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.

Nature: Check It Out
Water is flowing as the forest is growing, finding comfort in the thought of knowing. Knowing the beauties that are hidden within the sand, the water, the snow, and the dirt, the rock, the mud, and all things on this earth.
By Dylan 4 years ago in Poets
Strip Yourself Away.
Strip yourself away. We're only human, so they say. But who are they, and who am I? Humans. Skin and bones and souls to go along.
By Dakota Wienges4 years ago in Poets
My true colours
I wore my black dress like a flake of night sky The city was brimming with colour Cars Adverts Traffic lights The office walls painted
By Jessie Wylder4 years ago in Poets
Had I dived?
You see, you feel it on the skin once things turn. It’s in the air. It touched me, head to toe, all at the same time. Up above and far away,
By Jessie Wylder4 years ago in Poets
Derealized State
Filtered grain inside my calloused brain I'm beaten to a strain in my eyes that will never go away Derealized contraband, reality killer serenade
By Patrick Santiago4 years ago in Poets
Relaxing Rain Tonight
A rainy morning in the Caribbean. Relaxing morning, soothing the beast inside. Uneasy life, relaxing day. As I lay here contemplating, why for?
By Emily Curry (Rising Phoenix)4 years ago in Poets
Sea of Painted Faces
Sailing on a sea of painted faces, Bailing water from my barely floating vessel, paddling desperately, Hoping my boat is more than the paper mache of which my own mask is fashioned.
By Holly Pheni4 years ago in Poets
Medium McBanter Meal
clutching old thoughts on a new afternoon scrambling cold noughts and the forthcoming soon tearing open old ideas casting humility aside
By Bren4 years ago in Poets
The Sweet Nothings of Inanimate Objects
Can Inanimate Objects Talk? The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines the word inanimate as "lacking consciousness or power of motion" or "not animated or lively".in short, they are not endowed with the human trait to talk to each other or even get influenced by other objects.
By Peeping_Soul4 years ago in Poets
~ Freedom ~ Poem from 1994 I wrote, originally for Generation X anthology!
~ Freedom ~ Let me say this –and say it so You all can hear – you all can know, Imagine if you will... You stand alone in a place where
By Jennifer Cooley4 years ago in Poets
Soul In Distress
The shadows of mist scatters blue light Slips into darkness shattering bright The wiles unseen within the abyss A feeling morose
By Katherine H Kate4 years ago in Poets
Maddening
I filled my day with rotten voices The melodies cast shadows on baited choices ...but mirrors pay tribute to cracked sights...
By Patrick Santiago4 years ago in Poets