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.

I am Blood Red
StartI am Blood Red By Khool Blood Red failed, friends and his foes. Enemies they became and enemies they go. I love and I ache and I miss them so
By Kebrah Khool 5 years ago in Poets
Patient Nine, Session Notes
It creeps corpse to corpse, stopping momentarily at the fatter ones, nursing at old dead breasts, but no milk comes, cold nipples
By Vanessa Jimison5 years ago in Poets
I am Purple
I am red and blue simultaneously. I am fiery joy and mellow sorrow. I feel deeply of rich emotions. I'm Royal, rare, at times misunderstood or undervalued. I take work to understand or even to create but I’m worth it. I'm elegant and distinguished. I'm wisteria, dreams, warm grapes in the summer.
By Melinda Wilson5 years ago in Poets
The Little Black Book
Close up blue sky white clouds simple day anything really happening just one thing: Black Ravens at the beach talking with me: Thuany.
By Thuany Caldas Lins5 years ago in Poets
Pink
Pink is Pink; a small tingle. Violet is much better. I felt very very sure; sitting smugly on a bus bench seat in the sticky summer, omw to
By Nina Bookman5 years ago in Poets
Ice Cream
ICE CREAM Seductive poem I woke with a smile upon my face. Feeling happy, about my day. Took a long bath as I reminisced about the night before. I lowered my body in a bashful way, to the bubble that tickled my lips. I remember your words- as you kissed my skin.
By Poetic Empress- Original5 years ago in Poets
Auras
I once thought yellow was sour because lemons were sour but after her, yellow meant promise. red was for lust, purple the milky way,
By Angelica Arrieta5 years ago in Poets
SNIVELING SCARS
SNIVELING SCARS Red riv’ from my face flow ‘Ncision droplets to show When daggers my skin slain. The whites titles tattoos
By Olufunke Oshinoiki-Oyadina5 years ago in Poets
The Gift of Color
Born into a world of black and white... They always said it was 'My way or the highway.' Don't look 'outside the box'... There's nothing there for you, except
By Analise Dionn5 years ago in Poets
Forest Playground
My mind is a colorful prism With places of dark silence And visions beyond conception Where beauty is touch itself The forest is my playground
By MorbidVanilla 5 years ago in Poets
Eyes That Shine A Hue of Honey
Eyes That Shine A Hue of Honey Eyes are the window of your soul. So elusive yet so honest. Carrying with them every step
By Emi 5 years ago in Poets
The Gravity of Stars
“The gravity of stars; The majesty of Mars; To magically depart from tragedies - new starts; Mend the maladies of heart; Save the galaxy at large; Brave the after,
By Joseph Severo5 years ago in Poets