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 Chapel
None of your friends will know what you did to deserve this curse. They’ll wonder, as they see you through the windows and gradually find they can no longer speak to you; they’ll wonder what such an apparently sweet soul could have done to earn such a fate.
By Lillie the Amazing8 years ago in Poets
Beneath Our Atmosphere
Beneath Our Atmosphere (haiku hour): I. Aether's Night Owl: Heavy wings flapping over the Earth's atmosphere; our Guardian seeks.
By Robyn Welborne8 years ago in Poets
The Puzzles of Life
The Puzzles of life hide the meaning of love Letters scattered on the floor A maze of words scrambled in the subconscious
By Mattie M.8 years ago in Poets
My Cigarette
Sitting in the loo With a cigarette between my fingers Inhaling nicotine And blowing it out in thin air I feel so relaxed.
By Sanah N8 years ago in Poets
The Metronome
We sat in front of each other. On the coffee table between us A metronome. The room full of rustic furniture Leather upholstery, you can smell the age.
By Bernard Aquilina8 years ago in Poets
Let Yourself Be
Bare your heart and soul Let us know what makes you whole Is it the words on that book Or, your lover in this room. Dance,
By Arlette Martinez8 years ago in Poets
Asleep Yet Wide Awake
My eyes are open yet my mind is asleep, Trapped in the chains of my thoughts that run so deep, I would be better off to just let it go,
By Jai Storm8 years ago in Poets
Be Silent
Keep silent, don’t wonder, Fear not, discover, Get lost, be found, Disappear, come home, The endless to and fro like the waves of the sea,
By Jai Storm8 years ago in Poets
Slipping Away
I hear the lake water swishing as the paddles caress its skin I lay back and I see the dark blue sky dimming before I close my eyes to listen to the soft blowing wind.
By Brittany Lyles8 years ago in Poets
Welcome Home
A twisted storm of shot and shell, wind and rain that ripped the ground, and bloody glowing blooms of red, warring and breeding with the sundered sky.
By D.C. Perry8 years ago in Poets
The Road, The Car & I
I died. I was hit by a car, the latest edition of Ford's B-max series. It was blue. The driver wore a black body warmer. This driver also wore a red cap that featured some sort of team. The driver's “partner” who sat next to the driver wore roughly the same. It could be presumed that they had come from some event.
By James Birkett8 years ago in Poets
Fairy Tales
While I was asleep and dreaming I awakened to some midnight screaming Although I’d pondered the thought of leaving Yet something turned me blue.
By Robyn Welborne8 years ago in Poets