surreal poetry
Surrealist poetry embodies the essence of poetry itself, drawing upon shocking imagery and lyrical incongruities to comment on the inner-workings of the mind.
Letters
The day after the new moon we remembered to write on napkins and burn away the past. I wrote how a place can change in no time and both of them wrote how much we crave a definition of self inside the bounds of dim lights in a lower east side club— But we remembered nothing lives except in wisps of smoke, in ash and singe. We burned away those futures on the sidewalk, and the city whirred. It hasn’t even noticed yet, but we remembered and we hit our heels on the concrete. We make our own shapes.
By Joe Nasta | Seattle foodie poet5 years ago in Poets
Wakes
The leaves sounded like the waves beneath them, both roused by the breeze that induced the peace of the place. I had built it that way; kind and inviting. It was tranquil, for now. Though I was relaxing on the cliffside, I knew it would end. My paradise was too inviting. And as soon as I thought that conscious thought, I saw the first boat on the horizon. Its sails, tall and proud, were leading the fleet that was hidden behind their grandeur. A few more blinks and I witnessed the vast armies of the dawn conquer the skyline as they approached the shores of my kingdom.
By Chandler Olof5 years ago in Poets
