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.

Viola's Purple Veil. Top Story - August 2025. Content Warning.
This was created by Vicki, me. I am no longer producing a paranormal channel with my friend. It is all about Trusselli Art, music, art, film, and progressive politics. I like to create art reflecting truth, fantasy, metaphors, innuendos and manifestations of art and dreams. I bring my dreams to life through my art. I want to share, be cool, creative, paranormal, and be in a paint bucket of life.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
Siren
She exudes a gentle warmth, veiled in the delicate scents of jasmine, mint, and lavender. A supple, rich, earthen glow of brown infused with the soft fire of orange adorns her body like silk.
By Anne R.about a year ago in Poets
Becoming a Hardcore Capitalist
Throughout your life, you have introduced new ideas to your family. They continually assaulted you. Your family only cared about themselves, and they took everything from you.
By TheNaethabout a year ago in Poets
Thoughts
You know that feeling when you're underwater, When you've been dumped by a wave? But you're sinking, almost at the bottom.
By Ruby Redabout a year ago in Poets
POEM - Silent Confessors
Not priests in shadowed, echoing alcoves, Nor therapists in softly cushioned chairs, The truest listeners this harsh world proves
By Jacky Kapadiaabout a year ago in Poets
Whispers of the Forgotten Wind
By Nadeem Shah I. The Wind Remembers The wind does not forget It gathers our yesterdays And scatters them gently across the pines—
By Nadeem Shah about a year ago in Poets
HA6-3SJ
I fell in love with the North Woods where snow and I dissolved seeping in between the cobblestones with belonging. They held my secrets
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets
Sea Soaking
There seemed no way out of The dank darkness of The silent sea cave I spent my days wasting away No avenue of escape From the thickening smoke
By K.B. Silver about a year ago in Poets
Still Life with Thornes
A bruised rose wounded my window sill, The reflection is no longer a mirror. A harp played in the silver storm— Time bent where the silence grew dimmer.
By Angel Aguilarabout a year ago in Poets
Written Will
Flashes of time tick by, while aging is called life at its finest. Finding new meaning to what this all really means only feels relevant
By Marcus Hillabout a year ago in Poets
Vanishing Haiku
How to disappear. Need to fix my perspective. Washing my soul clean. This is my frontier. And this is my directive. Existing half seen My task is unclear, But I won't be deflective. Stuck here in between. Struggling for years. Yearning for a perspective. Vanishing foreseen. Do I exist here? Am I just irrespective? Will I not still bleed? Now I only sneer As I thank the corrective And remain unseen
By Colt Hendersonabout a year ago in Poets
The Tale of Elric Thorn
In the Vale of Eldenmoor, where the mist won’t clear, Lies a tale the villagers still whisper in fear. Of a boy named Elric, quiet and lean,
By Muhammad Rahim about a year ago in Poets