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.
Dreams and awake
Out into the night with cicadas and brush the darkness is rolling against red and pink sunsets. Everywhere palms are swaying and the Ocean is dark and rolling. Not in a frame rate strategy, it is literally moving and pushing on your mind directly. You are searching for something like an answer you used to know. Its hidden and when you find it everything you used to know will seem like a wiser answer. So what is this dream that has trapped you? Your definable illusion? Your control? How did you happen here? How did you happen there, before? If you’re not certain now, were you certain then? You are meant to ask nothing, seek something while your aware everything is something it no longer is.
By Justin Bedtelyon 6 years ago in Poets
Dead Dreamers
In the places where dreamers collide. We are brought together by destruction and water color. Of tragic melodies unfolding within. We are the infinite ciphers. Hardbound and lost in chapters of unrest and marvel. Indefinite. We teach songs to the dying. Of already being. And sleeping underwater. Of the oceans in the clouds. And the banality of our everyday walk. In desperate strides. And at a fiery pace. In scrolls of long lost hope unknown. We die and are reborn upon the recurring eves of realization. To love and to create. To walk on hallowed ground. In amaranthine catharsis breathes a balance unseen. Of ephemeral moments. And the aurelia of our conciousness. In the stars lie forgotten secrets. And on the tongues of dead dreamers lies the heart of the earth.
By Sabrina Lilith Black6 years ago in Poets
A truth beyond this realm
I feel my pulse quicken. Here we go again and I must watch the chaos unfold within me. I sit with a calmness demanded by choice. I allow my mind to stare into the thoughts manifesting. the what if dissolves as the distinct choice to remain screams. My blood boils in response of fear and its gripping destruction. I am not like you for you're not like me. However, can you accept our energies intertwine.
By Samuel Bitner6 years ago in Poets
