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.

Jesemynn Cacka3 hours ago
Wormy Goddess
The moon shook me from my sleep, Slid tendrils of silver shine through strategic cracks in shoddy blinds. Wispy fingers slither underneath my lids, Prying open already loose shutters. Early morning, w...
Walls
Walls with no windows tall thick and strong. Walls so old, walls that have been up for so long. So long no one knows why they were built or what they protect. Barriers keeping in, keeping out, and the...
Tumble Dry on Low
Someone put a coin in my ear, Heard it clank on the graveyard piles of quarters In the depths of my gut. Shut my jaw, pinched my nose, Selected Tumble Dry on Low. A mechanical whirl of hiccups and swi...
Amie Lockhart3 days ago
Can You See My World?
Can you see my world? It’s black, it’s white, it’s blue. Every color lives here but at the same time, they don’t. Living here in my memories I say I’m lonely and I yearn for the aching touch of light ...
Keegan Roembke3 days ago
Burnt Orange Train
I wandered around the old streets alone Squared like a chessboard stripped of its hues Set in weathered brown against the sky’s navy blue I thought about when we lived on that slow-moving train Washin...
Matthew Mikituk5 days ago
My Living Hell
The needle punctured my fleshy bruised skin, Another missed vein a source of my agony. Tried yet again and connected for the win, My perception of now a slow dying reality. The warmth of a cocktail co...
Rowan Finley5 days ago
A Piece of Precipice Pie
Adventure, a manly quest you desired, climbing up, climbing up...you transpired. You touched rocks of fame and fortune too, you knew you'd get there if you fought hard and true. Many a cut hands and l...
CS
Carlie Smith6 days ago
Death by Choice
Flip a switch Subdue a perpetual twitch Iron chains trail Endlessly hitched Lying on a frozen grave Tossing and grieving Drowning in bereaved Desperate cries for closed eyes Shielded darkness to remed...
Sharita Cormier7 days ago
Unequivocal in a Temporal Memory
Bound by the unentitled opinion of educated guesses Torn at the seams of a unmastered skilled world As if you were veiled in a twisted storm Unconnected bolts of electrical arcing Trying to capture fr...
Jason Giecek9 days ago
A Dream Burned to the Ground
A city, That savage tribe, Sitting back, Gently holding their eager eyes shut, The impenetrable blackness lulling them into a false sleep, A fantastic dream, To catch eagerly, To hold tenaciously, To ...
Kat Garcia12 days ago
Demons Await
In the middle of the night I stay awake Eyes wide open until the day breaks Cuz when I go to sleep I’m in another place Sucked by darkness as the demons wait Close my eyes and I’m paralyzed All my dem...
Darcy Kerrigan12 days ago
Little Owl Clock
“It’s okay to sleep in,” The little owl clock said to her. Its fake owl eyes bouncing back, and forth back, and forth and back with the seconds. Owls are wise, especially this one. It comforted the sl...
What’s On Your Mind?
What's on your mind? Is what Facebook asks Ok, Facebook... We'll gladly, take on this task This is what I'm cookin'... This is how I'm lookin' Damn, here's another video, of somebody twerkin'... This ...
Allyson Allen13 days ago
Letter to the Dope Man
PLEASE STOP YOUR DEALING PLEASE STOP IT NOW, I KNOW U CAN FIND ANOTHER WAY OF LIVING SOME WAY SOME HOW. U THINK U GOT IT GOING ON WITH ALL YOUR MONEY AND YOUR FANCY GOLD, BUT ONE DAY YOUR OWN MOTHER M...
Michael Grube13 days ago
The Song the Siren Sings
Tales and Myth voice the evil of the shore sirens, and How they would lure sailors to the rocky cliffs. As Time went on the legend faded into memory, Forgetting how many perished from their sweet song...
Tori Enamorado13 days ago
Sleep
My body doesn't know what it means to sleep I've grown to see it as a privilege A privilege I don’t have I must stay awake at night There aren't enough hours in the day to be able to do everything we ...
Rowan Finley14 days ago
The Art of Being Broken
The Art of Being Broken The Act of Having Spoken Must Admit that it is Hard Hearts are Charred Speak and Be Known Speak and Be Grown Bare Your Shattered HeartThis...This is a True Start It's Okay to N...
Rowan Finley14 days ago
Lymerik
My Gift was that I could sing beautifully and play any instrument known to man, but my Curse was that I could not hear any of it. Notes flew melodically and gracefully. Children stopped to listen, mes...