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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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Today, we remember the long, scorching march into the tombstone— eyes like oceans, salt pouring from flesh. Today, we remember the cross, 300 pounds heavy, bent and dipped into his head. How he slipped and swayed, sandwiched in a crowd of tunes— // slaps // claps // shouts// “He healed the blind! He delivered many from afflictions! Now, why can’t he save himself by the power of Beelzebub?” Today, we remember how flayed and flaccid he fell, and none who drank from his cup of blessings offered a hand. This man, once worthy of a palm-carpeted floor, had become everyone’s criminal, a relic of death's penalty. Today, Jesus, we remember your heart shedding its veins, taking the piercings of the cross like a Lauren Daigle song. Today, we see that love is helplessness, not showiness, that it is sacrifice, not selfishness. You could have called down a million guillotines, instructed angels with swords, vanished from the sight of all who stood waiting for you to become good food for the grave. But what did you do? It is what we remember today: your throat baked, a leaf in autumn, hammers pumping nails like blood into your flesh, blood pouring unto blood. Today, we remember like Kumba and Ngarbuh, Yes… we remember!

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Today, We Remember

Today, we remember the long, scorching march into the tombstone— eyes like oceans, salt pouring from flesh. Today, we remember the cross, 300 pounds heavy, bent and dipped into his head. How he slipped and swayed, sandwiched in a crowd of tunes— // slaps // claps // shouts// “He healed the blind! He delivered many from afflictions! Now, why can’t he save himself by the power of Beelzebub?” Today, we remember how flayed and flaccid he fell, and none who drank from his cup of blessings offered a hand. This man, once worthy of a palm-carpeted floor, had become everyone’s criminal, a relic of death's penalty. Today, Jesus, we remember your heart shedding its veins, taking the piercings of the cross like a Lauren Daigle song. Today, we see that love is helplessness, not showiness, that it is sacrifice, not selfishness. You could have called down a million guillotines, instructed angels with swords, vanished from the sight of all who stood waiting for you to become good food for the grave. But what did you do? It is what we remember today: your throat baked, a leaf in autumn, hammers pumping nails like blood into your flesh, blood pouring unto blood. Today, we remember like Kumba and Ngarbuh, Yes… we remember!