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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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For me there is no narrative, no story within a story, no life story that encompasses all stories. When death comes the narrative I have been retelling myself will become a set of images, a small bundle of moments, a memory of a memory. I recall killing a murdering bandit chased him all over North Thailand, The satisfaction of putting two .22 Magnums slugs into his head after he surrendered. I could write a book about that, detail and narrate, perhaps elaborate and fudge all the circumstances that led to that moment, but none of it matters only the look in his eyes as the lights went out, that’s the image that stays. Of my first boyhood crush only the one image remains, her sour look seen through a teardrop. My father holding his arms aloft after the chemotherapy A victory salute two days before he died in the hospice. Of course there are other images, but there is no story worth reinventing. Each image is a fractal an incomplete mosaic of a whole, though clearer than any story that could be set to paper as a word-web of truth and fiction. When all that matters is what we see in a broken mirror then that splintering will speak for us not any story narrated by our own slyly embellishing ghost writer.

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For me there is no narrative, no story within a story, no life story that encompasses all stories. When death comes the narrative I have been retelling myself will become a set of images, a small bundle of moments, a memory of a memory. I recall killing a murdering bandit chased him all over North Thailand, The satisfaction of putting two .22 Magnums slugs into his head after he surrendered. I could write a book about that, detail and narrate, perhaps elaborate and fudge all the circumstances that led to that moment, but none of it matters only the look in his eyes as the lights went out, that’s the image that stays. Of my first boyhood crush only the one image remains, her sour look seen through a teardrop. My father holding his arms aloft after the chemotherapy A victory salute two days before he died in the hospice. Of course there are other images, but there is no story worth reinventing. Each image is a fractal an incomplete mosaic of a whole, though clearer than any story that could be set to paper as a word-web of truth and fiction. When all that matters is what we see in a broken mirror then that splintering will speak for us not any story narrated by our own slyly embellishing ghost writer.