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.

Sometimes it be like that 😁
[Verse] Woke up feeling like a hurricane blast Thought I'd outrun it but it’s way too fast My brain’s a disco with the lights on crack
By Blake Robertabout a year ago in Poets
Point One
Point One i find is the beginning of every unthought question what is inconsiderable and unfindable and indescribably nonexistent
By Ruby Redabout a year ago in Poets
Fuck Cancer
We all know or have had someone lost to cancer So I wear my shirt that says Fuck cancer I lost to many loved ones to this fucking virus
By Blake Robertabout a year ago in Poets
Steps
A place to go up and down A place that's not profound Step by step its built by motion There even some in the ocean One by one they carry precision
By Blake Robertabout a year ago in Poets
Tribulations
[Verse] Woke up in the shadow of a stormy fight Lost my map in the chaos of the night Every step feels heavy like sinking sand
By Blake Robertabout a year ago in Poets
The Storm I Tried to Keep
I stared into the gray of you; it matched what I saw in my own reflection. Dreams soaked in salt air, as if they could be preserved -
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets
𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗
I see you - You sit cross-legged in the old backyard, hair wild, hands stained with dirt and dreams. wearing a skin I no longer guard.
By Lou Holzabout a year ago in Poets
Omer 14 - the 14 winged thing
Be not afraid— 14 wings in movement: the thing which haunted prophets, sages, and poets, the tired, the sleepy, the unnerved.
By Chaia Leviabout a year ago in Poets
Omer 13 - the people’s daughter
The people’s daughter, entering the new world with soot in her eyes, strained vision to find where the rivers converge, only finding the ocean before her and its waves tugging at her feet to return home to the sea calling her back. Whispers and screams carried by cycling wind to and past the veil, carrying her visions, teasing the answers in response through dreamscapes and flora, fauna, lightning strikes. The world speaks — quiet, loud, in tongues and plain language, waiting…waiting for fluency from even one person to carry conversation.
By Chaia Leviabout a year ago in Poets
Is It A Full Moon?
The moon laughs at me outside my window, While I nurse my sore head; In the middle of the night, I found myself upside down!
By Carol Ann Townendabout a year ago in Poets
My vent on love
If I sat with silence and I mean, truly sat, it wouldn’t take long for my mind to commit adultery betraying the stillness,
By Daniel Kabout a year ago in Poets
The Hourglass
You threw it once, hard enough to splinter the glass— the force of your rage painting fractures like frantic lightning frozen mid-bolt
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets