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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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I woke with blood in my mouth and no memory of the scab that sealed the rasure. I’m cat-spitting dog-growling peregrine-divebombing rooster-flogging badger-flipping hornet-stinging wolverine-ripping mad. I fired the sun for showing up late cursed the fridge light until yogurt soured in terror. God called I let it ring twice. The therapist said breathe so I swallowed my tongue now I speak in the language of things with canines. coyote-howl syntax vulture-vowel decay the guttural grammar of vertebrae picked clean in a fox-den. Even the dog forgets how to wag around me. I tore my anger management book in half made paper fangs bit myself felt nothing but pulp and fury. I’m honey-badger-flipping-trashcans mad rip-the-wires-from-the-wall bite-the-mailman howl-at-the-blender mad. I hiss like a cobra in traffic snort like a bull in a china shop with barbed wire tangled on its horns. Snarl like a raccoon in a dumpster brawl— with nothing to lose and rabies to prove. I pricked the rusted prongs of the old pitchfork cold as polar nights and sharper than razors a blister popped now filled with barnyard muck. I opened a drawer found my childhood screaming— it wouldn’t stop, so I closed it. Then madness steps in tempts like belladonna disguised as balm. Come closer it’s not so bad licks the lesion with acid lingua a serpent’s hiss spewing rancor. and for a moment I almost believe the lie. But — feathers torn from my own pillow claw their way through the thick still air fury scratching at festering feasting fleas ripping drywall with claws I never knew I had nesting in the dark where rage was born. I swat at mosquitoes like rent collectors kick the couch like a mule call it catharsis as if drywall gives a damn. laugh because if you don’t madness might devour you whole. The mirror cowers I punch it mid-sentence carve NO in the fog with a cracked fingernail laugh like a rabid dog with no leash wild and untamed in a dead desert street. I’m not okay. I’m silk-rope-around-the-wrists-singing-a-lullaby mad don’t-make-eye-contact mad yellow-jackets-in-a-mailbox mad forgot the prenups mad. I’m the kind of mad that hands you a thimble and says Dig. I cracked the drawer again the screams were louder— drowning out the child I slammed it shut.— ——— “I think the fire’s out now— but the smoke still screams.” The therapist sits— stunned, afraid to speak. I lean forward, Smile split like a jackal’s grin, fresh from the kill, say, “Do you want to hear what the rage said back?” Then I reach into my pocket, pull out the thimble, place it gently on the table— still warm.

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Born to Rage

I woke with blood in my mouth and no memory of the scab that sealed the rasure. I’m cat-spitting dog-growling peregrine-divebombing rooster-flogging badger-flipping hornet-stinging wolverine-ripping mad. I fired the sun for showing up late cursed the fridge light until yogurt soured in terror. God called I let it ring twice. The therapist said breathe so I swallowed my tongue now I speak in the language of things with canines. coyote-howl syntax vulture-vowel decay the guttural grammar of vertebrae picked clean in a fox-den. Even the dog forgets how to wag around me. I tore my anger management book in half made paper fangs bit myself felt nothing but pulp and fury. I’m honey-badger-flipping-trashcans mad rip-the-wires-from-the-wall bite-the-mailman howl-at-the-blender mad. I hiss like a cobra in traffic snort like a bull in a china shop with barbed wire tangled on its horns. Snarl like a raccoon in a dumpster brawl— with nothing to lose and rabies to prove. I pricked the rusted prongs of the old pitchfork cold as polar nights and sharper than razors a blister popped now filled with barnyard muck. I opened a drawer found my childhood screaming— it wouldn’t stop, so I closed it. Then madness steps in tempts like belladonna disguised as balm. Come closer it’s not so bad licks the lesion with acid lingua a serpent’s hiss spewing rancor. and for a moment I almost believe the lie. But — feathers torn from my own pillow claw their way through the thick still air fury scratching at festering feasting fleas ripping drywall with claws I never knew I had nesting in the dark where rage was born. I swat at mosquitoes like rent collectors kick the couch like a mule call it catharsis as if drywall gives a damn. laugh because if you don’t madness might devour you whole. The mirror cowers I punch it mid-sentence carve NO in the fog with a cracked fingernail laugh like a rabid dog with no leash wild and untamed in a dead desert street. I’m not okay. I’m silk-rope-around-the-wrists-singing-a-lullaby mad don’t-make-eye-contact mad yellow-jackets-in-a-mailbox mad forgot the prenups mad. I’m the kind of mad that hands you a thimble and says Dig. I cracked the drawer again the screams were louder— drowning out the child I slammed it shut.— ——— “I think the fire’s out now— but the smoke still screams.” The therapist sits— stunned, afraid to speak. I lean forward, Smile split like a jackal’s grin, fresh from the kill, say, “Do you want to hear what the rage said back?” Then I reach into my pocket, pull out the thimble, place it gently on the table— still warm.