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 Never Knew Until Today
Red Like fire Step into the light Days past Would have chose another But I know now It has always been Red Red that devours
By Melissa5 years ago in Poets
BLOOM
BLOOM Flourishing in red Blessed in the blood of thy woman Summing thy pain while a man contemplates thy birth Frail thy knees, praising a God
By Daiane Marques5 years ago in Poets
Green Womxn
I always thought womxn was green Green like the farm of my sometime childhood Womxn smells green to me in my memory I was called a tree many times
By kotryna gecaite5 years ago in Poets
Unfiltered Thoughts
UNFiltered thoughts Theme: Mask on -deception -misrepresentation Never really gave nor was given these moments Where I can sit and think
By Ambitious Queen5 years ago in Poets
Caravanserai
Caravanserai I arrive at lodges after long journeys across landscapes and the stakes of emotions, wearing blisters on my ankles, hands worn smooth by the wind and roughened by years of spine making physical labor, carrying satchels filled with letters smeared with honey and fresh notions, articles of clothing hand made, tailored shoes, carved totems envelopes of spices, an infinite supply of lamp oil and firelight, jars filled with the soil and seeds of years of traversing continents and cultures of the Earth, sometimes with my head in the skies
By Leo Skála 5 years ago in Poets
Remnants
Rummaging through the remnants of my life. Again. Looking for traces… pathways to the forgotten ones. Calling me home. Drawing me in. To a place of knowing. Tapping in. Tuning out the crackling of old tapes. Reigniting the flame of my truth. If there are ashes here… there must have been fire once. Fire needs kindling kind links kind hands to ignite the spark into wisps of flame gentle breaths to nurture into loving embrace fire cannot burn hot alone in this cold cold world fire me fire me up fire me down fire me all around until I become holy ash to be scattered returning to feed you.
By Marjorie Beaucage5 years ago in Poets
SheLah MeRaRi
Colors the mode Mimi Amore The Flow Glows Colors Inside Sunshine's bright, Beyond The Dark Knight. Shades golden yellow raised toward the chosen one's site.
By Maria S. Moore5 years ago in Poets
Blue
Blue. The depths of the soul through the blue lens of my eyes. The splashing of the waves of my inner core. Waves, moving fluid, love. The crashing of the sea, angst. The endless blue sky, hope. The icebergs of my native land, icy, cold, angry. The soft pitter-pattering of the raindrops on my window.
By Kimberly Chiarelli5 years ago in Poets
I Needed Color
Gripped by the winter left in the dark and choked by the cold I needed light… I needed light I found it in color I found new breath to give new life
By Jiré Saffron5 years ago in Poets
The Colors Part 3: Yellow
The following is a poem that goes along with three others and a painting; these are collectively named "The Colors". They were an exercise in positive-emotion-expressing poetry that I created in 2018. This third one should strongly engage the unconscious.
By S. Alex5 years ago in Poets
A wolves tale
Here I cook a meal for kings. I set the dishes as a song bird sings. For this meal is for no king. Nor shall I be handing out a ring. Its presentation must be right. And my secret can't be in plain sight. For when we finish this meal tonight. It will be only me who has delight. I garnish the plates with gentle care. I pour the wine and check your chair. I invite you in with the sweetest grin. Shall we eat, where shall I begin. A salad for two, but just for you. Maybe a stuffed mushroom , one or two. Then we are on to a cup of soup. It will be my pleasure let me scoop. I will offer cheese and crackers. May leave the room to toss some wrappers. I won't be long, back in a flash. Short of breath, from that quick dash. Lobster and steak, this dish piled high. Make sure u save room for ice cream and pie. Dinner almost done, and I have not had a bite. You look at the clock in the now dimming light. After pie you can spend the night. I'm not going to lie, everythings all right. The look in my eye shows no signs. But you know all the while something shines. My eyes seem empty but full at times. That like short stories and rhymes. You smile and say, "no thanks. I must go and check my tanks. " With a flash and a sudden wind. A storm shutter blows in. For now it is to late. Your are my dinner date. Now You truly see my smile. I start to change in the moon light. You start running in fright. But it is to late. For you are my dinner date.......
By Kevin hodgson5 years ago in Poets
redboned
red, like the distant stars full of fire, bright and far dreamlike essence, flares like the sun passionate escalation, a campfire warmth
By Raven Rose Cobb5 years ago in Poets