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 " Tortured metaphors spilling from tequila lips, t i p t o e on my pulse ~ breaking in an arced smile of the featherless eclipse, where I waltz as a secluded steel-shine, sobered s o f t l y by the taste of satanic stars..." I'm the loss of a leaf from gold-dew aspens, rippling upon turquoise typewriters, where drunk fingertips dance. Turning to ashes, my heart m e l t s as a metallic grenade, and no philosopher's stone ever reverberating in its silver-winged silence. Seeking shelter from smoldering seas, I curl up in the womb of a guardian willow ~ she's a weeping angel of n e v e r l a n d, with an ornamented garland of guns and roses, enveloping me in the corpse of sunset. Plunging from diamond cobwebs into isles of champagne, like a dynamite dove bloodthirsty for sun, I l u r k along reefs studded with rhinestones, unfurling – lotus manuscripts as poetic pearls s l i p and t w i r l, snorkeling in an obsidian oasis. I miss being a purple-whisper prophecy, threaded in fractured letters, for now, my ink b l e e d s in the marrow of moon, where an alchemy is lost and found... In the chronicles of carnelian clemency and supernova sorcery, I've seen arctic assonances hibernating in the throats of those, holding lethal jewels as a nightingale's neon noose. So, if my soul is an opal widow of your thistle-light affection, a verse romanticised will be my crystal coffin, and in the caricatures of kohl and karma, our silent soliloquy shall delicately be shifted. Surfing in the splitting s i n s of a salty saviour, this whiskey damsel shall evermore remain a scentless phrase, scrapped by pencilled brush-strokes, i n v i s i b l e in our paper-cut destiny...
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