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.

yes yes no no
should there be a we in yes yes no no no no yes yes putting time to the test 2020 should there be a care or a dare to care
By Christopher Robertsson5 years ago in Poets
Building a Fence
I wondered what my friend was doing He asked if I wanted to get drunk and write some poetry Normally I do it alone, figured it would be nice to have some company
By Marcus Romano5 years ago in Poets
Rebirth
No more hurt, no more pain No more lies, no more sins Been a monster in disguise Became a savage in person Been the mean one I despised
By Will Chancellor5 years ago in Poets
Killing Kingdom
Always fascinated by and called to existentialism in poetry and fiction, this piece hearkens back to the simplicity of such an influence. Mountains. An argument. A train roaring by. The majesty of the morning. All rise and converge, giving way to simplistic acceptance in the form of cyclical indifference. I hope Charles Bukowski would be proud; almost as much as I hope that you enjoy it.
By Matt Martin-Hall5 years ago in Poets
10.20.17, Paris
it stands to reason that one can find no fault in beginnings like Paris on a Friday night in late October an opener for the ages, i’m sure
By Amelia Beames5 years ago in Poets
My Mind's Prisoner
I am a prisoner of my own mind. Stuck in a limbo of thinking and never doing. Wanting so bad to escape but never dare try.
By Mary Finn5 years ago in Poets
A Dionysian Funeral
Huddled grazing at the feet of drunken Gods, imbibed by crimson blasphemes and the lust of lies. Smeared unto the grasses- a darkened hue.
By Matt Martin-Hall5 years ago in Poets
Trees
Months ago I filled out this ominous statement builder: “The trees are gone when you look away. Prepare, they’ll whisper you your fate.”
By Rose Rocket5 years ago in Poets
Me-ow !
I drank it down! That magic potion And burped: Meow! A girl She looked - right at me Said: "You are beau-ti-ful"
By Marcus Romano5 years ago in Poets
Questions too familiar to ask.
I wonder why the left wall is closer than the right? I wonder why there's blue and green and red, on second thought that's probably alright.
By Nicholas Powers5 years ago in Poets
The Witch Who's Black As Pitch
Oh foulest witch, you inspire so much spite. The way you cast hexes and love spells, Invading my mind day and through the night,
By Mary Farnstrom, The Unhinged Alaskan5 years ago in Poets
Across the street, at the house
I opened the gate to let my mom out and standing there, I looked across the street, at the house. Bathed in the night sky, it could barely be seen if not for the light.
By Blue Jane5 years ago in Poets