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 Thing with Talons
09/01/21 There’s a monster Living under my skin. I’ve seen it in the mirror and I’ve felt it shifting my face into its own.
By Emery Pine5 years ago in Poets
B.P.D ( Borderline Personality Disorder )
B.P.D (Borderline Personality Disorder) Let me be B.P.D What is it? Borderline Personality disorder, My OCD wants the last two words switched. Haha.
By Erica Jordan5 years ago in Poets
i do you want
and i am so tired my life is so uninspired been abandoned by everything including my sleep exhausted. extremely weak overthinking to the max in my mind
By k slam poetry 5 years ago in Poets
it
living is becoming too painful i hate to say but i have let down my guardian angel she just tried to give me the hope i needed
By k slam poetry 5 years ago in Poets
Error In My Mind
There's an error in my brain, A virus running rampant And destroying the delicate memories Of long-gone autumns, Trees that have cracked and given
By Silver Daux5 years ago in Poets
Our love is gone
What we had seemed to drift so far away I wanted to keep you in my heart to stay But it seems to fade away Just go away There are things
By Gladys W. Muturi5 years ago in Poets
Pub
To sit in a quiet pub, In the middle of the day, Camouflaged within the working week, Snug, in my smugness. Pen and pint in hand,
By Gavin J Innes5 years ago in Poets
RAMBLINGS .1
I haven’t been outside in days On some occasions the trees wave to me I feel taunted Taunted by the world I unwillingly exist in
By Miles Vaessen5 years ago in Poets
Darkness
I feel its darkness lurking. I know it is there, so I expect it. Even so, I am never prepared for it. It's black, twisted vines reaching out like tentacles from some ancient sea beast. The vines ensnare me, grappling my legs and wrists the whole time, pulling me ever closer to the darkness. Suffocating, all-enveloping darkness. A place where my mind is no longer my own.
By J. Delaney-Howe5 years ago in Poets
The Legend of the Stormweaver
One morning in a temp'ry home I lit aflame some letters two In mourning of a burnt out poem A love story now surely through
By Insinq Datum5 years ago in Poets
The lonely snowman
Alone, alone I trot, aimlessly in the vast expanse, the vast expanse of the snowy landscape, wishing, wishing for someone, a friend, a companion, to look into,
By somsubhra banerjee5 years ago in Poets
Mystics of the Sea
I want to sit on the beach Where great waves break but barely touch my bare feet. I want to imagine great beasts swimming just beyond my shallow reach.
By May Simmons5 years ago in Poets