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.

On Top Of The World
The brilliant golden sun danced through the clouds, My heart fluttered like a million delicate butterflies fluttering inside of me;
By Carol Ann Townend3 years ago in Poets
Daguerreotypes
A mountain seems to float above The temperatures that ripple Earth below it Layers give the senses a shove You're being crippled and you know it
By Gerard DiLeo3 years ago in Poets
My Death Is Riding High
My death is riding high on five clear clouds It isn’t high enough but it’s stable I feel enveloped in blue-and-white shrouds
By Patrick M. Ohana3 years ago in Poets
Red velvet
why do you cover your eyes when I cry out your name? Are you afraid of the world pulling out the rug from our feet? will you surface from the depths of our smoky, wet, starving sounds to know my depth of feelings for you? I frequently have to pause and reflect on the past because I know it pains you so, yet as we speak masterfully without tongues, it hurts in a good place… knowing we can capture this without having our heartbeats off synch in a clockless world.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
To Be, or Not To Be
To be, or not to be, that is the question —William Shakespeare (Hamlet) * To be, or not to be; that is the question. The only question that encompasses
By Matt B.3 years ago in Poets
Geraniums
Days passed without a shade, Enveloping her very being. She followed the whims of the wind, Searching for a path alien to her.
By Sun Bee3 years ago in Poets
Palate
Pool of honey rests In palate of mouth chamber Take the key from me
By Rowan Finley 3 years ago in Poets
Yearning
Ever yearned for more? I may not be allowed yet, but I yearn for you.
By Rowan Finley 3 years ago in Poets
Thunder In The Sky
A great big roar, A flash of light, The heavens create a beautiful sight. Darkness; The crashing of drums all around, My voice dares to make a sound.
By Carol Ann Townend3 years ago in Poets
Bitter Greens
Bitter greens Slithering unseen Through my dreams A strenuous subcutaneous existence Complaisance in a crime of the mind
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
Praises to the lips
Hidden under the covers, Pink the flesh . Pink the lovers. Sethe as a bud waits to be bloom, Touch through the fingers, Long caresses short lingers.
By Sayaam Harz3 years ago in Poets
My Love With Her Crystal Stare
I have a lady, she is fair; her stare a crystal gaze And why looking deep into her eyes would trap you in amaze If milk and honey were under her tongue
By Josephis K. Wade3 years ago in Poets