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 Tenant
Dead flies buzz, reanimated with rage... Or the common sickness of this age. It swirls and churns deep in our gut Cutting life short and giving us a useless shortcut
Silver Serpent BooksPublished 7 months ago in Poets"Whispers Amidst the Roar: Embracing Quiet in a Noisy World"
In a world so loud and busy, Finding quiet feels quite dizzy. Yet, between the honks and chatter, Silence matters, it's no minor matter.
Ammar NadeemPublished 7 months ago in PoetsTears
I’m looking out the window of our apartment Wondering why all the things that make me cry start with you. It’s love always like this
Aubrey jamesPublished 7 months ago in PoetsMy Alien on a two wheeler
He appeared seemingly out of thin air From an unknown galaxy somewhere out there His futuristic ride was quite eye catching
Novel AllenPublished 7 months ago in PoetsHow Can Nothing Be Nothing?
How can nothing be nothing when there is always something? And if there is nothing, there is always one thing. Where something exists,
Carol TownendPublished 7 months ago in PoetsMy Alien Friend
The strange figure was watching me, Like me when I'm observing tea. Was it a she or was it a he? I did not know, I was willing to explore.
Carol TownendPublished 7 months ago in PoetsI Have No Idea What You Are
An Alien landed in front of me! I offered it food, It stared at me miserably. I took it to the shop, But away it hopped!
Carol TownendPublished 7 months ago in PoetsA Writer Likes To Write
A writer likes to write, But it gives me such a fright; Shall I start with this word, Or that word? No! that's just absurd!
Carol TownendPublished 7 months ago in PoetsWho Speaks for the Moon?
Who speaks for the moon When the books are removed Who will whistle our tune Who will tell our tale when our tails are hidden
Atomic HistorianPublished 7 months ago in PoetsI Want To Be Lame With You
I want to be lame with you I want to hold your hand As we walk through the morning dew I want to just sit and do all the nothing
Atomic HistorianPublished 7 months ago in Poets- Top Story - September 2023
Roles
I am the first First child, first grandkid, first niece The prototype The role model Being crushed under the weight of responsibility.
Imani WaltonPublished 7 months ago in Poets Eternal Dance of Dreams
In moonlit realms where stars embrace the night, A tapestry of dreams takes wistful flight. In whispered sighs, the world begins to sway,