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 Now that I have gotten that over with, Being straightforward as a piss-ant on fire, Telling you it just is what it is, That behind all the frizz, Is a beardless fake whose heraldic bearings Are the arms of a sickly snake, And that all this derogatory self-derision is decisively the result Of a disease smitten assault by a prodigal bug Whose virility is known to create sterility of poetic taste- Oh what a waste to find oneself in such a caste, Outcast in a landless mire of sea, Where there is no Sea king to lead back to land, Where seeking leads not to seeing But only to being the miserly plot written by this poetasters hand- Now, to repeat, that I have gotten that over with, I can really try, Once and for all, To really get it over with. Like really really real. So here it is, In medias res, The big ordeal: Merde! Merde! J’ai oublié on this very day, To have taken my ressurectine, The nectar which this fool requires with some dismay To not forget his pointless points. Where is my medicine Edison? Where is my pill? How shall I cart this over the hill? O’sir, Dear sir, For in the middle of this rabid petri dish of sheer excitement, Close to moiety’s shribble, With voice shrill, Ready to take aim and avoid all shame, I was, I was, I was, I swear Almost there, But alas, I am, Now out of gas, With nothing more to gain, A timid loveless swain, A witless poet with no further words to amass, A neutered puppy in a jungle, Without a rumble, To stumble upon just the right word, To close off looking less like a turd, Then this early morning bird, Preferably one day, Could theoretically mumble. Did I mention that between finding Absolute Knowledge, And miming Absolute Knowledge, I would like to find myself snuggly ensconced in the arms, Of not only Winnie the Pooh, But surely Yogi Berra too?
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