24 days ago in Poets
I was telling my daughter that a friend said she wanted to live in the woods in a hut, with a cat. Daughter said
Somehow I woke up, I found the best thing - "A HAND" !? Somehow I woke up, I found the best thing known to any person - "A HAND" !?
6:19 AM in the UTC-6 time zone (Central Standard Time) is currently in countries like Mexico, Guatemala, Costa Rica, Honduras, Nicaragua, El Salvador, and "parts of Canada" and the US. It is also 6:19 AM in the Galapagos Islands.
In life lets say we had "900" friends !? After highschool we had "700" friends !? During college - we now have "500" hundred friends !? We get married we have "200" hundred friends.. What was the "Mathematical equation", the problem to be solved !? I have learnt the most horrifying thing in LIFE - No person knows when to END... NO person knows when to NOT exist !? NO person knows, when ENOUGH has NO other quality than just using the WORDS, ENOUGH... To this day, I have NO children - to this DAY !?
Something sits at the end of my tongue. A memory that is unable to form into words. A distant train bellows with the same frustration that pollutes the whites of my eyes.
By Amanda Abela24 days ago in Poets
Looking out of the window, listening to the seconds pass by. Any breath already taken, any second counting down, as the cells work inside us.
By Lucripa24 days ago in Poets
I sit quietly at the entrance of the house in the early morning. The air is still cool, carrying the fading breath of winter. The garden is silent except for the distant sound of a bird greeting the day. In front of me stands the peach tree, thin branches stretching gently toward the pale sky. It does not look impressive at first glance. Its limbs twist in quiet patience, reaching above the red tiles of the roof, as if sketching a quiet picture against the morning light.
By Ibrahim 25 days ago in Poets
I like this person - and he said let's move in together !? I said, where do you live !? He said URUGUAY - I said but that's 5,000 plane tickets a "Spongebob" bath, and the way things be looking a whole entire mysterious scenario happening !?
By 365poetry25 days ago in Poets
