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.
The Graft
Alas, the pain was too great! The dull ache in my bones never ceased, pulsating sickly. The clock mounted on the wall ticked, further aggravating my nerves.
Haggar BenPublished 6 months ago in PoetsWe can't let the robots write all the poems
We can’t let the robots write all the poems. What was I saying just one minute ago? — Oh, yes. I don’t want reincarnation to be real
Ashe LawsonPublished 6 months ago in PoetsSlippery Slope
Your poise seductive Demeanor rehearsed From the moment I saw you My life was cursed * Still I couldn’t resist
Rick BeneteauPublished 6 months ago in Poetslonely ship
No, this is not just words. This is a whirlwind of emotions. A hurricane of fears and doubts That engulfs a young woman in its relentless vortex.
cuenta principalPublished 6 months ago in PoetsMeowing at the Moon
R.I.P. Simon, you'll always be in my heart. I These cats lived together in a house on a shore They were raised by me and they were just so young
Happiness Can Hurt
What no one told me when I started healing is that happiness can hurt and a bitter heart is terribly familiar.
Sam Eliza GreenPublished 6 months ago in PoetsIrreparable
Shivers climbing up my spine mingling self-doubt with regret Taking back what once was mine using my best tricks to forget
Kelli Sheckler-AmsdenPublished 6 months ago in PoetsSilent waves
Fine lines so burnished, it blurs into the image the two become one, with no effort, at all No words are needed, can't be contained in a language
Kelli Sheckler-AmsdenPublished 6 months ago in PoetsBullets of art
-Art is a delicate entity. One simply doesn't wake up and come up with the best art. -Art is not a habit or a routine one can conform to.Art is simply art. Nothing satisfyingly defines it better.
Eastern TwelvePublished 6 months ago in PoetsThe Illusion Of Smooth
Puddles of glass Mirror like, Line my driveway Potholes Deeply, dappled Like connect the dots I sway and I swerve
Kelli Sheckler-AmsdenPublished 6 months ago in Poetson that side: 2
It just never really made sense to me. I'm just going to do my time and when I get out I'm going to do what I feel is best for me. Because at the end of the day, it's my life. As much as I would love the support, it would not be the end of the world if they weren't on my side all the way throughout my journey. My art teacher is one of my biggest inspirations she always encourages me to bring out my creative side. She believed I could get the job done even when I don't think I can.
andor rosenPublished 6 months ago in PoetsRegrets
3 February, 2022, night Regrets Crowded days Lonely nights I wish you were by my side *** Stroke of night Hold me tight