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.

Ran away
I was sitting, and I saw nothing around, no one to talk, like I've ran away from everything. Ran away, that's the thing I swore,
By The Mager6 years ago in Poets
Sighs Within All I am
Sighs Within All I am The skin on my skull is thin and wearing. The inside of my mind is painful and tearing. On the outside, my eyes are burning and crying.
By Dennis 6 years ago in Poets
Spark Ignites
The spark ignites; setting the Chariot Free. He rides with passion and fire; ruled by pride. There; lands a droplet seemingly from no where. The scent of salt upon his tongue, the breeze in his hair. She sits across the ocean waters singing her heavenly tune.
By Felecia Memminger6 years ago in Poets
Original Adam & Eve
If I was Adam. You were Eve. And we removed the fig leaves, that was our separation. The comfortability that each of us shared.
By Dennis 6 years ago in Poets
Westward A Reason To Renew
See the color of the sky. Watch as your freedom bird flies. Ripping through the years. Like a page torn out the history books.
By Dennis 6 years ago in Poets
Heart of stone
Hardened boulder, steadfast rock, heart of calloused stone, Your love once pure has been defiled and rotted to the bone, Where once gracious words were gifted, an uplifted voice to bless,
By Jordan Zuniga6 years ago in Poets
The Grand Puppet Master
It cuts like a dagger’s edge, Or a thousand razors at once, It burns as the sting of the blades, Expose each lesion, Fresh wounds layout in the open,
By AJ Thomas6 years ago in Poets
Anchises
My son, born of a goddess, carried me for I was punished for boasting, from the burning city on his shoulder, leading his son by the hand. He lost his wife that night amidst the turmoil, soon after he lost me. Now I sit and wait for him to return, so that I may tell him of his future. I sit looking at those who are to be men some soon and some far from now. I have much to tell of the greatness of his people that is yet to come. A mission for all the sons of Mavors, to do the duty they were born to do.
By Ethan Graham6 years ago in Poets
The Thief
Two eyes ponder about the town; Two lips show a wicked frown. An aroma reaches his nose from the east. 'Tis the smell of gold," he says. "How sweet".
By Matthew Leo6 years ago in Poets
On The Waves
Dank. Dark. Moldy. Crampt. Squeezed together like cigars in a box they are. Rocking, and roiling. Sweat beads and is stolen by another body.
By Jessica Conway6 years ago in Poets
always space.
i've died in a room there flowers bloom raised from the depths through the abyss of truths unspoken proof i was here changing and growing
By lashay6 years ago in Poets
be not afraid of the mind.
beauty is the mind that wanders the worlds most powerful tool the creation of galaxies each with different suns, stars, and moons
By lashay6 years ago in Poets