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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.

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]= THE STRANGER MAN (1) Once a foetus when I began the venture And sloughed from the cove of the womb Now closer the monstrous possessions I built of life on the foundation of a tomb; Thus, wherein no dust, no flesh beside. ‘Tis a drab and dull existence Grey and brown, the sky and earth A clime, an ambience right for sojourn But routine tasks, to eat, sleep and work. Planting and reaping, we worn out Before the land or the land before us. Hence we give way or a way given us. ‘Tis I bid to be what i have been not; And to have all that i have had not; Ambitions and longings all clothed me, I strove, but time takes precedence As fate takes her turn upon my scheme And circadian Sculptor works my figure. It’s a small world, I heard them say But at least, lengthy enough to rove And wide to play china man’s ping-pong. And true by Smokie’s proposition: Though the world is overcrowded, You still found an empty place. All through this circuitous life I fare, Either am leaving people and things I come across or they are leaving me; As time, fate, God, my actions demand. Nothing I own and nothing own me Except to pay the price of time span More the span, more the price to pay. For all Being bequeathed a portion Of life’s incubi as well as of life’s jollity, For then are both intermeshes within the mind To settle with those who accommodate them. ‘Tis the fear of incubus and need of jollity Are life’s bother for minds concerned with them. The world, us she owes nothing but Her we owe all, her possessions encompassed And she demands forfeiture, her bottom bared To swallow up all her debtors. Comforts and pleasures fled the flesh Which we have nourished and fatten for the soil; Is manure for grains, fertilizer for greens To nourish and fatten yet their sons. She is the mother, wife and daughter of men Spewed from her womb to swallow them again. The earth pallied not with her neighbours, Alone the unlimited space wanders on, Yet to build a nest but to tramp the sphere, As an outcast in ageless time to wander on. So with her I wander through the labyrinth of life. Unlike them, they that sit like the poles Abuse the hoboes and dislike the traverser And build for the muckish flesh foundations So that they cannot budge from the land; The wandering earth too has infest With a fleeting life as the weary wanderer.

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The Stranger Man

]= THE STRANGER MAN (1) Once a foetus when I began the venture And sloughed from the cove of the womb Now closer the monstrous possessions I built of life on the foundation of a tomb; Thus, wherein no dust, no flesh beside. ‘Tis a drab and dull existence Grey and brown, the sky and earth A clime, an ambience right for sojourn But routine tasks, to eat, sleep and work. Planting and reaping, we worn out Before the land or the land before us. Hence we give way or a way given us. ‘Tis I bid to be what i have been not; And to have all that i have had not; Ambitions and longings all clothed me, I strove, but time takes precedence As fate takes her turn upon my scheme And circadian Sculptor works my figure. It’s a small world, I heard them say But at least, lengthy enough to rove And wide to play china man’s ping-pong. And true by Smokie’s proposition: Though the world is overcrowded, You still found an empty place. All through this circuitous life I fare, Either am leaving people and things I come across or they are leaving me; As time, fate, God, my actions demand. Nothing I own and nothing own me Except to pay the price of time span More the span, more the price to pay. For all Being bequeathed a portion Of life’s incubi as well as of life’s jollity, For then are both intermeshes within the mind To settle with those who accommodate them. ‘Tis the fear of incubus and need of jollity Are life’s bother for minds concerned with them. The world, us she owes nothing but Her we owe all, her possessions encompassed And she demands forfeiture, her bottom bared To swallow up all her debtors. Comforts and pleasures fled the flesh Which we have nourished and fatten for the soil; Is manure for grains, fertilizer for greens To nourish and fatten yet their sons. She is the mother, wife and daughter of men Spewed from her womb to swallow them again. The earth pallied not with her neighbours, Alone the unlimited space wanders on, Yet to build a nest but to tramp the sphere, As an outcast in ageless time to wander on. So with her I wander through the labyrinth of life. Unlike them, they that sit like the poles Abuse the hoboes and dislike the traverser And build for the muckish flesh foundations So that they cannot budge from the land; The wandering earth too has infest With a fleeting life as the weary wanderer.