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.

Cool Cat
Cool cat, cute, cuddly Curiosity can cause confusion, Cat can create cataclysmic calamity, Causing clear conclusion.
By Kylecovey Smith4 years ago in Poets
Exemplary Epithets
Exemplary epithets embody egos. Ergo, everyone explains each eddy ending eons. Each eve, elms echo earthed earwitnesses, Ensconced ecologies endlessly emerging.
By Jen Chichester4 years ago in Poets
Amazing Apple
Amazing apple arrangement, Astonishingly appetizing and alluring, Aromatic aroma, artfully assembled, Aptly adorned, a work of art, Admired by all who approach.
By Arivu4 years ago in Poets
The Unspoken Love: Echoes in the Night
In the stillness of the night, I pondered about you... Awakening to the dawn, I found you nowhere in view... Beside the river I linger, on stones worn smooth,
By Carl Goff4 years ago in Poets
Concentrate
Cinders collapse cerebrally, Creating concentric circles. Civil content, Cultivates capped charcoal. Changes cease, Correspondingly calm,
By Rachael MacDonald4 years ago in Poets
Wordpressed
Who would? Who would wage wars of wit? Wield words as weighted weapons? Wizards? Witches? Warlocks? --Withdrawn! Wordsmiths!
By Tinka Boudit She/Her4 years ago in Poets
Sleep Stories. Top Story - March 2023.
Sleep summons strange stories. Sailors sailing sand seas, Searching, singing, scavenging. Seeking sacred stones, Scarcely seen.
By Meg4 years ago in Poets
STRANGE DOG WITH POWERS
Once upon a time, in a small town nestled deep in the mountains, there was a strange dog. No one knew where he came from or who his owner was, but the townspeople quickly learned that this dog was unlike any other they had ever seen before.
By wispo uganja4 years ago in Poets
accidentally on purpose
the problem is the shower curtain. it’s defective. it bellows inward toward the running shower. it has phosphorescent pockets that fill with water. it thieves moonlight and toothpaste. it put the bicycle out to rust in the rain. the bicycle was a red convent, an echidna wrapped in a towel. it waited for the storm to pass.
By Stevi-Lee Alver4 years ago in Poets
Scarlet Letter
But love looks kind of like hate, looks kind of like nobody’s better. When I come to my senses, I always come too late until I feel the pressure.
By Desmond Razzano4 years ago in Poets
Lecturing Like Lunatics
Listen; liberationists, lexicologists, linguists literate legislature lacks lenity Limiting livable liberties letting livid localized lawlessness linger
By B4 years ago in Poets
"Crunchy Cornflakes: A Classic Cereal for Breakfast Bliss"
Crunchy, crispy cornflakes, Crackling, crunching with each bite we take. Caramel-colored, crispy, and delicious, Crowning the breakfast bowl, oh so nutritious.
By Manjit@6400..4 years ago in Poets