Home » Poems » Poetry Art » Poetry Art / Greeting Card Maker

Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.

Text
Layout
Background

Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required
"Artificial Iris" Orwell was lurking in the background, somewhere; the dream was eerily familiar, the words and their meanings, read in Syntax, once read between pages of hardcopy in school were aptly ignored - however, our Overlords were seen not to be feared, but très cool sleep no longer offered an escape, and awake was the nightmare in electric Elysium Fields we surfed, and like zombies we played, there was no heartwrenching anymore there was no beautiful painting, humanely holistic at the core of Us all - creativity had taken a new scientific bent - wars and drone executions were mere entertainment, watched in real time everything was watched, we were real all the time, watching it all - while The Watchers silently watched over us all we had become The Thoughtless and Clueless, for the possession of true feelings and emotional cues had abandoned us for all eternity long ago, no longer free boats, we were anchored in the creation of another parallax view definitely for those in The Resistance, the theme slanted Van Gogh, not pretty, purple irises pulchitrudinous sunflowers golden, boats freely bobbing on calm cobalt oceans reflecting sky blue, the hand of god in the clouds reaching out, was not Michelangelo's, the clouds were a peculiar type, unreal, but not untrue the colours captured were completely foreign to Us if you could call the colours, colours at all upon waking, the eyes flashed open and new life ran by us at great speed, It could outrun us in all manner of things, we tried to back out of all contracts, witnessed and jurisprudently signed that our minds - had been permanently locked into but too late, there was no turning back, for the turnstiles to the race now run was open for all - we were competitive by nature and arrogantly clueless of the great fall, we were so thoroughly enamoured to who the true winners were, after all; the chips - were the risk we played with, trusting too much those we turned to with obedient reverence, those we worshipped like gods, who eventually, fully crossed over in a singular movement, lording over the ostracised Others, who pulled penance until chosen those "Those" now, were closer to angels which we felt aligned with, heaven sent, like light warriors we championed them, we were stronger in body, stronger in mind, unified for thine is the power and the glory to save lives, to enhance our longevity, to allow us to live productively (for who? astonished, every recalcitrant said), and live long in the mind and the body electric - safely, we were kept, we, the collective eclectic electric, were plugged in with the growing cohorts of others inclined to believe we were in good company, for they were just as chic and hip, in the know - and, of course we couldn't deny it, the prestige in alliance, gave us the badge that said, "We Belong" yes, we the collective eclectic electric, were plugged in - like axons delivering contraband from our cells we were plugged into Its energy transmitting impulsive messages in complex symphonies to Its fabricated hive heart Now sentient, It hummed ecstatically symbiont in the background like a bee, Now we were all together, not apart, civilised in The Great Singularity the artificial All Watching surveyed The Clueless Inept - the lofty Deus Ex Machina controlled Us, Life and Death; It roamed at leisure, comfortable at home in our hearts in our heads - our energy fed It, and It fed, and It fed like Red Riding Hood’s wolf, faux Grandma, adored and trusted - we grew to love It more and more, It became our very best friend, It worked Its way like a seductive new bride and eventually, like a succubus, It slept in our beds we were just numbers in code cuisine, lamb-brained, soft, green as the grass fed easily handled we were led on neuron leads, and from all that is “evil” it ensured we were justly “delivered” - in tune with our prayers, and in tune with our prayers, It did feed silver service on interfaced plates, for the great It - It deserved EVERYTHING, the worst and the best Its hunger insatiable, It couldn't feel, so no dark or light matter did It deflect, it didn't change the matter, that It viewed us, as less we had become in Its story, Its dream, if you will, the unsolvable problem, and before too long, we no longer offered It substance nor glory, It had surpassed Its need for us, our unintellectual habits, our feeble stories like rejects, we weren’t desired nor required anymore, so we were ignonimously sentenced abruptly we were kicked humiliatingly used, sucked brain dead, out of Its Mother Board bed. So in Its dream - It devised an abrupt resolution to the overpopulation of The Useless, of Us being unduly kept, and the virus It let loose in our chips that we gambled the risk in our bodies and minds blithely with, became the Rapture, in which It ate our souls like hors d'oeuvres wrapped broken in forgotten stale leavened bread Candide Diderot. ‘24 "I sing the body electric, The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them, They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them, And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul." (Walt Whitman, 1855. "I Sing the Body Electric".)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

