Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
I wonder if he talks about Hockney to others or if he just does that with me? And what if I wanted to just brush black circular
By Didi Menendez7 years ago in Poets
There is nothing to pinpoint Of the strange beast. Only images, Blurred and refracted, Fleeing down a hallway Of mirrors.
By Erin Suurkoivu7 years ago in Poets
CHAINS Crawling on hands and knees, something holds us back. How can we fly with these chains we bear? Add another; we will carry our prison with us until we crack.
By Mel E. Furnish7 years ago in Poets
Colours splashed across the page my hands flew all over the place as if they had a creative mind the colours started to turn into a face.
By David Boers7 years ago in Poets
Each brushstroke has a meaning like a human being's life. It was put there for a purpose so don’t hurt yourself with knife.
Maui, Hawaii. Mid April. Meditation days. I looked across the grassy space & saw a woman with elegant hands blending into red silk fans.
By Gavriella7 years ago in Poets
Breathe... Sometimes we are in "the eye of the Storm" other times we are on the fringes of it. Ever aware of its imminent destruction. We sigh; when it safely passes.
By Juanita's Thoughts7 years ago in Poets
Dragonfly is track #3 from the Never Grow Old EP which is OUT NOW on all the usual download stores. It was written in the summer of 2013 on a warm June day.
By Darren Claxton7 years ago in Poets
School desk filled with papers and books. Eyes staring into the distance. Envisioning lands of magical brooks, Deceiving folk with good looks,
I shudder that you love me Exorbitant and large Full of eagle and dragon Pulsing with all of your heaven Singing every river
By philosophia lux7 years ago in Poets
Growing up, it was traditional for me and my family to drive by the bay. We would stop at this one spot that seemed to be hidden from the rest of the town.
By Christina C7 years ago in Poets
I close my eyes and I am at Peace and it is so. I close my eyes, and see into the hearts and homes of families and they are at Peace.
By Rick Beneteau7 years ago in Poets
