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.
The Element of Transformation
The first time I remember, I was floating. When the inevitable happened, there was a sudden rush and everything swooped downward. The float and all its peace were replaced with other things, some soft and some hard, all of them cold and exposed. The infinite comfort from before was gone; the messy reality replacing it got everywhere and I felt chills in places that normally don’t exist. I don’t remember much else, merely the overall feeling that I had arrived without knowing what had been agreed to. Once, it happened when my mother was in the kitchen making dinner. I wanted to know what was going on above me, to see where the fun bubbly noises were coming from; but then there was a scream and a crash and a strange odorless smoke that filled the air. Then came the pain that moved along with the hard pumping in my chest. It radiated from my arm like it was trying to bust out.I thought it would be there forever and though mother assured me it was only an accident, eventually what remained was a large blotchy mark that told me not to go into that room whenever I looked at it.
By Sarah Sackett6 years ago in Poets
Gone are the Hands
Gone are the Hands I walked out of the unit and down the hall, half of the speed of which I had walked in The normal chattering of the voices were no longer there, people visiting, their nods and smiles as they usually passed by now a ghostly image replaced by an eerie stillness that hovered in the silence.
By compassion246 years ago in Poets
