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.
merry (2)
I spent about 15 minutes coming up with an idea. I took one thing that each of my family members likes to do. For instance, my mom loves to cook so I drew a chef’s hat. And my little brother loves to play soccer so I drew a little soccer ball. I made sketches for each one of their interests. Now that I was done brainstorming, I went to the front of the class where the materials were and picked up the origami ornament cutouts. I had drawn the sketches on here now and traced over them with a sharpie.
By Robbie Bale3 years ago in Poets
merry (3)
I love my art class. It's like my little sanctuary away from everybody else in the school. Nobody that is in this class is fake. Everybody just vibes. It's like my home away from home. I love my art teacher so much. She makes everyone feel like they’re somebody. Makes everybody feel like you can be something in this world. She really helps me embrace my creativity. Every time that I go to art class, I never want to leave. I wish I could stay here all day. But of course that can't happen because it doesn't work like that.
By Robbie Bale3 years ago in Poets
out my window (4)
“Hey ma’am is everything okay? I noticed you from my window and I just came down to see if I could help.” This lady looked a few years older than me. She must have just been passing through from a neighboring city trying to get to work that morning. She explained to me that her tire went flat and that she needed some help putting on the donut. She was very attractive and I just couldn't say no, so of course I had to help her. I ran upstairs to get my tool bag and got ready to get to work.
By Robbie Bale3 years ago in Poets
out my window (5)
It didn't take that long to put the donut tire on, and it really was no big deal. I was actually happy to help. I was feeling good today. And I guess I was also feeling good enough to ask the lady for a number. She was so pretty I just couldn't help it. I wooed her over and she gave the number to me. I might take her out to dinner some night. She starts the car up and drives to work. Hopefully she called a body shop so she can get a new tire. What a good start to the morning.
By Robbie Bale3 years ago in Poets
out my window (3)
If you look out my window, it's facing the street of my block. So you can see everybody's houses. See all the neighbors, see kids walking to school, people walking their dogs, etc. But as I was looking out this morning, I noticed a person that I didn't recognize. Their car was parked right across the street from my house, and it looked like they were in a bind. I am a Good Samaritan. So, I put my slippers on to go outside and see what the problem is, see if I can help this person out with their problem.
By Robbie Bale3 years ago in Poets
out my window (2)
But of course, I had to snap back to reality. I woke up and laid in my bed for a few minutes. ready to start the day. I got out of bed, put my slippers on which were lying right next to my nightstand and got my stretches in. I didn't feel groggy either like I usually do when I don't get enough sleep. I take a look out of my window and the sun is coming up. It's a nice day. No clouds in the sky. I see birds flying around and fall is just around the corner, so the leaves are starting to turn pinkish-red. It's my time of the year.
By Robbie Bale3 years ago in Poets
out my window (1)
I love waking up from a long night's sleep. Feeling very refreshed from the day before. I did a lot of exhausting stuff yesterday, so the fact that I got to bed early enough to have a good amount of sleep is very pleasing to me. I had a crazy dream last night. I was playing soccer with my friends, and I missed a few goals. I came back and scored the game winner, and my crush was in the dream with me, and she gave me a little kiss. I thought it was real life, that's how good the dream was.
By Robbie Bale3 years ago in Poets
Why not!
In this park, There are two sides one is cold and dark filled with ducks the monotony of dark blue in it reveals the sadness like an ocean-deep cry or maybe a scream of anger from Him all covered in an unrealistic unemotional smile a strange doze of happiness no joyfulness
By Antea Lumina Kala Matylda 3 years ago in Poets
