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.
The Ritual.
Vocal, I'm only adding this edit to the beginning because it won't let me resubmit it without any edits. Please don't refuse approval for this again and say it's detected as spam or undisclosed A.I. It is neither. I spent hours sat at my desk abusing the absolute hell out of a thesaurus to find a way to put this together properly and convey what I was trying to while using the Abcdearian format for the challenge. It is not A.I. it is hours of racking my brain and flicking through a book constantly.
By Tommy Ballard3 years ago in Poets
"A MYRIAD OF DANGLING CONVERSATIONSOF LIFE"
The video was edited and created by the author. The text messages were created by the author to herself to represent the actual texting in today's society. Photography by the author. Music by the author. Drawings by Bing A.I.. Story was written by the author. Any representation of characters and photos to real persons are coincidental.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 3 years ago in Poets
𝕬 𝕿ête-à-𝕿ête 𝖂ith 𝕹ature !
𝕬midst those valleys of windflowers umpteen and,𝕭etween those boudoirs of bucolic scenes𝕮almly lain is my “La Grange" serene 𝕯ressed so green ; all decked to be redeemed …it’s there…where…𝕰xquisite in splendors casts surreptitiousness supreme 𝕱or in that silence, I read of that, which is unforeseen 𝕲oing as far and as it c'd be totally weened…𝕳eavenly—unto which, such sacredness convenes, and where…𝕴n faintest whispers cedars sing…𝕵ust on course, a tender tendril comes swishing in; 𝕶issing humming hopes over those enchanted rings𝕷ying here and there, are trails of celestial screens𝕸arvelous as beyond , nobody’s seen…𝕹ot as far over those seas of bluebonnets terrine,𝕺, Originating from plummets in tides of deep-blues over sea- greens, and 𝕻ristine is peace lingering over those regaling themes…𝕼uintessential it is to any reapers’ glean,𝕽idden in faint fragrances, there’s acharm in each dwelling, 𝕾liding with the winds, raptured over swaying strings, ‘𝕿was on point, beholding magical themes —from this land to that turf of glistening gleams,𝖀shering graces lain across in early spring𝖁enturing further on, 𝖂ith primroses and horsemints lain across every scene,𝖃-traordinary, 𝖄et, as yonder’s, 𝖅enith, O! so pristine!
By Madhu Goteti 3 years ago in Poets
