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.

Youth
Electrifying, lightning, on our way to forever land. Picking up the pieces as we command. We are here! The time is now! Life is a mystery unfolding before our very eyes.
By Lisa L Proffitt5 years ago in Poets
Haunted Halloween Day
Not a noise could be heard, This dark and eerie night, As the cold wind blew And knocked out all the light. The black streets filled with gusts of air,
By Mary Moon5 years ago in Poets
White Trash
How often did I feel like white trash growing up? I guess every time I was called white trash This one old woman used to inform me that
By J.D. Bradley5 years ago in Poets
End of It
we're all running at different speeds I've lost my energy disconnect from the synergy just feel the need to bleed and you couldn't see what I could be
By Sir Wiggles5 years ago in Poets
The Coming Storm
My heart is torn in pieces, By the truth of what I know and see. Left outside the circle, I stand here facing the reality.
By Phoenix Hart5 years ago in Poets
What If It Never Happened?
I wake to harsh lights and squeaky shoes It takes time to clear my mind and remember, They wheeled me back from the theatre
By Colleen Millsteed 5 years ago in Poets
A Vagabond Creed
Credo: 1. Seek the magic in all things from sunsets to streetlamps Streams to skyscrapers Even now within this world of stone and steel, magic seeps into the everyday
By Kit Olsen5 years ago in Poets
Break All the Rules
You are kindly asked that in lieu of flowers to do what is unexpected. Access your humanity without going through proper channels and preliminary emails.
By The Dani Writer5 years ago in Poets
Dear Universe
Dear Mr. Universe, Why oh why does it have to be this way? Please help me. Hear me out. I just want it all to end. I don't want to do this anymore.
By Jasmine Harris5 years ago in Poets
I Find A Rose
I find a rose, in the same color as yummy and chewy bubblegum. She's silently sitting in a red clay flower pot on the gray glitter rock.
By Talia Devora5 years ago in Poets
I'm getting in the way...
Trying to be perfect. I love a lot of things and I want to give them all 100% of my love. The only thing is I don’t have that much love, time, or money. Let’s not forget about staying motivated. It’s a weird love-hate relationship.
By Rambler's Society5 years ago in Poets
If money wasn't a concern...
Honestly, things wouldn’t necessarily be different. I would only be able to buy more things. Maybe I’d buy a house, but I’d still have my morning routine. I don’t need a fancier car. So what if I buy a nicer computer? I’d still be playing the same games.
By Rambler's Society5 years ago in Poets