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 Vain in Virtue
This contract discloses my final moments. What is a world, with turmoil furnished by the edicts of man? Their temerity to uphold such a corrupt cause, and still find the words to say all is blessed and exhume a hope for peace that is past its six-foot internment. I find nothing but fault in the “perfections” of law, I feel nothing but a wave of somber in the artificial faces of joyous reunion. For you all are blind to the reality of your being; The feeling of freedom is laconic, yet you riddle words to find the socket to the secrets of life where there be no key; Instead of just let it be, you tamper, with no rhyme or reason to your sound, only austere aggression in its’ melody as you kick those doors down. Now, you stare blindly in the face of madness governed by crosses, stars, and bleeding hearts, the symbol of mans’ primal infidelity; To rake over the pining, with false promises, accompanied by the stabbing of your virulent, theistic hypnosis; Thus you have created an army, you have made many in the image of that which forbid you from it; Beguiling thousands into something ephemeron. Look at the world before you, you are what you create; You fear hell but you’ve made disciples out of pawns that will spread sickness and it shall repeat over and over again; Hell is repetition, and it is something you have created beneath your feet, so let them be swept by the speaking-mirror I hold before your court. For time to make change, it first needs to be reset ; Lead those people to the river of Lethe, and let them forget. I decamp from this earth, on which you all have become a cist, I worry no longer, for my life here will not persist.
By Andrew Dearborn8 years ago in Poets
Faith Be Changed
The lady Esther had just laid the children to sleep. As she gathers her thoughts of what the Lord may be doing, she walks the hall that leads to his bedchamber. She rounds the corner and cannot believe what she sees. Her legs felt like iron. She tried to speak, but her voice was as quiet as a mouse. It did not seem to catch their attention, for they were lost in each other's eyes. The candle light in the hall was enough to see one another well, for they seemed as if they were in love. She finally manages to move a little. The stone beneath her foot made a sound that made them both turn their heads and see her standing there. He was stunned to see her stand there. He wonders how much she has seen of the two. She felt betrayed by the one she called her friend, lover, husband, and the father of their children. He tried to reach her, but she stepped out of his reach for she was able to move her body and run back the way she came. Tears run down her face as she tries to get back to her room, but she is suddenly stopped by a figure who is standing in front of her, holding his hand out. She hears a voice speak to her, but his lips do not move. "Come with me, for you will be in no more pain, no more sadness. But utter happiness." She moves slowly, reaching her hand to his. Than someone behind her says, "my Lady get away from him!" She turns fast and sees Captain a few steps behind her: running to her, trying to reach her. But is not fast enough, for he wrapped himself around her, drawing her close to him. With the sound of cracking thunder outside shining bright in the window next to them, the Lady and man were gone. Where did they go?
By Natasha Curtis8 years ago in Poets
