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.

Bleed the Beast. Top Story - March 2025.
Bleed the beast they say But how do I bleed it When it feeds me When it needs me As much as I need it I want to cleave it off
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
What goes through the mind of an empty envelope?
Humans! Aah, the notorious ones gospelled with the prowess of pouring their hearts onto the folds of power, of unleashing the confinement of unsaid pain through the enigmatic flair of woven syllables through the crevices of their glistening minds.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
Legends of tortoise wisdom
The Wise Tortoise and the Golden River Once upon a time, in a vast and ancient jungle, there lived a wise old tortoise named Toba. He was known throughout the land for his patience and wisdom, and many animals often came to seek his advice. Unlike the others who rushed through life, Toba believed in the power of steady persistence.
By Romanus mercy 2 years ago in Poets
Love Poem to a Bipolar Self
I am fixed to this spot, magnifying glass in hand. I have taken inventory of myself and now point the lens to the center of my chest, a slight angle toward the sun. I hold it long enough; a small dot forms, an irritation growing. It feels particular and significant until my eyes relax and the dot bleeds into the reds of my skin.
By kp2 years ago in Poets
Blue Ridge
Find me like the Blue Ridge: Navy haze, carving faults of life. In me, the heart of the Blue Ridge: history in forgotten cobblestone
By Ellie Hoovs2 years ago in Poets
Here I breathe
Here I breathe, Lost, alienated, lonely. There was the land I bequeath, Here I breathe, Not on the soil nor beneath. There I see a gloomy wreath,
By Mehrfam 2 years ago in Poets
Elfin Royalty
Pointed eared beauty With your silver hair flowing Reflecting moonlight 🎑 Royal cheekbones and Eyes of a vibrant dark blue
By Mother Combs2 years ago in Poets
CATALYST
It always takes something or someone to drive change No one wants to give the credit when the change was a positive one, though
By Drea Shakur2 years ago in Poets
untitled and dirtied = existence
it's the dirt, it sticks it's ours, mine, yours, it's old, new it's existential
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
The Crypt
I'm crawling out of this crypt with a heaviness To my bones and soul that wasn't there When I first came down here for a little nap.
By Silver Daux2 years ago in Poets
The Road Back Home (A Prodigal’s Psalm)
[Verse 1] With a sprinkling of dust on my sandals, And with a sack brimming with wealth, I left my father's fields in search of an unknown world.
By Yourd3glamour2 years ago in Poets
Patchwork
I stare at these walls of haphazard rooms filled with mismatch things a life once broken stitched together with bits and pieces
By Ellie Hoovs2 years ago in Poets