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 Beast & Me
Black. And so, so heavy. I’m tired of carrying you around. Your weight on my shoulders, It’s crushing me. - I need to stop, hide, slow down.
By Jessie Waddell5 years ago in Poets
Colors
I saw the world in a plethora of colors. Red, blue, purple, gold Beautiful combinations, ever shifting and changing. Always in conversation,
By Callie Gallegos 5 years ago in Poets
The Chameleon
My mother says my empathy is what makes me unique, The way I adapt my tone of voice, to match those in which I speak She said I am not just one colour, for I am a reflection of my peers,
By EVE COLEY5 years ago in Poets
What Colour Is You Canvas?
What Colour Is Your Canvas? From White To Black , or Black To White? A Single Colour Is A start For Others A Base To Start From To Build A Picture of You Or Me I Start at White You May Start At Black I Add Red For Blood With White It Drifts To Pink Then Green for Grass and For Go Blue for The Ocean A Place To Go The more shades The More we become The More We Paint Ourselves The Colours of The Rainbow On Your own Canvas Painting You Painting Me Our Colours Showing Who We Are Us From Canvas To Work of Art
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 5 years ago in Poets
What Are We Doing?
What are we doing? It’s what I hear The voice in my head Or from my own lips Who controls them instead? What are we doing?
By The Bantering Welshman5 years ago in Poets
Grow so Green
Tears I cry from my sorrowed heart Poured to me from the heavens of human earth. A sour water filled of greed I only wish to be me.
By Lilly Ashley5 years ago in Poets
What should I wear?
I stand in front of my mirror trying to avoid eye contact with myself. I see my brown skin and black hair and I remember the moments where I wished they weren’t.
By Den Basa5 years ago in Poets
The Ghost and the Phoenix
I died the day I said goodbye I snipped the last painful thread Anchoring me to the past And let myself be consumed By its amber-titian fury
By Stephanie Nielsen5 years ago in Poets
Your Colour Grows
The world does not always begin in blends of black and white, But as I age, the colours fade, they merge to shades of grey.
By Kay Mistry5 years ago in Poets
Two:Them ; A:Dove
SPACE MARKS Date 5/6/2021 Time 5:34 - 7:12 UNION Date 5/10/2021 Time 8 : 58 AM ETERNAL WORDS Two:Them ; A:dove I! In : Hoy Meditation,
By Marcus Romano5 years ago in Poets
you're burgundy, she said
it's jazz that makes me feel cocaine it's wine and sex and smell of fame it's red that hurts my dress her love the sky
By Cristina Flower5 years ago in Poets
Love Story
I. I once touched the sun It didn't look very hot Through my sunglasses The breathtaking speed Made me forget I was your
By Janya Golubeva5 years ago in Poets