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.
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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required there are those that think they have a one-on-one relationship with the faces on their screens, they draw conclusions from looks that they give the camera & things that are said in fleeting interviews--- these individuals secretly want to be on the other side of the screen, standing in front of the mic & not behind & when they get a bit too engrossed in their delusions, they start to speak about performers as if they knew them, as if they knew what it was like to live a lifestyle, as if they had an idea as to what it was like to devote all the energy & torment to the art & to swim in it, to walk in the fire--- with all the habits, with all the self-destruction that comes, with all the rage, with all the attempts at obliteration, with the great great egos, with the narcissism that chews away the structure of the body, with the reflection in the stream just begging you to drown down dead & these people praise all their lil’ fictional characters when their favorite performers hang up the drugs, they close their squinted eyes & hail the images of the characters from their lil’ fictional books, when they feel that their favorite rockstars are “healthy” now, because, quite frankly, they have become mundane, spent & useless. i want my favorite artists bleeding, i don’t know about you--- i don’t give a **** if they get happy, if they find the “one” & they pop out a few rugrats, move up to the goddamned country & place their guitars, their paints, their PC, electronic boards, etc. all up on the shelf so they can waddle round for a restful walk in the grass--- their art always begins to suck once they start to bathe in their wealth & they always start to bloat out & get fat, once they replace the drugs with “love”--- how easy it is to forget the terrors that you began to speak out against, how easy it is to lose grasp of that impetus that made you scream in front of a mic in the first place, when no one questions anything you do anymore & the red carpet gets rolled out even if you are just going to take a shit.
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