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.
Enter Title (Not Required)
Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I hear Miles in the electric bath, brewing a Brew, a hiss and hum of future notes unsung/ Hear the headhunters who chant the Body Electric, barcodes of the night/ Mercy, Mercy, me — that’s soul cookin’ after-hours, a midnight kitchen of ribes and white bread to wipe the hot sauce from your lips/ Rockin’ the nerves of the city, every night, every light/ Cookin’, relaxin’, workin’ up soul grits and eggs, flapjacks on the side, ya dig/ A breakfast sermon to the late shift, to the dreamers who don’t sleep till they’ve said what they mean/ Smack up, man, Art Pepper’s on the scent, hunting a buzz before show time/ Chrome sun on his horn, a matchbook stuck in his shoe/ His ghost trails through the alleyways of sound recordings that held Pepper's dreams/ California sun gave way to a cool-on-the-coast breeze, of sun dials and jazz by the sea/ Just ask Chet Backer, who blew a mirror of skies into a room that could grow wings/ Like jazz singers, blues singers, they all are — swing, swing, swingers/ Vibrations in the static, a thump thump in the bassline, a ring in the thing that clings/ Jazz licks and kicks, a heartbeat’s percussion, live at Montreux, then Newport, then now, man, like wow/ The stage is a river, improvisation its current, the crowd its reflection/ Somehow, the healing water is in the notes/Notes drift like gulls over a harbor of smoke and light, jazz crowds of sound reassembling every night/ History in a groove, tomorrow’s echo riding the pulse of yesterday’s bright light into the new jazz stars of today/ So hear the electric bath bubble, hear the groove breathe, hear the chorus of the night/ Where the West Coast sun mellowed into cool fog and then into a brass-tangled flight/ Let Miles braid the air with hunger, let Pepper snap a spark, let the crowd rise, let it glow/ In this spoken word, the music speaks us back to who we were — and who we might dare to be/
Enter Author Name (Not Required)