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 Hangmans Great Hands
And all that is this day.
.
.

The boy with cap slung over what had been a face.
.
.


Somehow the cop will sleep tonight, will make love to his
wife.
.
.

Anger won't help.
I was born angry.
Angry that my father was
being burnt alive in the mills; Angry that none of us knew
anything but filth, and poverty.
Angry because I was that very
one somebody was supposed To be fighting for
Turn him over; take a good look at his face.
.
.

Somebody is going to see that face for a long time.

I wash his hands that in the brightness they will shine.

We have a parent called the earth.

To be these buds and trees; this tameless bird Within the
ground; this season's act upon the fields of Man.

To be equal to the littlest thing alive,
While all the swarming stars move silent through The merest
flower
.
.
.
but the fog of guns.

The face with all the draining future left blank.
.
.
Those smug
saints, whether of church or Stalin, Can get off the back of
my people, and stay off.
Somebody is supposed to be fighting
for somebody.
.
.
And Lenin is terribly silent, terribly silent
and dead.
Written by: Kenneth Patchen

Book: Shattered Sighs