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.

Some Title That Has Meaning
Creation's curiously looking for fire Yearning for warmth from cold The feelings left them old They left them cold Contracted from disease
By Mr. Writerboi 968 years ago in Poets
Nine Lives in Love (Venus in Leo)
I had nine lives once... Before the seventh on the eighth Before I crushed it with a quarter On the surface of his old textbooks
By Jordan Paul8 years ago in Poets
Flames
A fire burns within me, these flames you cannot tame Anger is its feeding source now where to place the blame It's all consuming it's fierce and wicked and very very mean
By Pink Martinez8 years ago in Poets
My Morning Rose
Each velvet sunrise is decrepit and vanquished reflected by her, a swan’s sweetest song is a hollow shrieking pest. Wealth’s chosen few covet lustrous gold in her hair; it traces bright canyons, breaching shores to rest. Gentle streams glide through her every word, her footsteps are restful breeze in summer skies. Her laughter spills sugar kissing autumn leaves, caressing bliss nestled in her eyes.
By Benjamin Fredric8 years ago in Poets
Volun-tears
Who are you? What is this? True love's purest form? Please prove it With kiss. An ego comprised of dynamite but I will never blow your
By Michael avant8 years ago in Poets
The Patience of Death
Time defies the world unknown, A world defined by seeds unsown, With vengeance heart and grieving soul, Unbalanced life by dead men's toll,
By Mick Hemming8 years ago in Poets
Touching Ink
Drowning in ink. Writing,writing, writing. Drawing, drawing, drawing. Is every last drop a waste? How much is used day by day?
By KC Grim 9518 years ago in Poets
Symptoms
I plagiarized a giraffe. It was long overdue. Son, there are things you don't understand. Son, there are things you've yet done.
By R.M. Kamm8 years ago in Poets
Zombie Apocalypse Haiku – The Long Road to Ruin
1. Down a darkened road, Driving along not knowing The end was now there. 2. The streets were quiet And the parking lots were bare
By Mason Kanne8 years ago in Poets
Autophobia
Are you afraid of being alone? You will have to push through, because you are not on your own. You have a monster with you.
By Moe Bonaparte8 years ago in Poets
I Can't Feel the Walls
I am here, I am forever, My own muse and masterpiece, A nameless mute, As Abundant as the boneyards, But a poor grave,
By Ames Upward8 years ago in Poets
Realism, Claimed
why do i put myself in places i cannot hear right now im in the back of a car and its dark outside with rain and fog and dirt that shifts
By Alexa Green8 years ago in Poets