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.
Light
I don’t know if you have the time to hear this rhyme but I know I fell from the sky and I turned to evil in the dark of land. When I met man we despised a plan. A plan to rule, a plan to enslave, a plan to make it all our own way. I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t see, I closed my eyes to the light you see. I felt all powerful, nothing can stop me. I’ll build a tower and shoot an arrow, I cursed the sky and killed the sparrow. I was in the dark and I thought I was in control but it was the dark that had control of me. I was so blind I couldn’t see, trying to find a way out but I couldn’t break it, I knew I only had an ounce of life left so I couldn’t fake it. Then I saw a small speck of light, I cried, I plead, I ran all night, I chased it all around the earth, until I called its name, it birthed. Into more light brighter than the sun, I knew this was a way out, oh my evil fun was over and I’ll never go there again, the light brought me through the darkness and I never will find my way back, those footsteps are washed away, this is a brand new day, I’m gonna make it to them golden gates and rejoice with love because there’s no more hate. One LOVE!
By Joseph Samuel5 years ago in Poets
Speak, Persephone
Speak to me. He didn’t have to be so mean. Why did I lose all hope? I’ll fight this forever. I’ve been fighting my whole life. I hate my life but only half of the year. When everything is black. Darkness is crowned king. A crown of doom. My grudge of suffering. Beneath the ground, I burn in the pit. The bottomless pit of human souls. An ocean of massive hysteria. A mountain of melancholy. Where am I now? Is it time now? To leave everything behind? A captive bride taken from home. I couldn’t just be, I was taken from me. To Gehenna, to Abaddon. Open were the gates to welcome one of their own. My captor: Hades, Anubis, Pluto. Shiva, leave me be! Please stop! All become winter and dies. My mother weeps and I’m punished. He whispers for me to let go. I can’t beg anymore. I have to take what’s coming to me. The day ends, the loneliness begins. Speak to me, please. I don’t know what I’m doing here. What the hell am I doing here?
By Anna Torres5 years ago in Poets
