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.
Grease, Grit, & Gasoline
I was watching the news as of lately realized, we are still fighting over oil in 2025. My kind, hardworking late Dad, big Vic, was a mechanic who loved his work. He worked with oil, gasoline, and all those products. He didn't fight over the guy’s gas station down the street. They would shake hands. talk & laugh. The only argument I remember is the time when my dad worked for a real jerk before he bought his own gas station. The jerk boss refused to buy a heater, fan, or AC for my dad’s stall. My dad was not angry. He went to the bank and borrowed money to buy the gas station down the street from his jerk boss. He opened his own gas station. His former jerk boss visited my Dad ready for a fight. My Dad, big Vic, shook his hand, invited him to see his new station. The first thing my dad showed the old boss was his his AC and heater. The guy left. My Dad told him, “Have a wonderful day. Come back anytime.” That was decades ago in another reality of time and space. My Dad just wanted to work hard, take care of his family, and bring home the bacon. So, my friends, I wrote this country song dedicated to my late Dad, big Vic. He was my hero!
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
Existentialism
The quiet silence that is being alone in your own head. The world is crash and loud, but you feel it pressing down around you. At best, it briefly pierces through your years. At most, you watch the stream of light through your eyes. It is like being under a blanket of water, where the occasional spear of air and bubbles pound down around you. It disappears in all but your memory. It is the memory that hurts. The understanding that there is a world outside of the numbness. That there is some kind of life to be had. But it just … can't quite … reach.
By Minte Staraabout a year ago in Poets
