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 Three lying deacons swim in a handbag - and a lone, celibate pastor paces longingly bemused. Michael, the Arc Angel, poses silently, in dusty Gabbana drag, cursing the lipstick-painted laymen writhing in rancid attar - naked and intentionally unused. Four wide-eyed boys dance on a daydream – kissing ripped posters of a white collared rapist. Saint Peter understands the jovial jokesters - the foolishness when blackened specks darken the void; the flurried flutter of his eyelids casts a tainted shadow upon a fractured sexual ballet. They continue to kiss below the waist. Three lying deacons and a pacing pastor resides – five lip-smacking nurses massaging your head. Four wide-eyed boys caress your knuckles as the well-trimmed priest pronounces a poorly scented infant: "anally dead." Seven cardinal sins slip and divide into 3 venial ratios. "Hi, Sonny"... Greed, lust and vanity are mortal crimes; Father Fragrantly Fresh... quietly proclaims: "snuggle a bit closer and sniff a hint of Genesis." Say I’m to blame and cause-count the afflictions – smaller undetected lumps hump the jaded addictions brain dead and haughty – the zombies circle and laugh! I wasn't born in a dark discarded Parisian tunnel but - can you Roman Polanski me, please? Kill the poet... and make him pay - below the waist. Crushed words embody a forgotten loner’s epitaph! (force him to stutter stupidly) and within a last breath - and within a last breath - and within a last breath - GOD... "the string-strangled puppet conventionally chokes - and quietly succumbs (to a textured landscape) of a youthful silenced dying... ...swaddled and swallowed in a heavenly - haloed chosen death..."
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