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.
Uranus
First place means nothing. You were already at the finish line. Too stubborn to follow the path, you carved out your own. Radicalized in anarchy, you loved a riot in society. The wind carried you to whatever experiment you designed. The world lay dormant but you built a new one. How can I define a wanderer? You attach to any velcro, you pull on any string. You come and go as you please. You're the non-conformist when there's nothing to rebel against. You're the resistance in a utopia. You're not as abstract as you claim to be. There's no surprise in your theories. There is no tradition to break again. You're no psychic, you're not eccentric. You're nothing special, just a mimic of a person. You wouldn't like what you really are if you ever looked. You're an idea of reflection. There's no explaining you. You are misunderstood. You are condescending. You will spiral into a vortex and come out brand new on the other side. Did you ever really exist? Does it even matter?
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Poets
Exsanguinate. Top Story - December 2023. Content Warning.
Blood gushed from her Never-healing wounds She was a fountain of blood Her eyeballs on their skewers Dipped into her blood Blinded her from the truth ~~~~~ Blood type O, Universal Donor So they let her bleed Stuck in this barbarous cycle They dipped into her blood Both seriatim and all at once They took and took and TOOK ~~~~~ She was already an anaemic But they exsanguinated her She shrivelled up, had nothing left Her saviour complex saved them But it didn't save her from them Solipsistic vampires
By Dharrsheena Raja Segarran3 years ago in Poets
Moon
There's too many sides to you. Bipolar deceiver, you're too unpredictable. Like a cancer spreading across a fertile landscape, a new phase will arrive. Mysterious lover, what personality are you today? What beautiful sins lie on our doorstep? What beautiful tragedy awakens us again? You're a pillar in the sky. You're a rocky surface. I couldn't reach the bottom even if I tried. Method metamorphosis. Epic transformation. Lunacy is out on the prowl. I hope I can find you underneath all the oil in the well. We surface dwellers wonder where to dig. Your skeletons are ancient. You are one with the dead
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Poets
Jupiter
You're volatile. Elements and asteroids are your friends. I've seen lightning shudder in fear. Friction and static surround you and so do all of your eclipses. You've got the ego the size of a planet. I've handled your fury for longer than I should. Satellites obey your whims. Gravity orbits your flaws. You have enough selfishness to outlast us both. You've struck down your competition and played both sides of the field. You're spontaneous and I've grown to loathe it. I always circle back no matter how cruel, no matter how aggressive, no matter how shackled I truly am. You want to be free but you can't get rid of me. You're no philosopher, you're a miscalculation. You're no secret admirer, just a seeker of validation. I can't hold you back, I can't hold you down. You need your freedom but I will never have mine
By Anna Torres3 years ago in Poets
