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.
This is the End
The day the apples fell, shaken from low boughs to hurl against the brick wall. We were there in our vests, holding hands, or not, talking about how the world is probably going to end in the next seven years. How we'd break into a hospital and steal hydromorphone and inject each other while watching the sun set, maybe rise, on the Pacific. I shook like the apples but you touched my neck and said you'd be right there with me, and maybe we'd find each other again somewhere else.
By Callen Law8 years ago in Poets
Alone on the West
We bow down to the death of these fine shoresOur generation in search of an aptitude so pureLost for direction and tied in the stateWith hope as a burden not to hold but berateThe love in this epoch will leave us coldNihilism a path to walk whilst sentiment scoldsWe are the lost generation with crippled pride for the crestEvery morning we yearn for reason when we are alone on the west
By Neal Sawyer8 years ago in Poets
Harlot
Venom of a harlot strikes all those who lay with her, hypnotizing fools so they worship her. Give her jewelry and all she needs, she plays the perfect role. She thinks out loud as she devours souls of lustful beings. They'll do anything & everything from,
By B O R E D iN C H A Os8 years ago in Poets
