Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
Miles and miles and miles and Sing-alongs on the radio, Beach bound and wind tangled hair But I’m eighteen with no time to care
By Marianna H8 years ago in Poets
oh agatha it burned when you left like exiting a sewer and smelling fresh daylight again angry and i was hot and i was
By Sophie Barnes8 years ago in Poets
My toes carry the weight of my feet, My feet carry the weight of my ankles. My ankles carry the weight of my calve, My calf carries the weight of my knee,
By Bella Fulk8 years ago in Poets
Four guys having their lunch I’m just in my zone I’m forever alone Whether I’m home Or in my dome I’m just living my best life
By Jovan Lemar8 years ago in Poets
Dim and dark drops of desire, Glitter up in the frothing gyre. I watch the colors combust and implode, I wonder when these salt grains will erode.
There is a consequence to a sigh, To which you cannot formulate a counter reply. Sentiment and reason seem to hold little meaning,
The forest was shrouded in moon drops, Golden for the sake of a bird’s blue egg. A crack from a twig or the indigo shell,
Lo-Li-Ta You look at me and you see Blonde hair, red lips Lost in reality Filled with nothing but love and desire I listen to old songs
By Brownie Haze8 years ago in Poets
Vibes and tribes. It's almost a test of survival. We throw ourselves into the unknown abyss of autopilot-ing "friends." We learn that our hearts grow much bigger and wilder when we realize what we've just done...
By Chloe Wyant8 years ago in Poets
I slink into the bathroom trailed by my robe’s shadow. The mirror reveals gray hairs lining up on the crown of my head. The fading brunettes of a prime lost to
By Andrea Cladis8 years ago in Poets
Dear Addiction, I’m sorry but I must leave you behind. You’re no good for me I feel like I’m dying I feel as though you ripped my heart from my chest and burn me at the stake. I feel as though you hate me and that you never wanted me.
By Trinitie James8 years ago in Poets
It's a pain that strikes me in the streams of my emotions A thought that drives my sanity wild and a feeling that purges a sadness of depression and grief
By Sandy Jackson8 years ago in Poets
