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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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LET THE DRUM SPEAK Go to heaven before the heavens goes to hell, Going home from home is dangerous with a child. To the cold virgin earth shall woven sleep be Taken out from the children' eyes early. Who shall guide the unkillable clarion of the drum? Who shall seize his voice when he begins talking? When he raise his voice, the women go naked. Let the drum speak in the public, Hold not his hand of forest trees His legs shall dance to the tone of His heart beat in the middle of the men. Let the drum speak and don't quanch his voice Let him speak of the unpaid salaries in the communities the bussh that was set on fire and the Vegetable killed. He is our voice, the talkative face of the drum Shall shut their eyes and mouth forever. Listen, my hurtful people of the eastern barns, We have been killed, without a sword. I once asked of pounded yam and given stone By the people who once danced with us in the Same field where troubles are stored for tomorrow feast. Now, I beat, dance, and sing along in the village square, they have treated me like a baby goat who Thinks he has come to free world. They have taken my yam and fish And gives me hard bread in return. In the season of my song have they disvirgined All the girls in my village. I asked for a wife and my In-law give me a husband Beater, now I dance alone. My in-laws have eaten tomorrow' yam today, This bread in my throat I must tie again; For life pains must be hidden for tomorrow' child. Do not look with stony eyes for my trouble is yet to come. Yesterday, reaching the market place, My hands abd head were aching and complaining. I went to the king' palace, the sun is a witness to my Coming and he smiled . I asked for bread but the king chased me away, The moon is witness to my leaving. Before the sun hears the first cock crows, I was in the square again singing the king' deeds. I go to the house of the man who has Many yams in his barn hoping to be welcomed, But they chased me away because I was poor. Poverty is honour to a man who has it whilst Riches is gold till those who come by it. I complain not but keeps dancing, hoping that One day I shall be gold and wisdom shall Not corrupt me in the barn of my enemy. They rejected me and I don't reject myself, I shall speak again with the same voice, Someday in the square of thousand men. Then shall I know not hunger which the king Refused to chase away in their time Then the politicians shall not come to my dwelling With their sugar coated tongue to deceeive me.

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Let the Drum Speak

LET THE DRUM SPEAK Go to heaven before the heavens goes to hell, Going home from home is dangerous with a child. To the cold virgin earth shall woven sleep be Taken out from the children' eyes early. Who shall guide the unkillable clarion of the drum? Who shall seize his voice when he begins talking? When he raise his voice, the women go naked. Let the drum speak in the public, Hold not his hand of forest trees His legs shall dance to the tone of His heart beat in the middle of the men. Let the drum speak and don't quanch his voice Let him speak of the unpaid salaries in the communities the bussh that was set on fire and the Vegetable killed. He is our voice, the talkative face of the drum Shall shut their eyes and mouth forever. Listen, my hurtful people of the eastern barns, We have been killed, without a sword. I once asked of pounded yam and given stone By the people who once danced with us in the Same field where troubles are stored for tomorrow feast. Now, I beat, dance, and sing along in the village square, they have treated me like a baby goat who Thinks he has come to free world. They have taken my yam and fish And gives me hard bread in return. In the season of my song have they disvirgined All the girls in my village. I asked for a wife and my In-law give me a husband Beater, now I dance alone. My in-laws have eaten tomorrow' yam today, This bread in my throat I must tie again; For life pains must be hidden for tomorrow' child. Do not look with stony eyes for my trouble is yet to come. Yesterday, reaching the market place, My hands abd head were aching and complaining. I went to the king' palace, the sun is a witness to my Coming and he smiled . I asked for bread but the king chased me away, The moon is witness to my leaving. Before the sun hears the first cock crows, I was in the square again singing the king' deeds. I go to the house of the man who has Many yams in his barn hoping to be welcomed, But they chased me away because I was poor. Poverty is honour to a man who has it whilst Riches is gold till those who come by it. I complain not but keeps dancing, hoping that One day I shall be gold and wisdom shall Not corrupt me in the barn of my enemy. They rejected me and I don't reject myself, I shall speak again with the same voice, Someday in the square of thousand men. Then shall I know not hunger which the king Refused to chase away in their time Then the politicians shall not come to my dwelling With their sugar coated tongue to deceeive me.