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.

A.R. Marquez12 hours ago
Surrounded in Stardust
Our veins pulse and writhe. Details of our existence in close proximity. The music we create is the heaven you are recalling. The poetry we write is the scripture you've become inebriated with. When w...
Tata Ferguson13 hours ago
Empathic Lamentation
A poem written from the heart of an empathic soul. This world is sick. A swollen, festering tick. My insides reel at the way it feels To walk among you each and every day. You can’t hide behind that m...
Anthony Ferrer15 hours ago
Asylum
Asylum. Empty pages about empty stages and empty cages where the freak show once was. Empty stares and empty fairs without any cares of what once was. Empty lights and empty flights of stairs that lea...
Ghost G.17 hours ago
Pocket Watch
Somewhere between, The minute and hour hands, I found him sleeping in the river. He seemed too peaceful on the foam from the waterfall, But yet when he stirred I became afraid. His hands, Like window ...
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Summer Hall3 days ago
Fear
Some people fear what they cannot see, for if it's not there, how could they believe? But, if this were true, then what of love? You cannot see words, so how could they be enough? But then, what is th...
Erney Fertile3 days ago
Things as They Are...
Speculative Thought - 7.14.18 I sit in my room, typing away at the screen that stares back at me in silence, oblivious of all the things that I should be worried about. Time passes by with no regard f...
Katie Harder3 days ago
Remember.
Remember: We remember certain things because details stick out to us, and that's why we remember it. When someone is high, they usually don't remember too much, but that is because everything stands o...
Tinderella
I loop my fingers through worn strings and control my puppet. She crafts a profile of her best selves, her trap set carefully behind her painted mask. Picturesque prey pass by in a blur, clawing for a...
Katie Harder4 days ago
End Percent
I wake up at 100%. Then something happens, and next thing I know: The number gets lower and lower. And time gets slower and slower. And it's counting down, we're running out, Out of time, out of mind....
J A Miller4 days ago
Barely
Hard work with no pay. Limping with a fleshy peg leg. Tough labor with aches at the fingertips. A small heated space. Living check to check. Picking up pennies barely hanging with a weak grip. No job ...
Dan Falkovich6 days ago
Sad: Okay
your persistence defines you for who you really are. it is the property of matter that makes up every part of you. without persistence, you would be nothing. you would cease to exist, as many of us al...
Dan Falkovich7 days ago
I Am Not a Writer
I am not a writer. I am a thinker. my mind is a pencil, and my thoughts are the paper. I write not for others, but myself as a whole. as for me, my thoughts are nothing but crucial. but for you, my th...
Ayesha Javed7 days ago
Sing to You, I Sing, a Little Lullaby
Sing to you, I sing, a little lullaby. While I cradle your gentle existence in my arms. Sing to you, my baby, a little lullaby. Cradle you firm, to keep away from harm. Listen to the story mama has to...
A.R. Marquez8 days ago
We'll Make the World Explode
Hand in hand. Aura to aura. We'll acquire the strength to antagonize the Earth. Our essence compile to rid the palisades. Pieces of our lives that we once had before float through the dense air. Pushe...
Andrew Arnett9 days ago
Slow Train
Toxic factory spewing chain smoking ashes in your face. throw a wrench into the machine and see what happens. fun times in the field of land mines. it was another horrible wall in the face but with a ...
Heroin
All the people are perfect & your body is filled with lilacs and silk. It’s like he finally stopped hurting you, even though you can tell he didn’t (by the track marks on your arms.) The loneliest dre...
r. nuñez9 days ago
Tantibus II
I try to make the best of nightmares; they are not inconvenient, really, for they happen in one’s sleep. And the lingering images give me something to write about. A shadow passes over me; It brings a...
Logan Solo11 days ago
Templar Rain
“Why dost thou fret?” inquired the knight Behind his colored shield “Thy face is long, thy eyes as cold As this sword that I wield.” “I’m sad, sir knight.” I then replied My heart did weigh like stone...