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.

Rising With The Sun
Two cups for me and you True...words don’t delegate what your actions do The stars in our hands, what goes before, comes anew
By ABJ5 years ago in Poets
Dying On The Moon
A breath of fresh air was once clean. The sun starred in awe as it danced in the darkness. I danced with it. Every position made possible was swept away. I knew time wasn’t relevant anymore. With time comes agony, and with agony comes the rotting emotions I tend to keep still knowing it’s wrong. You’re right. Baked by beauty, with passion as the main ingredient, I assure you, I read the instructions well. The stars align perfectly so that I may follow in your footsteps. I glide along the distant ground as if I am not bound by the world. Your world. You brought this upon us. You made me this way. I keep focus on the true and the persistent. Distance, yet I still feel you. A burning ball of compassion and shelter, I favor you over anything. The moon knows me well.
By ABJ5 years ago in Poets
Be?
Be. Who am I? Who is me? Do I follow them, do I be the stereotypical version of what is perceived to be me. Not the person I know is me...
By Jacquez Hardy5 years ago in Poets
M, W or Both?
Do you miss understanding? Or are you still misunderstanding, that the lack of understanding is simply our hearts demanding,
By N.tti5 years ago in Poets
My Intent
SPACE-MARKS Date 1/4/2021 Time 1:29 PM Location Reseda, CA ETERNAL WORDS My Intent NEVER, t(W)o : Hurt or Harm ;
By Marcus Romano5 years ago in Poets
Contemplation on Everything and Myself
Learning how you feel when you think about Dying Investing in yourself is hard when you stop Trying Perspectives change as we get
By Christian Koller5 years ago in Poets
Arizona air
Arizona air opens your lungs in a way you don’t know is possible when all you’ve known is East of the Mississippi. The lack of humidity - of
By S. C. Ash5 years ago in Poets
The Death of a Celestial
The solar system that is one's being , can be seen as nothing but the empty wake of their hidden cries. "Constellations on your cheeks..stardust in your veins..the galaxy in your eyes.."
By Abigail Asante5 years ago in Poets
AHEAD OF MYSELF
1/4/2021 Anxiety at my door, Who's that person? I must have seen them before... Lurking in the dark corridors of my mind...
By Yela 5 years ago in Poets
Aetate Electrica.
You can always count on me to bring the dystopian vision of the future to my first poem of 2021. In Latin “Aetate Electrica” means “Electric Age”. I think this would be the best way to describe this poem. We have come pretty far, in a relatively short period of time, and still have a long way ahead. Just have to make sure not to make the same mistakes that doomed human societies in the past.
By Vladimir Fischer5 years ago in Poets
Death's Cadence
The first flower, That e'er I saw, Was that of a lily fair, The flower I saw so pale, Under the light O' the moon. The moon it shone o'er,
By Brianna Wrigley5 years ago in Poets
Blue Moon
WE align like galaxies colliding you and I. In an explosion of chaotic inevitably. I love to feel the glow of your planetary eyes as you look at the camera.
By Star Soulcodes5 years ago in Poets