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.

Pancake of my soul
Pancake of my soul I was hungry one day. Hungry for happiness to stay. So I decided to make a pancake, Out of everything that was left.
By Shivani Parekh3 years ago in Poets
🎵 The Rhapsody of Sensational Five Senses 🎶
Oh, the wonders of the human senses, 👀Sight, 👂sound, 👋touch, 👅taste, and 👃smell, each with its own defenses, 🌈Guarding the beauty of this world, spread out across the fields and the fences, 🌏From the highest mountain peaks to the deepest ocean trenches.
By Scribbler's Haven3 years ago in Poets
"Sensory Symphony: A Poetic Overture"
In the realm of senses, we come alive, Engaging in a poetic drive. Through descriptive language and emotive art, We transport readers, emotions impart.
By Manisha Kumari3 years ago in Poets
Slumber Surreal
Dancing upon my peripheral vision Fear is instilled like a surgeon's incision . Darkness . Reflected a sign of despair
By Tony Baca3 years ago in Poets
Scrumptious Cycle
I’m staring at a blank field. At the very top of this vertical journey is a jagged blue ladder creeping down. _____Drip. _________Drip.
By Jemma Jae3 years ago in Poets
Euphoric Discomfort
Specks of deformed and malnourished thoughts- Scour through months of sewage and debris- - And at 2:26 a.m. my concepts and feelings-
By Jada Ferguson3 years ago in Poets
A lost art
I'm mystified I found you, I'm deeply terrified too, Of the attention you brew, And your historic breakthrough, However I cannot part,
By Merritt Xavier3 years ago in Poets
Grand Central Terminal
Grand Central Terminal, You are a terminal, But also notable, For many lines quotable, My visit made me proud, As a tourist on a cloud,
By Merritt Xavier3 years ago in Poets
Dear couple in the back row
Dear couple in the back row, You look like there's something I should know, You look so happy, And it might sound sappy,
By Merritt Xavier3 years ago in Poets
Cry
Cry In the moonlight I'm sitting on my desk thinking about everything that broke me My glass is full but the whiskey does nothing
By Jean Bernard Dessources3 years ago in Poets
GET UP
It's noon. She opens her eyes; body still curled against the sinking mattress, clinging to the worn blankets like a lifeline.
By Amanda Starks3 years ago in Poets
Prison Rot
She looks vacantly through the glass lost and broken, empty and numb She glares at the sun blinded and aching, burning and hurt
By Amanda Starks3 years ago in Poets