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.

chicken colors
chicken colors, Borisanti 9 the gutter of babylon night, a dark corner behind the dive the whispers say Listen.. your colors are off
By Borisanti 95 years ago in Poets
Kaleid - Reagan, Hannah & Ryan
Reagan is red orange. Stunning, confident, But scared to be herself. Bright, warm, But not always the sunniest. Strong enough to stand alone,
By Cassandra Grace5 years ago in Poets
Orange, A Sonnet
The world is ending. Catch us smoking weed out of an orange in your mom’s backyard. Oh, I’m a radio. I am a sound between stations. This long-time listener,
By Hannah Maverick Cruz5 years ago in Poets
YOU HEAR MY WORDS... NOW LISTEN AND FEEL MY SOUL
How can it be that in many long conversations and a year of exhausting verbal platitude you see only in green. The green of money.
By Novel Allen5 years ago in Poets
Ying and Yang
Torment a curse, we cannot escape ~ Spiraling insanity, repeat the same mistake~ Huge heart filled with light, fragile as a feather~
By Amanda Marks5 years ago in Poets
Hello, my name is
I see the beauty, where it is hidden. I hide more secrets, when I am seen. I am misunderstood, I am forbidden. I am dark, I am keen.
By Paige Lauscher5 years ago in Poets
I Don't Know You
I see you watching me, and every word I write, you read, but I don't know who you are. You sometimes comment, often vote, tell me how you feel about what I wrote, but I don't know who you are.
By Michelle Devon5 years ago in Poets
Ma couleur préférée
Blue is my favorite color. Blue is also the color of Iris, my favorite flower. Blue is the color I feel when I hear about or
By Susan Lee5 years ago in Poets
Grey
Life can be hard work when a strange genetic quirk sends you grey before the age of seventeen. Instead of flowing raven locks
By Garry Condoseres5 years ago in Poets
A conversation with the devil.
Here’s the thing about him you have to understand. He’s not evil, he’s just a devil. He was born prideful and perfect, His strength is stronger than words, His existence is powerful than the biggest river, His kiss is purer than the finest pearls, His hand wrap you in his embrace and at one clenched, you devoted yourself to him.
By Phitchaya.5 years ago in Poets
ROY G BIV
I met Roy a long time ago He showed me what it’s like to be alone Lackadaisical it seems Everything is just a dream Once upon a time so lame
By Amanda Meredith Stroud5 years ago in Poets
What Are You?
I used to believe I oozed femininity. I realized I ooze sex, not even sexuality. My color means sex. My color means distortion, it means jungle fever.
By Michelle5 years ago in Poets