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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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All the good in me unlaced I pull what I own across the floor, books devoured to the spine, impressions the knees of my jeans have made of kneeling, my ghosts of ghosts, the saint who is namesake. I lay it out. A turtle can lay one hundred thirty-seven eggs in the hollows of trash-filled beaches and pray her young into the foam and I know how she judges her almost-gone with the shell’s first clean fracture, and how much she holds when she owns nothing and watches it race away. I line it up for you, lay it down, armfuls, fistfuls, incalculable catalogues of rinsed fingerprints released, as they are back-breaking, as this convex shell is enough, as the body becomes the loudest resonating home where I deadlock roomfuls of possessions, where my valuables belong so unbearably to me that they are not mine. And because I want to float I lay them down, the swatches of fabric, the memories of places I swore I had owned so wholly I felt them through to the relics, laid down, the hopes I hold for the ones I’d kill to own who swim between combs of aimless currents, of whom I am no owner, of what I am no mother I lay them out for you. And as the sea holds each embryo to the memory of one original shell, I am unforgivably enamored with the ownership of all.

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Just a Simple Way

All the good in me unlaced I pull what I own across the floor, books devoured to the spine, impressions the knees of my jeans have made of kneeling, my ghosts of ghosts, the saint who is namesake. I lay it out. A turtle can lay one hundred thirty-seven eggs in the hollows of trash-filled beaches and pray her young into the foam and I know how she judges her almost-gone with the shell’s first clean fracture, and how much she holds when she owns nothing and watches it race away. I line it up for you, lay it down, armfuls, fistfuls, incalculable catalogues of rinsed fingerprints released, as they are back-breaking, as this convex shell is enough, as the body becomes the loudest resonating home where I deadlock roomfuls of possessions, where my valuables belong so unbearably to me that they are not mine. And because I want to float I lay them down, the swatches of fabric, the memories of places I swore I had owned so wholly I felt them through to the relics, laid down, the hopes I hold for the ones I’d kill to own who swim between combs of aimless currents, of whom I am no owner, of what I am no mother I lay them out for you. And as the sea holds each embryo to the memory of one original shell, I am unforgivably enamored with the ownership of all.