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.
Sabbatical
A touch of holiness, this is how you break and weigh me down. With a hint of loneliness, my dreams become smaller until they’re buried in the ground. I’ve worshipped at the cult of innocence. These pillars will crumble, they reject and repress. A trophy I cannot possess. The higher I climb, the more I fail and obsess. An altar of worship and fire. They’ve prayed to the false gods and all the liars. Trouble finds me and declares me unfit. My history is destroyed and erased bit by bit. The genie didn’t grant me my wishes. The devil wasn’t a hero, he was just vicious. My prayers never reached the ears of aliens. They never came to earth, they only reached the ceiling. My darkness shines through, into the abyss. Light doesn't exist, this dimension is a mess. Fragile like a doll, fragile like a bomb. Implosion is a goal and now, everything is gone
By Anna Torres5 years ago in Poets
Confession
I grieve for what never happened . I’ve been banished to far off exile. Ejected from society, rejected and evicted. Ostracized and outlawed. To the outskirts of this wasteland. The barren pressures of the outback. Parched and thirsty. Deported and discarded. Tested for omittion. Edited for excommunication. Transported to the edge of fiction. Demented and fabricated. This visionary only sees failure. Hypothetical assumptions. Storybook myths and biblical psalms. Legendary notions and abnormal endeavors. The phantom illusion. The tundra of hallucination. A figment of your imagination. My fairytale of apparitions. The ultimate deception. A fool’s paradise. A see-through specter. This life is fragile. A frail utopia. A disgrace. Vague and pensive. I’m going down the rabbit hole. To where the mad all dwell. I’m late for a very important date. To embrace the darkness. To a wonderland I’ve never known
By Anna Torres5 years ago in Poets
In the Shadows
The creatures crept from every crevice in the room. They seeped through the air appearing from shadows. Not one touched me, but they all had power over me. I jumped as each one appeared. I was petrified, but when one grabbed the bed right next to me, that was it. I needed you, more than you'll ever know. With one flick of the light, they fled back to the Hell from which they came. Leaving me with only my thoughts, their figures ever more etched on my mind. You drift back to sleep. It scares me more than you know. That one day I'll become to odd for you. I wish I could make someone understand the Hell in which I live. It's demoralizing for a rational human being to have such terrifying illusions that rip their brain apart from the inside. I wish I could just tell you what's going on, but there are no words. I'm not even sure I know myself. All I know now is I'm terrified to fall back asleep.
By Paige Baker5 years ago in Poets
