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 I love having— hating the feeling of wanting. Wanting cuts my guts as consequentially as diarrhea. I steal casually, like second breaths after waking, or proper newborns latched onto Mama’s nipple. It is inspired vice. There’s a teaspoonful of buccaneering Barbarossa sprinkled in my lines. I commit careless crimes— not much outside the magpie’s range. I am the cupbearer at Mass now. All men are wanting persistently. Other men’s carelessness is providential, inviting nosy rats to the quiet catwalk. I collect on neglect, underprized nuggets that poke at my wonder, scratching curiosities. I stole wives off petty husbands, decaying cars banked by roadways, the overhanging fruit of fat landlords, words from Webster’s to ennoble intellect, thoughts from tinkers; Christ’s reflection—but the mirror stole it back. Psych docs lower me on leather beds, wanting to safe-crack my mystery. I tell them Barbarossa blood ties tarnish, birth bandits. Shrinkers countdown— ten, nine, eight... I am paroled to a fantasy field of rare, clean earth, of no lack. There is my First mother. She is a beauty queen. Me, unseen. She is careless, drawn by luster. I yell, spoiled apples! Me, unheard. She tastes. She calls my First father to probe the coveted yield. I am bidden too. I eat. Theirs is mine. A primordial gift is constant craving.
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