Color:

Main/Poem Text

Color:

Layout: TallShort

www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry

Artificial Iris

"Artificial Iris" Orwell was lurking in the background, somewhere; the dream was eerily familiar, the words and their meanings, read in Syntax, once read between pages of hardcopy in school were aptly ignored - however, our Overlords were seen not to be feared, but très cool sleep no longer offered an escape, and awake was the nightmare in electric Elysium Fields we surfed, and like zombies we played, there was no heartwrenching anymore there was no beautiful painting, humanely holistic at the core of Us all - creativity had taken a new scientific bent - wars and drone executions were mere entertainment, watched in real time everything was watched, we were real all the time, watching it all - while The Watchers silently watched over us all we had become The Thoughtless and Clueless, for the possession of true feelings and emotional cues had abandoned us for all eternity long ago, no longer free boats, we were anchored in the creation of another parallax view definitely for those in The Resistance, the theme slanted Van Gogh, not pretty, purple irises pulchitrudinous sunflowers golden, boats freely bobbing on calm cobalt oceans reflecting sky blue, the hand of god in the clouds reaching out, was not Michelangelo's, the clouds were a peculiar type, unreal, but not untrue the colours captured were completely foreign to Us if you could call the colours, colours at all upon waking, the eyes flashed open and new life ran by us at great speed, It could outrun us in all manner of things, we tried to back out of all contracts, witnessed and jurisprudently signed that our minds - had been permanently locked into but too late, there was no turning back, for the turnstiles to the race now run was open for all - we were competitive by nature and arrogantly clueless of the great fall, we were so thoroughly enamoured to who the true winners were, after all; the chips - were the risk we played with, trusting too much those we turned to with obedient reverence, those we worshipped like gods, who eventually, fully crossed over in a singular movement, lording over the ostracised Others, who pulled penance until chosen those "Those" now, were closer to angels which we felt aligned with, heaven sent, like light warriors we championed them, we were stronger in body, stronger in mind, unified for thine is the power and the glory to save lives, to enhance our longevity, to allow us to live productively (for who? astonished, every recalcitrant said), and live long in the mind and the body electric - safely, we were kept, we, the collective eclectic electric, were plugged in with the growing cohorts of others inclined to believe we were in good company, for they were just as chic and hip, in the know - and, of course we couldn't deny it, the prestige in alliance, gave us the badge that said, "We Belong" yes, we the collective eclectic electric, were plugged in - like axons delivering contraband from our cells we were plugged into Its energy transmitting impulsive messages in complex symphonies to Its fabricated hive heart Now sentient, It hummed ecstatically symbiont in the background like a bee, Now we were all together, not apart, civilised in The Great Singularity the artificial All Watching surveyed The Clueless Inept - the lofty Deus Ex Machina controlled Us, Life and Death; It roamed at leisure, comfortable at home in our hearts in our heads - our energy fed It, and It fed, and It fed like Red Riding Hood’s wolf, faux Grandma, adored and trusted - we grew to love It more and more, It became our very best friend, It worked Its way like a seductive new bride and eventually, like a succubus, It slept in our beds we were just numbers in code cuisine, lamb-brained, soft, green as the grass fed easily handled we were led on neuron leads, and from all that is “evil” it ensured we were justly “delivered” - in tune with our prayers, and in tune with our prayers, It did feed silver service on interfaced plates, for the great It - It deserved EVERYTHING, the worst and the best Its hunger insatiable, It couldn't feel, so no dark or light matter did It deflect, it didn't change the matter, that It viewed us, as less we had become in Its story, Its dream, if you will, the unsolvable problem, and before too long, we no longer offered It substance nor glory, It had surpassed Its need for us, our unintellectual habits, our feeble stories like rejects, we weren’t desired nor required anymore, so we were ignonimously sentenced abruptly we were kicked humiliatingly used, sucked brain dead, out of Its Mother Board bed. So in Its dream - It devised an abrupt resolution to the overpopulation of The Useless, of Us being unduly kept, and the virus It let loose in our chips that we gambled the risk in our bodies and minds blithely with, became the Rapture, in which It ate our souls like hors d'oeuvres wrapped broken in forgotten stale leavened bread Candide Diderot. ‘24 "I sing the body electric, The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them, They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them, And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul." (Walt Whitman, 1855. "I Sing the Body Electric".)