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.
Contained
Echoes of eternity pass by in ever-changing landscapes converging in a tapestry of delight, that once held cannot be grasped again, the train has left and the singularity in stride begins, not as one that can see all at one time, can grasp all, but a passenger in direction cohorst, able to taste touch and smell all that is within the mighty train, and all that is without is forbidden, no tangible forms, distorted ghostly figures bellowing tales of time, whisked away on a trajectory headed for the unknown we remain blind and deaf, oblivious to the whole, believing we are so.
By Johnny Gerbrandt5 years ago in Poets
Far reaching
Far-reaching curiosities tending toward flaw, initiate consequences of dismembered context, driven in contempt, begging direction. As if no sound has been, nor has the heart poured its passion that it may be ignored, cast to the pile allowed to rot. It has been held stifled to smolder deep within, can it be seen, is it tangible enough that others may see, or is this mine alone to see. For who can know the flavors but the chef, however, his masterpiece may be enjoyed universally, the careful weavings of the mind dictate a peculiar taste, not one sought by many nor is there a connoisseur that is not rare, they can smell the emotion and wring the words and taste every drop, molding and shaping the perspective toward a new understanding or is it new, eons buried deep in the recesses of the psyche striving to reach the surface, clawing through a muddled network of neurons programed in ways unbeknownst, yet bending to the mighty will, the desire, to know, as the phoenix that was once ashes, smoulder complete, is apt for rebirth the expression of the whole that cannot be denied its presence nor its expression.
By Johnny Gerbrandt5 years ago in Poets
Even though
Insipid character controlling the animal gripping it’s freedom and binding its lustre Trap the beast keep him sedated, fasten him in insecurities that he may feel less than, for who cannot see princes being cast aside while the crumbling rule the day, their horses give ride to the weak, whereas the mighty toil restlessly in fields of dismay, as if the fortitude of these can be broken even though the hands are empty the perpetual radiance will never leave them, for they are not born of the weakness they were born in battle and have arisen and cannot be put asunder, even though they walk alone with empty hands.
By Johnny Gerbrandt5 years ago in Poets
Please Thy Eyes.
Transcendent heights of once fallen nodes of lost tablets echo relentlessly across the chasms of molten mocheries, taunting and jeering latent prisms that scatter voices into form, the silhouette endures the dance bleeding emotion not yet realized in a freedom beyond the experience of the ones who judge without seat, how would it be, those who are with flaw may seat themself in a lofty throne above those of their own kind, leaking and spewing forth weakness insecurity, dripping with pride upheaving the pillars that support the facade. Your finger has found you out, demand as so demanded, knees are bent unequal equation summed up in saturated illustrations of garbled misshapen monoliths embodied by indescribable projection, cast upon congealed spirits of the gorged, slothful and sloopy slumbering, exacting, thee exact time and space possessed by another entwined by force, sleep, dream, please thy eyes, sleep, dream, please thy eyes.
By Johnny Gerbrandt5 years ago in Poets
Wild Ramblings
Encased in ash breathing in fetters of vines, scroll through time, scattering the water of ancient days. Corrupt by insecurities that run wild through his character enslaving him in the movement he has no belief in, entranced by sunbursts traveling through twisted dimensions bringing him rest and joy. guttural voices with intrepid strength spanning across the expanse wavering not to emotions of fleeting weakness, drowning despair in a sea of unprecedented joy. Metal swallowed by fire refining the corrupt out, creating metal pure unbreakable. Tension resides in the trivial way of the sullen, destroyed by the mind that keeps them tormented, tails of time ridiculed to fragments of dust torn in two by the winds that distribute gnarled principles.
By Johnny Gerbrandt5 years ago in Poets
