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.
Speeling Mitsakes ( A Vocal Poem)
Spelling Mistakes When I type, especially on my phone, spelling mistakes are made. While I know some are due to my fat fingers, others I am not too sure about. Autocorrect and Grammarly often often mess things up but most of the time they actually fix things so they're a good tool to have on this
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 5 years ago in Poets
Daisy May
I do not remember most things. I do not remember the words I said yesterday or the day before and I will not remember the words I say tomorrow. I do not remember the day my father left or my last day of high school. I do not remember if it was blistering hot or if the clouds provided relief but I like to imagine it was a beautiful day. Perfect weather for grave-digging and swallowing shards of glass. She could not suffer one day more with noxious organs weighing her down and I know the trees could feel my misery because I cracked my bones one by one and sat them at their roots. Take these, please. Take them for me. I do not need them. Please. I remember teeth through skin and needles injecting death into her bloodstream. This I remember. I watched him grab fistfuls of dirt and it may as well have been joy personified crushed between tendons and running through fingers as vermilion water— dare I say blood? She could not walk anymore, had endured many falls in her last weeks. I let her fall. Heard the whines and ran to see humiliation in a heap of black fur. Take her, please. Take her pain and take her body and show her the eternal fields of wheat. I cannot help her. The woman met us in sunlit grass and presented her tools and this is where the teeth come in— this is where joy is crushed and bones are ripped from my body. This is where I remember.
By Olivia Dodge5 years ago in Poets
E & M
Dear M, Today it felt like meeting you for the first time. The same person in a new light, still hitting you just right, as always. There isn't an environment where you wouldn’t be found beautiful. I wathced you as we danced around our truth holding on to the words that lay just behind our lips. I wish we could have sealed them with a kiss because I’d stay locked within your silence, just to remain in your presence, even if it means I say less about how I truly feel. I dream of the day that our love becomes real and I can say all of the things that have been bottled up since the day that I met you.
By Creating Akasha 5 years ago in Poets
E & M
Dear M, I felt you everywhere today, but couldn't find you. Only in my heart, in my mind, and out of the corner of my eye, but always out of sight. I wonder when we'll talk again, really talk. A conversation past eye contact that begs for my attention; perhaps crossing a line that I refuse to draw with you. Boundaries have neer been our strong suit, intertwined energies as soon as you enter the room. I have no plans for stopping you, decided the day that I met you that my heart was now a space for two. Even with the distance of wanting you, I feel close to you, knowing that you feel it too.
By Creating Akasha 5 years ago in Poets
