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.

Unnerving
Tonight dark and humid; I walk into bleak and black; Amidst the shadows I must be; For the signs are all there. I know it was stupid;
By Jessica Taylor5 years ago in Poets
vat of moon dust / reflections at 1am / light still shines at night
To be absorbed in to a vat of moon dust, and reflections with a dash of humor, following smoke signals, would be
By caylie hausman5 years ago in Poets
Telephone
History is just a game of telephone, you see Deep pockets with armies at the head seat Tell you what to remember and what to believe
By Brittany Ivy5 years ago in Poets
There’s Poetry Flowing Through Your Veins
11.1.20 There's poetry flowing it's been flowing for thousands of years It's just another name for universal energy The creator of creation
By Devon Heart Star5 years ago in Poets
Oh To Dream of Eating Peppermint Snowflakes
Oh, to dream of eating peppermint snowflakes While making snow angels; gazing up at the sky On a December afternoon as the flurries cascade
By Marilyn Glover5 years ago in Poets
The Audacity
Like the serpent that you are, you ever so smoothly slid into my world, charmed me at my weakest. Or did you in fact love and care for me then?... When did the venom start to take over and you could no longer control its persistent urge to poison every part of me? To consume me; you take over just enough of me so as not to overtake completely, leaving me exposed, alone, with only shallow breaths remaining...
By MeG5 years ago in Poets
The Woman I Was Hated Butterflies
Cheek sunk into the snow, a butterfly lands on the tip of her nose mocking. It tickles while her blood trickles and she succumbs to the ether.
By Rose Hutson5 years ago in Poets
ERA
ERA ------------------------- Fallen leaves it’s 2015 I’m an emotional wreck A broken spirit With hope on deck And when the last leaf fell
By Rebecca Robinson5 years ago in Poets
Chaos
The well ordered structure, the well oiled machine … To some a home, a sanctuary, a refuge, hearth and home, kith and kin. To some, the ideal not yet reached, always out of reach, but existing at least in some collective imagination, more real than reality.
By Wayne Harper5 years ago in Poets
Let Me Take You There
One day, you approached me and said, "Wouldn't it be better for you to wed?" I laughed and said that wasn't quite fair
By Mihaela Vasileva5 years ago in Poets
Was He There?
Have you ever felt as though you had reached the bottom? Like there were no way out? Every road led only to another dead end? Only to miraculously have a rope appear from out of nowhere or paths unwind before your very eyes?
By Karen Cummings5 years ago in Poets
Our Eyes See All
Our Eyes See All Through our eyes we see a world that is ever changing. We look on as the children play carelessly in the parks and fearfully on the streets. We see the joy in a new mother’s eyes and the pain in those of the homeless one as she searches desperately for food and shelter.
By Karen Cummings5 years ago in Poets