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.
MONDAY
Monday morning had arrived, the start of another week in eternity. Stepping out the door, what seemed to be flurrying snow, turned out to be a blizzard of falling feathers. As the tribes were making their way into providence, they all began to look up and marvel at the gift the heavens had bestowed upon them. Heads were high, hands were even higher, dancing and chanting exploded in rapturous merriment! Feet jumping and pirouetting beneath every ecstatic enchanted spirit. The feathers stopped. The people stopped. Underneath my umbrella, “Another Monday morning in eternity,” thought I. As I made my way down the feather-covered lane, breathing in big belly breaths of disenchanted sobs, “Today, is a great day to be alive,” thought I.
By James Green5 years ago in Poets
