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.
Lost Soul
The blood flows like a river after a thunderstorm, the rain washing it down stream. In the echo of thunder you hear the fallen’s screams as the sky's are filled with the lost dreams. My gun still smoking from the blazing bullets and my blade stained red from those now dead. Their last look forever burned in my head, they become the nightmares keeping me from bed. The sight of a knife cutting into one's throat at that moment you become the devil's pet, a goat drinking the blood as it spills. Most would turn ill while I stood there with and evil glare. A dark figure got stare, it was death himself whose path I dare not cross. He gave me a message that my soul will forever be lost.
By ElRey Niffen8 years ago in Poets
Evil's Defeat
I have spoken to the devil, I showed him I'm above his level. Something deep inside had been awoken in this pen I have the power. Told the devil to look me in the eyes like a man, no way I'll back down. I took a stand making him look like a clown. Took evil to the ground, demons all around. To my surprise help came from the skies as the devil's corpse lies. You'll read of this battle in books, it will tell all even of his heart I took. The angels had a worried look for the demons did not attack them, for they were within. Heaven was left in a rattle, evil was slain like cattle.
By ElRey Niffen8 years ago in Poets
I’m Stuck
I’m stuck, I can move but I’m stuck. Think about that for a second, say that line one more time. To be able to move but you're absolutely standing still. Your mind keeps running a fuckin' race but you can’t move so you stand still. Your eyes are watching the clouds as they move, hoping you move too. Your hair keeps flowing in the wind tryin' to show you, that you can dance along. But you stand in the same fuckin' spot trying to move along. Then suddenly, you transport to a different scenery. With people you know holding conversations that you can’t hold. You stand right beside a friend who you used to know. Standing still, you can move but can’t move. You're alive but can’t breathe, you're drowning and stuck below water watching the people above you laugh while you grieve. I’m stuck, I can move but I’m stuck. So I’ll just stand still.
By Jaslyn Irby8 years ago in Poets
