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.

Girl Bandaged
It’s the flirting with the madness in the darkness that’s her guide, An angel on her shoulder with the devil deep inside. Soon a thirst in her is craving,
By Tierney Monteith 5 years ago in Poets
Never Forget Charloma Drive
Not Always me, I know you can see. What a mess is she? A wit-lacking, lazy, open mind. Sometimes strange in peace and crying joy breached screams of cocky. Feelings low, our comfortable plateau. Remember a twinkle in her eye, life high on fresh free, so hungry. What do you perceive? Many merry; marry? Not she. Closing her eyes, a world spins by, too late, too busy with vanity. Delicately, piece by piece. place this mind-so puzzling-to your custom design. Down hill, spiraling through this negative fantasy, how can I be me? She's new, she's never blue around you. She's high, now why? Why?Why waste your time with...she's not me. Me? All kelly greens and sun shiny December smiles through crimson sighs. Don't question the significance of this street. She's beauty.
By Melissa Oros5 years ago in Poets
Unspoken Secrets
So alike we are. So alike we are, we say. We smile, staring, unmoving. And we say no more. Because we wonder, if maybe we are so alike,
By Elle Ware 5 years ago in Poets
As Desired
To make stories we transform words into worlds. Twisting constanents into continents. Thoughts are replaced by actions, as scabs heal and create scars; a mark of experience in the block of life we carve. Earth doesn’t care for the dead thats buried here. No, it’s the people that only do. For every lie is not barren of truth, merely constructed of half truths screaming from weak minds, and creatures sharp of tooth. Words rushed forth from your mouth like fog rising from a lake. Expressions of guilt as tired tongue cramps and pupils dilate. Life’s cycle now complete, a soul departs the dead. Lost in transition from mind, to hand, to pen. The warm familiar pulse dulls, the heart begins to retire. Yet, the ink bleeds through the page just as desired.
By Sam Mosley 5 years ago in Poets
Memories Done And Dusted. Top Story - September 2021.
Certain memories haunt me Causing me to re-live the pain, Heartbreak, sorrow and anger But there’s nothing left to gain.
By Colleen Millsteed 5 years ago in Poets
Women are not to woo men
My eyes woke to a dark sight, My body was aching but I still wanted to fight. My mind was numb but I could still feel the pain,
By Yogesh Sawant5 years ago in Poets
Beautiful
You're another girl, I'm another world. You're all beautiful, I know my duty. I don't wanna be a girl, Whose eyelashes are bigger than her dreams.
By Yogesh Sawant5 years ago in Poets
Lonesome Soldier
When I'm mindfully swimming in the ocean of this life and to my surprise, a wave of sadness washes over and submerges me in its entirety.
By Ambrosius Eerie5 years ago in Poets
I'm Coming Home
Home, the place in which one's domestic affections have centered, is the center of our joys. A place that holds warmth from the winter, a taste of sweetness when life is bitter.
By Asia Ezell5 years ago in Poets
Home
Home is not a place or somewhere in a far away space. No home is a heart felt emotion, a sense of belonging, and an ideal to grasp, and understand in our own reverance of what is greater than I, me, or you. It is our sacred communion to remind us of our brothers and sisters fellow sibling earthlings lest we forget the true value of home.
By Carl Benson5 years ago in Poets
Home, Sweet Home
I know a place that always made me feel warm, Sheltered me from the rain, Kept me safe in the midst of a storm, Its a good place where a sisterhood was born,
By Julia Waller5 years ago in Poets
Home
A warm welcome at the door. Dinner in the oven, The dog sprawled on the floor. The washing piled high. Kid's grubby fingerprints,
By The Cheffy Poet 5 years ago in Poets