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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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By: Moji Agha -- June 24, 2016 -- Tucson, Arizona Last dusk at a small Tucson park, my 3-year-old dear friend, Rafi, insisted unhesitatingly on imitating, no, actually embodying, a baby dog. REALLY! As real is Trump's Presidential candidacy. It was as if he was saying this to Donald Trump: "HAY! You finally convinced me, to finally give up on being human. If humanity has been reduced to Trumpicity, I'd rather be civilized in the dog-eat-dog world." "Do you, the Trumpet of Ultimate Ignorance, understand the significance of my giving up on humanicity, at my adorably tender age? Do you even give a damn? I highly doubt it." O' and of course we all know how perfectly our fellow 3-year-old humans know the art of insisting; Much like Donald Trump knows how to perfect the art of insistent ass-ness. In the mean time, I insistently wonder why Rafi (who insisted on factually being leashed, and be physically walked, in part by myself--leash in hand) manifested so perfectly at yesterday's sunset an unbelievably adorable actually barking "doggie" that did not poop. Yupp! You heard it right! Rafi-the-cute-doggie did NOT poop! So again I wonder insistently, if his trans-species dog and pony show (I was the pony) was meant, at its profoundest level of canine contemplation, to symbolically show authentic poop-less solidarity with those evolved dogs (and ponies) who don't poop the world; perhaps to differentiate themselves from the words that insist on pouring out of Donald Trump's ass-imitating mouth, further polluting our wounded Mother Earth. And no doubt, you see, Rafi and I have persistently no doubt, on these Trumpian days of sickening surreality, that our Mother Earth must be insistently asking herself agonizing existential questions like these: "O' my God: How the hell did I end up giving birth to an insistently white, yet persistently steamy pile of , like Donald? How did this orange-hued artificially hairy tragedy happen? Whose fault is it? And alas: How should this grotesque Trumpesque pollution be cleansed, wherein the narcissistic and the exhibitionistic asshole are of the same socio-psychotic DNA?" O' my God: How on Earth can THIS kind of ass be wiped? Hoping for some answers (before it's too late), will our civilizing 3-year-old Rafi, now a proud poop-less citizen of the dog-eat-dog world, come back as some kind of a Doggie Super-Hero to rescue humanity, making our Mother Earth "GREAT AGAIN?"

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Trump: Persistently Steamy Poetry

By: Moji Agha -- June 24, 2016 -- Tucson, Arizona Last dusk at a small Tucson park, my 3-year-old dear friend, Rafi, insisted unhesitatingly on imitating, no, actually embodying, a baby dog. REALLY! As real is Trump's Presidential candidacy. It was as if he was saying this to Donald Trump: "HAY! You finally convinced me, to finally give up on being human. If humanity has been reduced to Trumpicity, I'd rather be civilized in the dog-eat-dog world." "Do you, the Trumpet of Ultimate Ignorance, understand the significance of my giving up on humanicity, at my adorably tender age? Do you even give a damn? I highly doubt it." O' and of course we all know how perfectly our fellow 3-year-old humans know the art of insisting; Much like Donald Trump knows how to perfect the art of insistent ass-ness. In the mean time, I insistently wonder why Rafi (who insisted on factually being leashed, and be physically walked, in part by myself--leash in hand) manifested so perfectly at yesterday's sunset an unbelievably adorable actually barking "doggie" that did not poop. Yupp! You heard it right! Rafi-the-cute-doggie did NOT poop! So again I wonder insistently, if his trans-species dog and pony show (I was the pony) was meant, at its profoundest level of canine contemplation, to symbolically show authentic poop-less solidarity with those evolved dogs (and ponies) who don't poop the world; perhaps to differentiate themselves from the words that insist on pouring out of Donald Trump's ass-imitating mouth, further polluting our wounded Mother Earth. And no doubt, you see, Rafi and I have persistently no doubt, on these Trumpian days of sickening surreality, that our Mother Earth must be insistently asking herself agonizing existential questions like these: "O' my God: How the hell did I end up giving birth to an insistently white, yet persistently steamy pile of , like Donald? How did this orange-hued artificially hairy tragedy happen? Whose fault is it? And alas: How should this grotesque Trumpesque pollution be cleansed, wherein the narcissistic and the exhibitionistic asshole are of the same socio-psychotic DNA?" O' my God: How on Earth can THIS kind of ass be wiped? Hoping for some answers (before it's too late), will our civilizing 3-year-old Rafi, now a proud poop-less citizen of the dog-eat-dog world, come back as some kind of a Doggie Super-Hero to rescue humanity, making our Mother Earth "GREAT AGAIN?"