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.

With Nothing To Worry About, My Dream Home Would Look This.
If I had nothing to worry about, my dream home would look like this; I would opt for the countryside if the city center was accessible.
By Nkeonye Judith IZUKA5 years ago in Poets
Tapping
My silver spoon taps against that old, smudged porcelain cup. It’s a part of its morning routine. I made a friend today, clean as the white paint coating the walls,
By Jamería Blain5 years ago in Poets
the steak
I accept you. I use you. I appreciate you. I will keep that person away from you. Did I ask for food or ask for your faith. Did you make a faith statement? Separate than my needs? Do I rely on you. Do you rely on what I am devoted to and love? Do you hurt love. Do you rely on hurting love? Do you rely on me for your approval? Did you stop making sense and faith before I knew you? Are you essential? To me? A hooker hooked horn.
By Scott Horn5 years ago in Poets
a small town thing
In between a crackling fire and a breath of cold air, in between a deep breath and a clouded mind, there is more than you can imagine.
By queenofspades5 years ago in Poets
Misunderstood
So few that understand me, medication rules the day, and often it commands me; what to do and what to say... So few know the pain I hold
By Luke Haymons5 years ago in Poets
Where You May
Where you may sit a child, Upon his rightful place, Learning the culture of his creed, The cult of his faith, To be the image of his predecessors grace,
By S R Gurney5 years ago in Poets
Changes
Changes are par t of our existence. An existence that we ponder until our death. Changes are a part of reality. A reality that can range from stupendous to quite disappointing.
By Fatma M Robinson5 years ago in Poets
Oh, Diana My Beauty
A long time ago its was my daughter and me , Then I met you and two became five. My happiest of days was when you became my wife.
By Pamela Rivette5 years ago in Poets
Fallen Alien Girl
i can no longer keep it inside of me. you see. i’m always on the outside looking in. but i keep it bottled as it’s the only way i feel a part of anything.
By Fallen Alien Girl5 years ago in Poets
Midnight Admirer
A sad, uncertain someone Came to see me in my dreams. He said he comes here often; Sits and listens to my screams...
By Luke Haymons5 years ago in Poets
priceless or worthless
by the loose minded seeing blindsided is an asset sometimes priceless or worthless you decide what seat on the ride is your sailing tide
By susan marie loehe5 years ago in Poets
If I Grow Up...(7)
If I grow up I want to be a candle Sitting in the window reminding you That no matter how far into the dark and cold you wander
By Kaydie Paschall5 years ago in Poets