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.

What Now?
I don’t know where I stand. I know where I fall, when the strings of my thrall, push my knees to the sand; my weight impacts land
By Stiki Notes8 years ago in Poets
Comes With the Rain
It comes with the rain, It waits for your power to cut out. When it’s dark, and you scurry about. It follows you, step by step,
By Mark Swartz8 years ago in Poets
False Destruction
Friction builds underneath the soles, As you're forced to walk down a hallway filled with razor wire and shattered glass, The pain you'll endure will be immense.
By Ziggy MD8 years ago in Poets
75 Doors
I fill, I cannot effuse. I effuse, then I overbleast through the hollows. “Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war.”
By Ipek D.8 years ago in Poets
1,000 Beers
I awoke with a tear drop On my cheek, Focused on The violence you preach. I went to the train station Seeking golden carnations
By Christina Buczek8 years ago in Poets
Ascend
Ascend the many thousands of steps of swirling, maddening, winding staircase; forgotten spaces in the cracked grey brick walls, left with faces of horror—or greed—or of anger, or of desperate need.
By Chaffee Wood8 years ago in Poets
Tormented
Tormented by a wall of terrifying movement, It sat twirling Its head around in discomfort and insanity. Not for very long did It wait when the episode subsided and Its head retracted from the many places around him it had been. Its skin twitched and tightened, leaving Its mind in anguish. It counted out two, then quickly three little pills, which it took glancing in every direction. It avoided the senses of Its surrounding shadows, and the layers peeled from the walls in a moment where Its frozen body was turned away. Another episode was beginning again...
By Chaffee Wood8 years ago in Poets
Animal
The scream of a wild cougarCan be heard in the bedroomConcerning the neighbors andMaking quite the scene.Her body twitches and convulsesWith every touch of her master's hand,Awakening her every sense.Her sense of desire, her sense of need,Her craving for the unknown and uncommon.Her bloodthirsty cries fill the airAnd cover the bed with each squirmAs she begs and screams, her soul being nourished.The cougar, the wolf, the beasts residing insideAll become unleashed, rampaging her coreAs the claw of the dominant beast slowlyCarves its way softly over her supple flesh.Hair a mess, skin painted with lines ofRed indents and welts,She looks to her predator through dampened hairAnd smiles. Thanking him with her eyes.The inner beast growls and thirsts,No longer prey, but leading her own packOf mischief, erotica, and pain.Sweet, sweet pain.
By Jessica Snow8 years ago in Poets
The Cold
The wind blows soft whispers, in my ear. I hear the melody of the cold dawn approaching so close I shiver inwardly I take your soul in my hand and grasp it tightly
By savanna rae8 years ago in Poets
I Am Loose, Spinning
First there was Excalibur He remains firm Immovable by just a man like myself. But I wait for the day his hero comes - I know there is more for him and more for me.
By Braden C8 years ago in Poets
Above & Beyond
Above & Beyond, I look to the skies I look to the tides that roll inside of the waters And see that it paints a picture A vivid portrait of the beauty that
By savage writer8 years ago in Poets
Hold Your Breath
Thrown in without a vest, life truly is the ultimate test, they tell you you'll succeed, just do your best, you can be anything you wanna be, truth is improvisation is key, for the survival of you and me, like an endless game of chess, but you were taught checkers just like the rest, unprepared we feel depressed, lost in our programed emptiness, bishop to e3? You mean I jumped your piece so king me? Go to college and get a degree, then what? I don't know, but I thought education was key? It is, but only to a certain degree, just follow the wave to its crest, don't sink, and hold your breath.
By Christian Whitfield8 years ago in Poets