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.



Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
The Mad Poet
The poets mad his ramparts stormed his mind has twisted his head has turned, bridges smashed the battle lost and his note books we have burned. Padded white walls screwed down stalls, no place to run so they like to think, but lashing out I think a scream and use my thoughts like a laser beam. But though they listen they can’t hear me think And I break the silence with a blink. More books and opinions needles and the oh such bitter sweet twisted use of the nations electric power sauce, it feeds me; if only they knew. If only you; ugh there you go again trying to burn away parts of my brain But those parts are my muse and you call me insane Go ahead and twist some more light me up and switch me on Strap me down and wire me up but you cannot make my muse be gone. Don’t stop now you’re having fun and we’re only half way done, Don’t mind me I’ve played here before but by harsher rules and with twice the tools but you can’t make my muse run. Still alive I cling to the poet’s standard of a poet’s pen resting on the forever-clear paged book of works yet to be penned, And using my sword I pull myself up and look deep into the clear blue page before I take some words to shape and bend. This torture I speak of that’s so damaging to the poets mind It’s known as the torture of day job and it sends the night writer blind.
Copyright © 2024 Mark Fullick. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things