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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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In Bed The central nervous heating system pumping the womb floating free in seminal fluid sucking on the umblical chord Curled in the bed in the Reichian curlicue between clean silk sheets in the cosy cage away from the cold and the sleet’s scorching bone beat tumbling only when the flushing revolving door pulsates the thunder knocking to come crashing in the blood in the mother stream choking in the throttled rush Who wants to be out in the rain in the shine worrying about work about degrees no work lack of opportunity of hurts through making love warding off pain shame and the retributing conscience of justifying every action every little game of the mind from our own standpoint by running everybody down even those who stand up for us brother sister mother father backbiting in the sweating bed in the haven imagining triumphs glories rosy utopias Who hates not some one hates himself hates some body if not his maker at the thought of his plight out the safe mother oven harrowing hate turning the dynamo of pretence hypocrisy basking in blind bigotted bile hate stoking the intense rocket-thrust furnace consuming the guts till everybody hates everybody the most intense force hidden in the pleats of the neuronal strata hates the entire world all humanity the strongest human force generated by man Who would want to be out before time before we’re called upon to mind others we have put out of the womb of the world of the safety of the dream bubble bed unless if you call we can say go away i’m in bed or hold on just a sec come to bed bed with me till the morrows never end or something like that and keep the terror of the slinging mind from plunging through the cul de sac for yet a while longer April 26, 1997 – Paris © T. Wignesan – Paris, 1997 ; revised from the cvollection : longhand notes (1999)

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In Bed

In Bed The central nervous heating system pumping the womb floating free in seminal fluid sucking on the umblical chord Curled in the bed in the Reichian curlicue between clean silk sheets in the cosy cage away from the cold and the sleet’s scorching bone beat tumbling only when the flushing revolving door pulsates the thunder knocking to come crashing in the blood in the mother stream choking in the throttled rush Who wants to be out in the rain in the shine worrying about work about degrees no work lack of opportunity of hurts through making love warding off pain shame and the retributing conscience of justifying every action every little game of the mind from our own standpoint by running everybody down even those who stand up for us brother sister mother father backbiting in the sweating bed in the haven imagining triumphs glories rosy utopias Who hates not some one hates himself hates some body if not his maker at the thought of his plight out the safe mother oven harrowing hate turning the dynamo of pretence hypocrisy basking in blind bigotted bile hate stoking the intense rocket-thrust furnace consuming the guts till everybody hates everybody the most intense force hidden in the pleats of the neuronal strata hates the entire world all humanity the strongest human force generated by man Who would want to be out before time before we’re called upon to mind others we have put out of the womb of the world of the safety of the dream bubble bed unless if you call we can say go away i’m in bed or hold on just a sec come to bed bed with me till the morrows never end or something like that and keep the terror of the slinging mind from plunging through the cul de sac for yet a while longer April 26, 1997 – Paris © T. Wignesan – Paris, 1997 ; revised from the cvollection : longhand notes (1999)