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.

A Perspective of Truth
We live in the kind of world where no one wins. but we continue to place ourselves on top. This is our discerned reality. But no one bothers to read
By Lacy Walters8 years ago in Poets
I Stare at the Sun
I stare at the sun with my eyes wide closed Moving my hands Flayed out and fan-like Back and forth Across my lid-eclipsed field of vision
By Conjury8 years ago in Poets
Look Both Ways
Look both ways before you cross your heart and hope to tie Your shoes say, "You can’t dance if you don’t try." Just move your beat to the sheet of ice beneath your toes.
By Conjury8 years ago in Poets
A Weekend In Spider Country
I’m here Sitting by the lake If you can see me now What do I have to lose? If I wasn’t here it wouldn’t matter If I’m not here it wouldn’t change you
By A.R. Minhas8 years ago in Poets
Forgive Me
Father for I have sinned. It has been nine days since my last confession. I have been disturbed, by this blue eyed creature
By Chinonso Onukwugha8 years ago in Poets
Post Meridiem
What happened to the man by the ferris wheel? The one that took all the boys and girls to the Merry Go The one that played with the boys and girls on the Merry Go
By Chinonso Onukwugha8 years ago in Poets
The Mind Of A Stranger
Each and every one of our minds work in a unique way and is personal. This page is dedicated to introduce the reader to two perspectives when faced with one circumstance. The girl with the glass of wine is an immobile scene depicted by two different mindsets. It is for the reader to create a third one based on the two given below.
By Charlotte M.8 years ago in Poets
White Noise Insomnia
There's a soft buzzing coming from somewhere It could just be the fan Or it could be something else I bury my face into the pillow
By A. R. Ambrosi8 years ago in Poets
Peeled
Why must your knees touch floors of standard when you are oh so special? Here's a reason or two; you aren't any more or any less than the next floor.
By Naomie Malekera8 years ago in Poets
Celestial Dance
Sometimes I wake up in the night When I know I should be sleeping And somewhere in the distance I think I can hear music
By A. R. Ambrosi8 years ago in Poets
This Is a Poem
I suppose this is a poem or something But my thoughts won't stay in one place I try to organise and rationalise And marginalise
By A. R. Ambrosi8 years ago in Poets
Golden Sea
I wade through a sandy ocean, And each coarse grain I strike is the weight of a sea. My breath labors from my breast and my eyes
By Johnny O'Neill8 years ago in Poets