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.
Create a portrait where I smile while I weep
A Portrait of Tears and Smiles Create a portrait where I smile while I weep, Let sorrow be expressed, but not as a spectacle to keep. No thread of dreams should tangle in these eyes, No clear recognition, no face in disguise. Create a portrait where I smile while I weep, Let sorrow be shared, but no performance to reap. If I am worthy, verify it with someone true, Don’t comfort me if my solace feels untrue. However strong your heart, leave it outside your chest, So when it breaks, no ruins stay suppressed. Let anyone live in my eyes on this one condition: No dream should pave the way towards sleep's submission. Whatever bond we share, let it belong to just you and me, Even my bond with you shouldn't trap you in loyalty.
By Muhammad Waseem 2 years ago in Poets
You’ll never return, I had to say
You’ll never return, I had to say, You went far away, as I searched each day. For centuries, in valleys, I waited for you, You came for a moment, smiled, then I searched anew. Through these valleys, with snowflakes that fell, Sparks rained all around, while I searched as well. Nights rolled down into the swamp's deep layers, Days sank into the mire, as I searched in despair. The paths were clouded, but I waited in vain, Centuries scorched the earth, while I searched through the pain. You’ll never return, I had to say, You went far away, as I searched each day.
By Muhammad Waseem 2 years ago in Poets
How can I tell you of my pain?
How can I tell you of my pain? It’s not a story, not so plain. Not a word I can simply write, Not a tale to recite tonight. If wounds they were, I’d lend your care, But scars like these can’t be laid bare. Not a mirror to reflect my plight, For you to see and feel my fight. You ask me, but how can I explain? It’s no secret hidden in a chain. Grief spills over, its burden vast, Like a veil that falls when winds rush past. This weight I carry—how can I share? The aching steps, the heavy air. The load of life upon my frame, Yet onward I walk, all the same. The path ahead, a silent friend, No voice to halt, no time to mend. A search for words to match my grief, But metaphors too fail belief. My heart is captive, trapped by time, Each breath unravels life’s cruel rhyme. Change surrounds, yet chains endure, The thread of pain remains unsure. You think life is fragrant and fair, But you’ve not tasted despair’s despair. You’ve not walked the fields of madness deep, Where centuries of sorrow meet. An unseen melody hums through air, A silent wail, beyond compare. It spreads like dust, a suffocating haze, Binding souls in unending days. Time is ruthless, we all can see, Dancing naked in its decree. Beneath the stars, a burning flame, The whispers of freedom call my name. Yet, staying blind does no one good, Step forth and learn, as you should. See the colours of today’s despair, And how tomorrow’s hopes disappear. People burn in their dreams unmet, With shadows of hunger and unmet debt. In a world of peace that smells of war, People break like waves on a distant shore. Life is no movie for me to show, You’ve asked, but how can I let you know? Nowhere safe, not even trust, Under the weight of loss and dust. The ground we tread, an unseen mine, The night’s decree and day’s decline. Holding torches, we move ahead, While hope flickers, and faith has fled. We dream, though walking blind we stay, Hoping the darkness will fade away. The sun will rise, the ice will melt, And light will conquer the pain we’ve felt. But how can I show you this bloody view, Where doves take flight, their path askew? Come closer now, and I’ll let you see, The scars of time etched deep in me. This world, a shop of tears displayed, Where cries of tomorrow’s hopes have strayed. Lovers tread with dust on their feet, Awaiting time’s cruel, final deceit. How can I tell you, what words can do? Pain isn’t written, it must pass through. Whether it’s mine or yours to bear, A heart feels it—if it truly cares. Once desire rips love’s fragile seam, It can’t be stitched like a broken dream. The sky may bow to kiss the earth, But some stars never align from birth.
By Muhammad Waseem 2 years ago in Poets
Futtock: My F Word
Futtock: one of the curved timbers scarfed together to form the lower part of the compound rib of a ship ~Merriam-Webster My Connection: Although I've never been “to sea”, in my youth, I had a fascination with sailing ships, particularly of the gunship variety. My older brother and I spent countless hours constructing plastic models of historic examples, such as the USS Constitution. We were just a bit obsessive about our research and filled our heads with terms we'd never use, such as futtock. (And I'll bet you thought I chose this one because of the rhyming “B” word.) Hah!
By Dana Crandell2 years ago in Poets
“Laughter is timeless, imagination has no age and dreams are forever".
winter flurries soon will make themselves known, their cold kisses adorning our hair and cheeks little faces upturned to nature's gathering of warmth exchanging it for cold embraces, pets romp as they leap with glee
By Antoni De'Leon2 years ago in Poets
Paradise
There’s a chill in the airSinking into my bonesNothing else quite comparesQuiet, soft and slowCrystallized specks of rain Tapping like revelry Bringing seasonal change Clinging to branches and trees Falling from the skyNot quite rain not yet snow Escaping into the night, To the earth down belowFrom somewhere in a dream Paradise perfectly planned A fabulous flaky scene A soft place to landTender moments of peace Drifting through the airSetting spirits freeWashing away every careFragile icy filmNumbing my fingertips Stirring a grinAs it glides over my lips A sweet childhood sight Resurrected each year Filling hearts with delight And the world with cheer
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 years ago in Poets
