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.

Golden Blues
You may not see it But today’s perks Are better than yesterday’s stone jerks Yes an ache may have settled Yet the strength dwelling in the now
By Kendra Linnette5 years ago in Poets
What color am I ?
Sometimes I look at people and get lost in aspects of them. I notice things that they don't think people will even care about.
By Alexa Basnar5 years ago in Poets
Colorama
The personhood of my life is a colorful play Seeking pleasure in all things graceful, for love to stay My hues of passion were surmised and stapled
By Romeo Kaleikau5 years ago in Poets
Violet
“It is a Violet!”, The doctor says. “It is an Indigo!”, The doctor says. The doctor pulled me out to this world. He declared my life sentence.
By Asiya5 years ago in Poets
UltraViolet
Shades of blue unravel In the distance between Me to you Counting the colors of each day Measuring wavelengths Frequency changing
By Sonia Cook Broen5 years ago in Poets
Daughter of Ireland
Oh, Danny Boy, Do you not hear me singing? For it’s surely with you that I need bringing, Back to the sea and the salt-spattered gray,
By Emily Flanagan 5 years ago in Poets
The Drums
Last night, I dreamt of ancestral drums. The sound was so loud and real that in my sleep I got up and walked out the door.
By Suge Acid Hawk5 years ago in Poets
Self-Made Panorama
I'm red when the sun wakes me up, the sleepiness rubbed from my eyes, and my nighttime escapes are lost things, gone to waking hours and the smell of coffee.
By Jillian Spiridon5 years ago in Poets
Miss Evergreen.
The colour green is me. It’s all of me, so me. Miss Evergreen. I made it up. That’s who I am, Miss Evergreen. My mum's green eyes, first sight I knew.
By Maya Ozolina5 years ago in Poets
Eyes Closed
My eyes close and in the immediate darkness Nothing But wait, what light in distance breaks Not bright but Like gossamer
By Daniel Latch5 years ago in Poets
The Power of Magenta
It began With the words Once upon a time, From there people, spoke of curses, of witches, Princes and Princesses, and a love everlasting
By InkGalaxies~5 years ago in Poets
Slumber
It wasn't until I went to bed that I realised that the light of day beckoned its return, that orange glow that shined above, an ageless display, discernibly witnessed due to the earths magnetic field rejecting spectrums that reveal its true colour... white.
By James W McDonald5 years ago in Poets