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.

Unheard Sound
I intensely listened assuming the volume was down. I loudly heard audibly an unheard sound. The sound wasn't heard by everyone situated in the room. only preset to those who were predisposed to be groomed.
By Ruth Durham5 years ago in Poets
that the angels are true love
the monkeys were fun toys capering hairy testicled grinners the watchers still watch said Fatima we need to lose some of these mutant hybrids
By susan marie loehe5 years ago in Poets
Milk Tea
The milk always goes in first... No, you always put the tea first! What difference does it make? All the difference in the world!
By Chloe Gilholy5 years ago in Poets
Daddy's Princess
There is nothing more heartfelt than the kindness of a perfect gentleman, to spoil you with love, hugs and big strong arms ready to extend, the type of gentleman that says excuse me as he rips the buttons off my top, delicately lifting me onto the sink rising my skirt, using his mouth swirled around with his tongue on my nipples to make the sound pop.
By Calligraphee5 years ago in Poets
Gold Peak
I think he does it on purpose.... Walking around the house with those boxers shorts fitting in all the right places just for my eyes to see.
By Calligraphee5 years ago in Poets
Other words
I have something, blocked inside of me, I feel like near, to fall down, as the pain grows by. My head feels full,
By The Mager5 years ago in Poets
Summer Fruits
There’s been a murder Somebody’s got a gun She’s still on the loose Something tells me that the cops Aren’t going to get much sleep tonight
By Chloe Gilholy5 years ago in Poets
Jasmine Tea
Jasmine is brave and loyal. She guards us from bad bacteria. She fights to prevent diabetes. She brings cholesterol to the ground.
By Chloe Gilholy5 years ago in Poets
White Tea
Snow buds haunt through spring After spring petals perished Silver needle through her death at a Southeast province Swirling mist in the raven cup
By Chloe Gilholy5 years ago in Poets
Transmission
It’s rare for the devil to be on one shoulder and the angel on the other, Normally i’m going back and forth with Satan and the Devil,
By Goddess Cuervo5 years ago in Poets
Healing a wounded heart
When you have encountered and not reciprocated the love that you give. The coldness you are met with does not mean you are not worthy of love, it just means they are not worthy of you. And it does not mean you need to turn your heart cold, it is how inclinations to partnerships that are more of attachments versus connections begin, because the connections remind you of that past hurt. It is almost a self defense or self sabotage mechanism to avoid being connected with someone because that results in vulnerability, which has been associated with past hurt.
By EnspiredbyEden5 years ago in Poets
Timing
showcasing one’s stride carefree glide thoughtful in demeanor a flowers view of pride elegant romance caught in a mystic trance
By Riddle5 years ago in Poets