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.
The House Fire
Ashes fell from above. I blinked once - slowly. Heavy smoke hampered my vision - making my eyes water. I felt restrained - my breath caught in my chest.
Haggar BenPublished 4 months ago in PoetsNostradamus
Nostradamus is nauseating I wish I was just hating But the closest to this gnosis Is something between hypnosis and psychosis
Atomic HistorianPublished 4 months ago in PoetsIntrusive Thoughts
Intrusive thoughts are usually quickly forgot Unless you’re me Then you write them down For all to see Let them bleed
Atomic HistorianPublished 4 months ago in PoetsCrazy Hair
Miss crazy hair Why do you ask why I stare I’m always looking at the beauty Beneath that crazy hair Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @AtomicHistorian. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
Atomic HistorianPublished 4 months ago in PoetsPretty Little Things
Pretty little things Soft like heather on wings Shifting ever so slightly Hips sashay in the wind Begging you to come in
Atomic HistorianPublished 4 months ago in PoetsA Novel Poem
How absurd What a novel idea To think that your idea can’t be both What poetic injustice To think we can’t do both What kind of host
Atomic HistorianPublished 4 months ago in PoetsPsychedelic World 1997 part one
Psychedelic world was written at a time the original version and this one as well was written at a time when I was listening to a lot of boy George and culture club during their 1997 reunion tour.
RIKKI LA ROUGE (UK) (London)Published 4 months ago in PoetsLiminality
Name a New Year's Day that was anything more than prosaic, I ask myself, untethered ~ bloated and waiting to bleed, like a nasty papercut wrapped in a
Our Yearly Ride...
In the dance of the year, January bestows resolutions, As dreams and goals unfurl with February's contributions. March whispers hope in the moonlit night,
Ebony tears
In the deep shadows of midnight, Where the ebony cries his lament, Dark tears, like the scourge itself, I weave a grey poem.
Eduarda RodriguesPublished 4 months ago in PoetsNight Sighs
Under the night cloak, where the shadows dance, Sighs echo in the breeze, like a lament. The moon, silent witness to forbidden romance, Uncover secrets in the night’s sighs.
Eduarda RodriguesPublished 4 months ago in Poetsthough innocence gone
when innocence was the world seemed lighter, hopeful when worries did not plague me the world seemed brighter, happier that was fleeting
Paul StewartPublished 4 months ago in Poets