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.

Not All Death is Physical
Not all death is physical Sometimes “living” is nothing more than a ritual A thing we do to get through the day Dragging ourselves from one event to another
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
She’ll Rule Her Space
She answered the call of her wildest side, The savage that beat within the walls of her heart, her hardest ride, The energy gifted from her blooded birth that caused many to hide,
By Colleen Millsteed 3 years ago in Poets
i dream of bears . Content Warning.
What if I told you, last night, I fought off a bear? You had just been pulled from the lake. You still had algae in your hair
By Trinity H3 years ago in Poets
happily
everyone told me to dream of being a princess with a crown billowing veils of lace and glass shoes that pinch your toes.
By Sara 3 years ago in Poets
My Hallways Sing Sorrows
Hairs rise, light quivers The floorboards creak, hallways howl Each step brings shivers ~ This haunted haiku is brought to you by Vocal + Assist's weekly spooky month challenges! We wanted to do something simple yet engaging to spark some creative thinking. This past week's key word was: shivers.
By Oneg In The Arctic3 years ago in Poets
No
No KFC No MSG No CFC No bat No CCP No MCG No AFL No splat No GFC No XTC No ABC No fat No LSD No QED No OED No matte
By Bren3 years ago in Poets
The Nytol Nightcap
We're only making plans for Nytol As the Teasmade whirs and cricket scores drone He dreams of truncheons and bounders galore While Parliament rambles on and on
By Tanya Doolin3 years ago in Poets
daily shadows
everything looks different during the day less shadows, more hope in your blue eyes mixed with mine – lush greenery overwhelming ordinary storefronts;
By Sun Bee3 years ago in Poets
about the art of writing II
rejected by the whole world avoided on purpose ‘are you a writer?’ they always ask ‘yes I am’ ‘I will never read you then’
By Sun Bee3 years ago in Poets
Drought on the Pacific
For this to be fair, Before scorned, hide, and erred, before one’s costs. The scent of pine binds like an ancient swell. A chorus of leaves gently sway,
By Sen3 years ago in Poets
Eyes For Murder
Mesmerizing tunes Ravens patiently watch, as death waits at your door * * https://vocal.media/poets/eerie-escape
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden3 years ago in Poets
Failures
The waning moon’s rise. I lay empty and broken. Another failure. /// The waning moon’s new sun rises. I lay empty and broken,
By Matthew J. Fromm3 years ago in Poets