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.
Lost in the Labyrinth of Your Gaze:
Lost in the Labyrinth of Your Gaze: A Love Story Unraveled by Secrets and Starlight In the tapestry of twilight, where shadows pirouette, Your eyes, twin constellations, lure me with untold tales. A thousand whispered secrets shimmer in their depths, A celestial map beckoning towards uncharted galaxies. My heart, a moth drawn to a forbidden flame, Flutters recklessly, wings singed by desire's embrace. We waltz amidst fireflies, their phosphorescent whispers Drowning in the symphony of unspoken promises. But beneath the velvet cloak of starry nights, Lurk enigmas veiled in moonlight's gentle deceit. Each brush of your fingertips, a cryptic hieroglyph, Each smile, a labyrinthine riddle whispered bittersweet. We chase echoes through moonlit corridors, Ghosts of memories haunting forgotten dreams. Your laughter, a siren's song, unravels my resolve, Leading me deeper into the maze of what-ifs and it-seems. With each stolen glance, a tapestry unravels, Threads of truth spun with silvered lies. Your touch, a brushstroke of lightning on my skin, Ignites forbidden constellations in my burning eyes. We dance on the precipice of unspoken fears, Teetering between surrender and retreat. The velvet touch of dawn paints the horizon gold, A cruel reminder of love's bittersweet defeat. In the hush of daybreak, secrets unfurl like vengeful vines, Twisting around our hearts, choking out the light. The labyrinthine gaze I craved now reveals its sting, A web of deception cast under starlight's gentle white. Like fallen stars, our dreams lie shattered on the ground, Fractured prisms reflecting love's fractured face. The echo of your laughter, a fading memory's sound, Haunts the empty chambers of this desolate space. Yet, even in the ashes of betrayal's pyre, A spark of defiance flickers, refusing to die. For in the labyrinth of your gaze, I glimpsed a truth, A love woven from stardust, too radiant to deny. So I rise, a phoenix from the flames of your deceit, My tattered wings mended with threads of self-belief. The secrets you veiled become constellations to chart, A map for navigating love's treacherous relief. No longer lost in the maze of your elusive eyes, I forge my own path, bathed in starlight's guiding grace. The labyrinth you built becomes a canvas, where I rise, Painting a love story etched in moonlight's whispered embrace. Though our paths may diverge, and your secrets remain untold, The starlight we shared paints memories in gold. Lost in the labyrinth of your gaze, I found myself anew, A love story unraveled, yet woven ever true.
By Zmeyo Nikolaiev3 years ago in Poets
Stained Glass Hearts, Fractured by Moonlight:
Stained Glass Hearts, Fractured by Moonlight: A Symphony of Shadows and Kisses In moonlit whispers, where cobblestone tears stain, Luminous memories, like shattered windows, pane by pane. Our hearts, once cathedrals – kaleidoscopes of grace, Fractured by the silver blade of fate's cold embrace. Each shard, a prism etched with vows whispered low, Reflecting ghosts of laughter, where shadows ebb and flow. Sunsets painted amethyst, dreams on feathered wings, Now lie in tatters, whispers on forgotten strings. But even shattered jewels, in moonlight's soft caress, Reveal a symphony of colors, secrets to confess. In amethyst we grieve, in azure memories burn, And crimson whispers tales of love's forbidden turn. Through fissures, moonlight spills, illuminating scars, A tapestry of shadows woven with broken stars. Each fragment holds a whisper, a tear, a silent plea, Echoes of passion's embers, dancing through eternity. We trace the cracks with fingertips, a map of what we've lost, Each jagged edge a story, a battle waged at any cost. The scent of moonlit roses, clinging to the night, Haunted by a phantom touch, a phantom's fading light. Yet, in the hush of dawn, when darkness fades to grey, A fragile hope emerges, kissed by the break of day. For even fractured rainbows, in sunlight's gentle grace, Reveal a hidden spectrum, a promise on our face. We gather shards of longing, each facet etched with pain, And mend them with forgiveness, like whispers in the rain. Mosaic memories, pieced together, one by one, A testament to love that shines when all is done. But moonlight shadows linger, whispers etched in glass, A reminder of the tempest that shattered what would last. No two shards the same, each scar a testament to fight, Yet woven in the starlight, they shimmer with new light. For love, like fractured rainbows, defies all earthly laws, Blooming through the darkness, stronger than the flaws. And in the symphony of shadows, where kisses softly fall, Our broken hearts, stained glass windows, will rise above it all. So let the moonlight paint our scars with silvered grace, Each fragment a reminder of love's enduring embrace. We'll dance among the shadows, bathed in lunar glow, Where stained glass hearts, once shattered, learn to rise and grow. And whispers on the wind, through fractured panes will sigh, A symphony of shadows, where broken hearts still fly. For even love in ruins, holds beauty unforeseen, A radiant mosaic, kissed by moonlight's silver sheen.
By Zmeyo Nikolaiev3 years ago in Poets
Drippy Walls
I like ice-cream, but when the walls drip like ice cream on a cone in the hot summer days it makes me feel disgusted. When I watch the drip I gag, but I then realize that without the drip in this four cornered small room, the wallpaper would be so thin and perplex.
By Aubrie Belle 3 years ago in Poets
