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.

Proper Poet, Proper Prick
Am I a proper poet Or a proper prick Why can't I be both _ Okay so I don't rhyme Not much anyway But that's no crime _
By Paul Stewart5 minutes ago in Poets
Blowing Smoke
Thick white plume gushes from flue pipes, a balcony view. Negative five degrees; I sit. I watch. I think. Blowing smoke sends clouds a confirmation. My cloudy vision readjusts; head nod to cumulus and all things I thought I knew. Furnace breathing system exhales, and I realize false information often misleads me.
By Marilyn Gloverabout an hour ago in Poets
Freedom In Flight
leaves blow in the breeze traveling in parallel to birds taking flight
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout 3 hours ago in Poets
I've Just Eaten Five Slices Of "Bread" - No Joke, Five, And No Butter Was With It, None!
I recall my favourite "croissant" - it had golden brown crusting, chocolate coating - donut filled cream! My mouth ached for the world in-between, and no I've never been a Queen!
By 365poetryabout 3 hours ago in Poets
I Like You - Reasons.. 900 Ways I've Never Understood Men
I like you because your perfume smells nice... But it's not mine it's my uncle's, great grandfather - he purchased it from aunt melrose corner!
By 365poetryabout 5 hours ago in Poets
Where Is The Most Beautiful Rose To Be Found, I'm Looking For This "Valentines" Tree - Do You Know The Muffin Man, Do You?
Over decades I've been trying to explain the same thing! One minute I'm loving the person, the next minute I'm arguing! I'm arguing over the tree, the face, and the hand!
By 365poetryabout 5 hours ago in Poets
IF
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
By Muhammad Haroon khanabout 6 hours ago in Poets
A Prison
you tended the weeds in my garden watched my blooms as they faded away you smiled as my heart slowly hardened another pawn in the game that you played
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdenabout 8 hours ago in Poets
Colder Than a Witch's Teat
Got up the other morning to a god-forsaken sight It had snowed a few inches during the night With the weatherman predicting more
By Mother Combsabout 14 hours ago in Poets
Standard Practice
I have dug my fingers so deep into my arteries That I can taste the hemorrhaging pain of last decade's memories. What a silly little way to pass time, shredding my neurons
By Muhammad Haroon khana day ago in Poets
hard-boiled. Content Warning.
a leap taken diving right into it mixed up in the middle falling through soft mist simmering on the edge of hard-boiled and devilish
By ⸘jason alan‽a day ago in Poets
When the Rain Falls
I. After the rain, will the streets be clear? Or will the waters, deep and dark, sweep everything away? II. If the road’s clear,
By Dean Traylora day ago in Poets