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.
Waiting In A Black Hole
Under the heavens is the multiple-verse under the multiverse is layers layers of expanding bubbles that grow larger and larger the space between them a gap that cannot be bridges in any way known to humankind, under the expanding space is and foreign energy source that is controlled by Him the maker of all, the one who is above all else, below the foreign energy source is everything that can be and is somewhere some time, time its under there too, under the multiverse are universes each unique with there own governing rules, under those rules are mysterious beyond our imagination, under those mysterious there is life, life formed from stardust and forces life formed from molecules and chemicals unknown to us, the stuff of fantasy and fiction, under the life is the mind, the mind which contemplates and wonders, under the mind is the ability to dream to dream of everything that is or will be, sometimes under those dreams there is despair knowing those dreams are out of reach, other times there is hope, buts its under the hope under the determination to not accept what is to fight for something better, its under those minds and souls that those dreams turn into reality, under the reality is the shaping of a piece in the puzzle of everything that is and will be
By Jemma Rosewater 5 years ago in Poets
The Din
i haven't heard silence since i was seven years old. tinnitus began for me after a school disco, a night of which i only have one memory, 500 miles by the proclaimers blaring at full volume in my tiny child brain, leaving it permanently marred. and there i was again in a crowd of people with my own mind screaming internally, earplugs lost to the dirty layer of drink-spat-sweat that was the club floor. but I was gone. staring up at the red flashing light, a falling sensation running through all of me, my body falling in on itself and then through the floor, like a dream I had had as a child of falling and falling and falling through infinity, after my mum told me i would go to heaven and live forever, a terrified thought that haunts. a grab of my arm from livs sister and she was in the infinite coma with me, i asked if she was alright and she told me id already asked her that three times and that they were going outside to smoke - and was i coming - and i was coming. a round ginger-bearded ginger man sat next to me on the concrete, and told me that he loved the planet, i explained that i wanted to build wide planet saving wind turbines to save the planet that he loved, as if putting up one of my turbines would be the moment of final restoration for the world. we chatted more shit, after being witness to our rambling conversation for too long it was liv that was longing for warm nirvanic silence. i got up and kissed liv and told her i loved her because i did, she hurried me back into the din
By Alastair Davie5 years ago in Poets
