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.

Isolated
The experience of isolation Hurting now more than ever Causing angst and frustration Just wanting to surrender * In these solitary times
By DMTakeshi5 years ago in Poets
Nothing Ever Happened
I am a being of immense power And I call all experiences into my life Thereby there is not a process in ‘the world’ that I need to do.
By The Naked Spiritualist5 years ago in Poets
True Story
Rabbit holes are for amateurs. There’s a soft landing, tea parties and room to turn around. No, this girl had fallen through the cracks, hit the rock hard bottom, was squeezed between two thin walls and then clawed her way back out!
By Monique Hemingway5 years ago in Poets
Pulp
Fingertips pressed to temples, everything pulsates. Eyes left swollen and the final sob of the nights events linger in the back of the throat. Weak after dismembering pieces of my heart over.
By Mutationist5 years ago in Poets
Searching
Combing through the mysteries of life The dark edges of my inner cosmos By way of my mystical heart Searching endlessly to find a clue
By Paul Douglas5 years ago in Poets
Aeralyn
Hello earthlings. Aeralyn is your new leader. Bring your offerings. She couldn’t be any sweeter.
By DMTakeshi5 years ago in Poets
Ball
Idea from James Knowlson’s biography of Samuel Beckett – “Damned to Fame”: When Beckett travelled to New York to supervise the filming of “Film” (1965), he attended a baseball game with his American editor/publisher Barney Rossett. Beckett could eventually follow the game; this was the only time he visited New York and the only baseball game that he attended. Not sure which team he saw (Mets or Yankees).
By Kendall Defoe 5 years ago in Poets
NOTHINGNESS
Thoughts incarcerate your being and spirit... endless thoughts of negativity flowing through your brain... paralyzing your mind... dimming your wit.
By Dawn Mazzetta5 years ago in Poets
THE WORLD
THE WORLD The world moves in different ways, It keeps on moving, So it stays.. Relevant! It turns in orbit, The days go by,
By Victor Mendez5 years ago in Poets
The Paradox
This is some sober people shit I need a cigarette Everywhere I go clean, a different kind of layered upon thickness I see the shadowed silhouette,
By Kay Source5 years ago in Poets
Where do We Live?
Being sober is very robust in a way That I expected a lack of depth Shadow living is what I call it Sinking into shelter that was a brief reprieve from hurt
By Kay Source5 years ago in Poets
<<<<<<<DREAM>>>>>>>
<<<<<<<<<<<DREAM>>>>>>>>>>> Whilst the sun doth shine... Tell me a story, Read me a line. I will wait upon your quiet voice,
By Victor Mendez5 years ago in Poets