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.

Thunder Rolling
Eyes plastered open Iris rapidly shrinking Face suddenly veiled Shrouded, unreadable Left this plane Slipped the ground
By K.B. Silver about a year ago in Poets
I Once Thought That Love ...
I once thought that love was just a feeling. Bubbly and bubble gum pink; Frills, furs and even fetishes. A passive possum playing dead to problematic poison; refusing to acknowledge the possible price of pride.
By Idara Oghogho about a year ago in Poets
Queue is a Ridiculous Word
Queue is a ridiculous word Its one letter followed by four silent others Perhaps that makes sense The one in the front is ordering
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
The Vanishing Man and the Spiral Dispatch
The Moment of Knowing I spiraled through the dream, back and forth, feather to flame, scroll to mirror. I kept saying it,
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
Box, Stage Left: A Monologue in Three Acts of Deception
Author's Notes Preamble: I wanted to put this right before the action takes place. I am finally published outside of Vocal and by anyone other than myself! This poem is one of two submitted to Vocal legends' Celia and River In Underland's awesome new publication, The Underland Review. This poem and one called "In Situ After “I Need My Girl” by The National (which I will publish on Vocal at another time) are featured in the August 2025 edition, among other names many people will be familiar with.
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
Side Effects. Content Warning.
My brain, My name, My prized possession and creativity, Gone! Frantically I search from East to Quest and South to Snud;
By Rae Janneyabout a year ago in Poets
. . . — — — . . .
The phone rang once. Or maybe it was the hum of the fridge. I keep reading your Morse in the machines Beep, beep, beep, . . .
By E.K. Danielsabout a year ago in Poets
Home Alone
A weekend escape, for her mother- but a break, from her mother. The house is empty. When her Buddy stilled, she ran to him,
By Baby Josieabout a year ago in Poets
Light of the Moon Beams Down On Me
Each night ends Staring into the Seeping tenebrious veil ⋆｡ﾟ︎☪︎⋆｡ﾟ︎ As silence Relinquishes her hold Drops of pink and gold
By K.B. Silver about a year ago in Poets
Manual for Breathing Underwater
1- Begin with silence. Not the calm kind, but the crushing kind—the silence that lives inside your chest, pressing against bone, disguising itself as your own pulse.
By Alain SUPPINIabout a year ago in Poets
Beauty
Beauty What is beauty to me. I would say beauty is beyond that of a physical appearance. I would say beauty is what one believes, what their heart truly desires. Then I would be one to brush away your looks. You're gorgeous, from the way the sun illuminates your brown eyes. To the way you wear your grass stained jeans. Even your beautiful crooked smile. You're ethereal to me, dear. I adore your mannerism as well. The way your heart quickens when I lay my head on your chest. The way you grin when I place a kiss on your soft lips. Even the way you scrunch your nose when you see a beetle. My beautiful boy.
By Haileyesusabout a year ago in Poets
What’s in a Name?
Don’t worry You’re not to blame For I have gone by many a name Three last names Just my first Just my last Sometimes a man, sometimes a woman
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets