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.

Academic Interpretation Of The Number 15 Seed
They said we did not have a chance We would be off the floor no longer in the big dance Placed number fifteen What is that supposed to mean?
By Marc OBrien5 years ago in Poets
Someone is walking
Walk on the rut, whose feet are weak and defeated, we who love such uncreated sects made by our journey Witness the yellow bamboo clumps standing in the way
By Priyabrataa Ganguly5 years ago in Poets
Alternate Universe
Focusing on good times, not neccessary on bad occasions No real friends existed, The make-believe ones suit me well enough to enjoy my childhood days
By Paris Diggory5 years ago in Poets
Oh, To Win ...
Oh, to win … something, anything It would be so wonderful, so cool, so AMAZING! Oh, to win … at the lottery, from a scratchy
By Whimsical Wanderer 5 years ago in Poets
American Root
I see them. the earth wet with bloodstains. the bent tree, shamed. the Cherokee rose screaming, no pleading, for remembrance
By Marilyn Mortician5 years ago in Poets
Time is Now
we have all been guaranteed a final breath, a last heartbeat. we don't know when, don't know where, we do know it is waiting.
By Moe Radosevich5 years ago in Poets
I Don't Know You
It always starts out the same, along with the same ending that keeps me doubting if I'm sane. My destination is unknown, yet I'm always on the same bus. A full cab and yet I see her amongst the overpopulated bus. My dear mother who passed so many years ago somehow is among us.
By Kayla LaFleur-Mosier5 years ago in Poets
You Can't Escape The Room
The way my people lived before Martin Luther King J.R rose with his message of peace and brotherhood during the Civil Rights Movement, was infuriating. Whites and “Colored” people were segregated. We were separate, but definitely not equal. Black people lived in fear, but somehow were the ones to be feared.
By Tonnetta Toliver5 years ago in Poets
Oh How I Frightened Thee
Oh how I frightened thee, unintentionally I was surprised how easily you took flight, I believed you to be stronger and tougher
By Colleen Millsteed 5 years ago in Poets
Poetic Dreams
Everyday blind unconscious cycling Forever restless, deserting change We realize the power of this incredible freedom When we let go
By Heatherly Wood5 years ago in Poets
Chinoiserie
there was a path– it was a fecund path, a fertile path– and it waited, receptive, for a seed to be planted in its red and loamy soil.
By Brijit Reed5 years ago in Poets
Nightmares
Nightmares sometimes in our sleeping hour. They awaken in us, fears of our subconscious seep into our peaceful sleep. The fear of him following me.
By Emily Radford(Rising Phoenix)5 years ago in Poets