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.

Sacred Promises
we pay tribute to it in our silence we honor the loss, with a life continue to live by your guidance wash the pain with the tears that we cry
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden4 months ago in Poets
Invitations
he stood in the doorway and yelled up at me ARE YOU READY TO GO? it was a quarter to three I screamed, mind your business
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden4 months ago in Poets
Let Me Say It Again
never again! I cried slamming the door will I ever believe the lies you told before I’ll never give you my heart or bear to you
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden4 months ago in Poets
My Psalm
Windows closed in a stuffy room, hiding from the light Finding the darkest corner so I cower out of sight. I count my failures while trying to nurse every scar,
By Harydo Neon4 months ago in Poets
Living Broken
i woke up this morning to find the world had changed when my feet touched the floor my whole body felt strange i made it to the door
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden4 months ago in Poets
Where Are You Now?
Where are your now? I call, I cry, Beneath the earth, above the sky. I searched for you in heaven's light, And wandered deep in hell's own night.
By Vincent Hale4 months ago in Poets
Order Is Over
a match unprepared needs struck for igniting i see flames in the air, but still can't smell the sulfur the devil and the details are forever fighting
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden4 months ago in Poets
Six Degrees Of Separation
it seems as close as my own shadow this feeling, nestling in my bones but my eyes always fail to follow in this room here all alone
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden4 months ago in Poets
Untold Stories
A coworker asked why I have the same drink In that old koozie, on my desk, everyday I did the best I could to answer her quickly
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden4 months ago in Poets
Blowing It
finding comfort in the abstraction dissociating from the reaction 🔥💠📌💠🔥 everything I’ve ever known crushed to frit
By K.B. Silver 4 months ago in Poets
Red Flags And Butterflies
you went out for cigarettes and convinced me that you’re not a smoker and although I haven’t gotten it yet you say, I’ll understand when I get older
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden5 months ago in Poets
THE KEY. Top Story - May 2026.
I wrote this poem in 1968 sitting in my room of orange shag carpet, bright blue walls, I wrote this in 1968 after the 1967 Summer of Love. I TYPED ON AN ELECTRIC TYPEWRITER back then. Here are the papers from then, in cursive writing, So when anyone is checking for AI I have the papers.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 5 months ago in Poets