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.
Fade
A place in the past, and cast out of the circumstance from hell. To live like I do, in the happiest days of my life. And I’m beginning to fade. And, I ain’t got nothing to say, in the dark as the radio is on, it is bliss with nothing to say of blues, to laugh. To burn out or fade away, of brave confusion is the shadows towards the other side. To the straight I stand. Empty street with a sound of lightning, and the color of thunder is daytime, righteous. I stand exactly on this Earth. And to the right is my can because I know I can to see that from the dark end of the street, and a smoke has failed in the twilight zone, a view. In the air there is nothing there and to find me. Sky falls down one day. Let it fade down on me, let it rain. Her mean pride has my mind looking right as it points to the east of the street to be at ease. The trash man is coming where I fade on and on. Can you hear me knock’n to the bottom of the blues? Beg you to take me back, give me one more day please in this deep and dark despairing heart.
By Paul Noel Cimino6 years ago in Poets
