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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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We have brought this upon ourselves: This virus, this egregore: This cult of individuality. Our right to die and bring others with us! Truly an inversion of full potentiality: Others live so we may make right. The Sun shines on all, says the Teacher, And vanity blows among its rays. Like a mask covering a face, so the individual masks their community: The community devoted to the rite of self-absorption and absolute dismissal of the Absolute that is the ground beneath us all. In the guise of a serpent, pleading to be left alone, like the man behind the curtain, pulling the strings of our poem, like a talking donkey, kicking us down the road, this power and principality wants us to become I and all to be you so it may survive another day, sacrificing us at the anti-altar of death and decay. No blood will flow – no life to be seen - growing and growing, spreading its seed: From west to east, by the forces of materiality and powers that be. There’s a certain irony to it all: We must as individuals overcome our idiotic being - rather, be captured by the wonder of the other - and come to the altar fully experiencing the body and blood of the Other fleshed before us, drawing our eyes toward the gaze of an other.

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The Sacrifice

We have brought this upon ourselves: This virus, this egregore: This cult of individuality. Our right to die and bring others with us! Truly an inversion of full potentiality: Others live so we may make right. The Sun shines on all, says the Teacher, And vanity blows among its rays. Like a mask covering a face, so the individual masks their community: The community devoted to the rite of self-absorption and absolute dismissal of the Absolute that is the ground beneath us all. In the guise of a serpent, pleading to be left alone, like the man behind the curtain, pulling the strings of our poem, like a talking donkey, kicking us down the road, this power and principality wants us to become I and all to be you so it may survive another day, sacrificing us at the anti-altar of death and decay. No blood will flow – no life to be seen - growing and growing, spreading its seed: From west to east, by the forces of materiality and powers that be. There’s a certain irony to it all: We must as individuals overcome our idiotic being - rather, be captured by the wonder of the other - and come to the altar fully experiencing the body and blood of the Other fleshed before us, drawing our eyes toward the gaze of an other.