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.

The Awakening
Searching for the answers to questions of the soul. Looking deep within to find the answers that will win. Living a life of peace, love, and prosperity without sin.
By Brenda Fluharty5 years ago in Poets
Beauty Of Me
Even though I may seem blue, you cannot judge me for I am also Red. I blossom and bloom , I love and I glow . I am power.
By Nadazia 🔆5 years ago in Poets
a lifetime of silence
i was the silent girl the quiet girl the awkward girl eventually, a cute boy noticed the girl who kept her voice chained,
By Purple Phoenix Poetry5 years ago in Poets
I Am The World
Hold you so, in my arms while I rock you Grow and grow, time takes me from you The more you know, the less that you need me
By Dannielle Nelson5 years ago in Poets
For The Want
I whisper to then inner me with wishes of immortality, kneeling on knees not worn, praying to gods with limited belief, swept up in anarchy,
By Matthew Tonks5 years ago in Poets
My thoughts..
My thoughts... My thoughts are to deep to remember...yet I remember being in thought. Dreaming about what reality really means..or is reality simply what's real to me. I have faith that the unknown is a spiritual realm in which the human mind will never comprehend. I believe that as a human being we are spiritually guided from within..not from without.
By Tracey Hodoh5 years ago in Poets
Red Tales
And in honor of the ocean of blood that swept my name I curse the grounds he walked on which has begone to an idle of rust and flames
By Sana Zia5 years ago in Poets
Anger * Power
1. Violently defiant and fiercely alone. Her presence singes the bitter air, And it cracks. Enter Elektra. The wolf plays in sheep skin,
By Camilla Siig5 years ago in Poets
As I sit here
As I sit here I wonder why in my life that things happen the way they do Set goals for a better me a better you If the sail boat of my life trails out south do I pull the ranks and head out west instead
By Corinne Del Cid5 years ago in Poets
brainslug
4:00 a.m. cocoon. I wish I were the moon. thin air to breathe, no where to be, misty, drifty, moon. A consciousness resides beneath the night's last grasp on skin.
By jade valentine5 years ago in Poets
The Queen
The doors open and she steps inside. With all eyes upon her there's no way to hide. The Queen must do this dance, it's required, she is bound;
By Dannielle Nelson5 years ago in Poets
Did You Know?
When you speak to me I get a headache. When you drive/front, I feel like a doped up, mental patient just looking out the window sublimely.
By Dannielle Nelson5 years ago in Poets