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 mother's maiden name
I was taken from her before I even took my first breath no memories of her infrastructure no recollection of what she smells like,
By Simara Askew5 years ago in Poets
Homecoming: An Automatic Poem By My Self-Conscious
What does home mean to me? What does it symbolize? Is it a want of belonging? Or a fear of exclusion? Is it something that morphs over the years, or is it forever a constant etched into our hearts?
By Sara Thomas5 years ago in Poets
LIFE GOES ON ALONE
Variation theme. Time defy expectation. Never changed schmaltz. Administer Love. Care. Precision mind. Metered. Perfected. Divine pi Equality. Magic apple vine.
By Ibraahiym Kadessh5 years ago in Poets
Tangible Nothingness
A certain smell so fleeting That drifts upon the wind, Dissipates, no sign no trace Save the mark upon the mind. The spark of memory,
By Kristen Slade5 years ago in Poets
Everyday struggles in life
Man some days are great some days not so much, But every day there is always something you want but cant touch, Maybe one day its seeing rich people living there best life and you scrape to get by,
By Mitchell5 years ago in Poets
Ceramic City
I want to take you to my city. My ceramic city. China cranes and ceramic chains keep constructions from collapsing in my ceramic city.
By Maddie Ireland5 years ago in Poets
We wander, we're not lost
Why stress over the future if all it does is compress you? What’s the point in constant worry if we’re nothing but confused?
By Novi5 years ago in Poets
A Story of You
Sadness, either passionately or imperceptibly melts your core and body. It is a force that makes you feel your very being is pulled or rather merciless pushed towards the floor, attacking your feet first before climbing up your surrendering limbs. Sadness is the life drained out of shades of blue and grey. It is the hot tears welling in hurt eyes threatening to cascade down warm faces. Sadness is weakening. Sadness likes to linger.
By Maddie Ireland5 years ago in Poets
Volveré
They said I chose you before I knew myself because the ego lies to all of us and it's better to trust the presence of being
By Nah.5 years ago in Poets
Endurance
Within this world we live, how many do you know who will, really, truly give. Some will give their word, yet when the time comes it will fly off like an injured bird.
By Kaylon Forsyth5 years ago in Poets
Home
There is a Homes… Filled with warmth, love, and laughter, sweet, new bedroom decorations. Emotional support, pride, trust,
By Nicki Gallick5 years ago in Poets
Home Note
For home is where the hearth is; Going is entering the cold. Growing from hearthless to heartless, Abjuring harmony's protection, discharging tonality,
By Gerard DiLeo5 years ago in Poets