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.

My friend...
I have this friend, and she lives nearby. I met her one morning on her morning stroll. I was coming home from work. She greeted me kindly.
By Rambler's Society5 years ago in Poets
What’s In a Cloud
Silently sitting in the sky A million places passing by Through often several shades of grey, It’s never really gone away.
By Linnea Loree5 years ago in Poets
Lost in Night
Stand up and look out to the starry sky At the pearly moon shining white and blue There’s an escape somewhere out there, baby
By Caitlin5 years ago in Poets
The Little Blonde Replication
As we sat in Denton in waiting room, with my heart so full. My son was having a son what would his eyes be, blue? Your Dad was so excited, and I was feeling blessed, oh what would you be my little sweetness.
By Julia Jacobs5 years ago in Poets
Duality
There is sanctity in agony, Prudence in indecency, Deafening silence In desperate screams. Such duality is fate. Do we fight for what's ours,
By Willow Rakiah Creager 5 years ago in Poets
Boredom (shape into me)
What do you do when there’s nothing to occupy your time? Do you shake your feet on your bed? Do you slip into a bad habit?
By Tim Worton5 years ago in Poets
Flower Man
Caramel coffee skin scarred and stunning, Flower face sunny and cunning. Led to the mind's treasure map, questions gingerly unwrap.
By Rowan Finley 5 years ago in Poets
Sky Brown, Ocean Blue
Their friendship sailed on the high seas of adventurous hope. Foaming waves reared their heads in admiration and rhythmic affection.
By Rowan Finley 5 years ago in Poets
The Sanguine Book
The space between the text that shapes the differentiating stories of these lives, gone. . Some say the destruction is crazy.
By Poetry Landscapes5 years ago in Poets
Friends, I Love You
Most stages of our lives will see us surrounded and supported by friends. Different stages, different friends and if you are really lucky, you may have a friend or two that sticks with you through all the stages of your life.But on saying that, are your friends, real friends? Or are they just acquaintances? Will they stand by you through thick and thin or do they disappear when the going gets tough? Sadly I have always found that when the going gets tough, most of my friends, are really only acquaintances. I have been lucky though and I do have a few genuine friends. However, I can count these on the one hand. Still, I am extremely grateful for those few wonderful friends.
By Colleen Millsteed 5 years ago in Poets
Consistency is Death
Consistency is Death Redundancy, & Consistency; a slow death. Seeping into the spine, deteriorating the bones. Curve balls exist for a reason.
By Jayme Caroline Chapin5 years ago in Poets
A poem many can relate to.
Rivers come, rivers go, Streams to come, water to flow, Gaze right down the flowing stream, Grass on the side, there to dream,
By Jordan Zuniga5 years ago in Poets