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 dreamed I was inside a bulb— a cathedral of filament and glass— not dead not born….. but shumming**. Glass walls curved like time sealed but translucent my fingers curled around voltage like a secret God was transcending. The socket hummed a lullaby of static. Every breath of mine made sparks the air electric with grief and longing. I saw myself outside the bulb in a room wallpapered with eyes— each iris twitching like a seismograph. They watched as I shimmered like an angel in a jar of fire as if I were proof of something too holy or too hideous to name. The room beyond glistened with wallpapered surveillance— each gaze a blink each blink a test of identity a hymn of entropy and wonder. I touched the glass— cool as frozen memory thin as a promise— and the world on the other side shuddered like a dream woken too soon My thoughts turned tungsten— spiraled stubborn resisting the spark of enlightenment or extinction I spoke and the words bent back like boomerangs buzzing with static regret A child approached barefoot real impossibly tender….. She looked like someone I might have loved if time had taken pity. She placed her palm on the bulb— her skin against my sorrow the warmth of it startling as mercy a forgiveness. “Why are you in there?” she asked or perhaps thought— her voice the color of candlelight. I tried to answer but my vocal cords was hardwired my tongue a fuse My words came back distorted looped charred as if language were combustible. For a moment I flickered between purpose and obliteration Then the ceiling cracked open like a wound and light poured down— not to reveal like revelation like judgment— to burn away the questions And I understood— not everything illuminated is meant to be seen not all vision is freedom….. Some truths are meant to flicker fragile and holy inside the bulb of the soul unspoken unchosen alive. ================ **Shumming: Shimmering Humming
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