Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Too early to say what shall or shan’t be, too late to stay away or beneath; the lonesome, the fulsome can’t scape but are free.
By Estefania Garcia Equihua8 years ago in Poets
Lend me your words, fill my head with melodies. Drown out the words of people superior to me. Bring me to another world,
By VKL8 years ago in Poets
Loving me and who I aim to be Effortlessly dug deep down inside of thee To acknowledge that I wasn't even involved with me
By LaNesha "SoBetta" Stile8 years ago in Poets
Swirls of sensations dance on my tongue as sweet delight fills me. The rhythmic pounding that was trapped in my brain edges away.
By Erin Winans8 years ago in Poets
It's bittersweet because beneath the heat of my love a cold heart shudders me sleep makes me weak, it does It's bittersweet because
By Chris Johnson8 years ago in Poets
I had a dream we were in a magazine and our lives were a perfect picture Flaws in this dream were gone and missing only beauty
By Hannah Wolfe8 years ago in Poets
Dressed up in shirt and tie, rebellion in my head, I’m strollin’ down the street with punk-rock in my steps. I’m gonna write myself just right into the Nobels,
By David Intrabartolo8 years ago in Poets
My overwhelming brain drives me insane Much like a lion that has not been tamed It’s hard to refrain from knowledge gained
By Kayli Martin8 years ago in Poets
Fixate your eyes on this citrus circus! Where dope desire Was extra space, Is now filled with elite elixir. A fragile fire at my feet
Life is such a complicated intricate thing Like a rose raveled in silk shimmering petals. Yet we are creatures, humans, So disturbed we want to pick them apart one by one.
What does it mean to be a poet? Is it sighing out your breath slowly and carefully onto paper? Or is it cutting into the blood in your veins ripping yourself apart till the world sees your bones laid bear?
By Tiana Wolfe8 years ago in Poets
I am a papermate pencil, Numero dos. Dressed in a design of Handcrafted wooden, or I am nonetheless Golden glimmering plastic,
