Long Surreal Poems
Long Surreal Poems. Below are the most popular long Surreal by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Surreal poems by poem length and keyword.
Nakedness is seen
by a coscience in conflict;
nakedness is the fear
of hearts shunning their guilt...
It will be incredibly beautiful
to gently fall in a deep sleep,
hop on one of those clouds and float
on a lovely,unending and surreal dream...
Like Adam and Eve,
we'll be completly alone and safe;
innocent and unaware
of our own nakedness:
to wander off into the wilderness
with Guardian Angels on our side...
Wouldn't it be an awful pity
to lose all that is blessed,good and nice
for taking somebody's else wrong advice
and be found unworthy of joy?
It will be conceivably easy
to ascape from reality:
only loving ourselves timelessly;
thinking of happy thoughts
as we contemplate the endless stars
that that seem to welcome our sensuality...
Wouldn't it be wonderful
to be so thankful
to the Mighty Lord,
and to trust in His promise of prosperity...
than to be defeated by misery?
Nakedness is considered sleazy and lame
by eyes that are lascivious and unholy;
nakedness is felt conspicuously
when we stare at our naked bodies in shame...
When the road is a gypsies ribbon and the trees dance with the wind
The nights hours fade to memorie. Embracing the Carnal sins.
Two succubus hands provoke my senses. For wine has their control.
I deny their actions and offenseses. Cleansing my harden soul.
To my eyes they appear angelic. Like sapphires amidst moonlight.
I admire them like relics. Only for the night.
I bring them to my house to sleep their demons away.
They want something else. Pulling me astray.
I lay their figures on clouds of white. My bed is large and grand.
Both scratch, claw, and bite. With promises engraved in sand.
Finally ending their sharade. They fall asleep together
Really wanting to get laid. I sustained the tempest weather.
When the rays seep through. Waking weary eyes.
I witness it too! A maroon sunrise.
Breakfast is waiting on the gentile stool.
Kind smells are baiting for their appitiets are cruel.
After eating they slip away to their home of family hood.
Fully contemplating the way I fully understood.
Later amongst our peers and friends. The ladies convey my trust.
Drawing near favorites and kin. For a savage lust.
I see them in everything
they're invisible with no form
My body is touched by feelings
it makes my skin crawl
I hear their whispers unending
yet silence is their voice
I breathe deeply but smell nothing
It is the sense of death
I can taste only dry metal
or at least I thought
They make me count the experience
to try to keep me calm
Calm...
To try to keep me calm
they make me count the experience
Or at least I thought
I can taste only dry metal
It is the sense of death
I breathe deeply but smell nothing
Yet silence is their voice
I hear their whispers unending
It makes my skin crawl
my body is touched by feelings
They're invisible with no form
I see them in everything
He keeps time
in the front of his hat,
a clock that ticks sideways
and only when it wants to.
The books beneath him
lean like secrets,
each spine a doorway
he’s already wandered through
and rearranged.
He laughs softly,
as if the world
is a riddle he solved
years ago
and misplaced the answer
on purpose.
His silk hat glows
with borrowed moonlight.
His shadow stretches
longer than logic.
And his smile~
that crooked invitation~
suggests that madness
is simply wonder
without its manners.
If there’s a message,
it’s hidden in the ticking:
time isn’t the master
of Wonderland.
It’s just another guest
at the Hatter’s table,
pouring tea
into the wrong cup
and pretending
it meant to.
We learn to pray by praying. We can spend hours studying other people's experiences, but nothing is more vivid than an individual's prayer and its heavenly response. By Poet
The night sky was utterly dazzling with the stars' awry.
Breeze clasps surreal trees and lifts solemn blights.
I could hear my name being shouted from on high.
With a stunning show of a billion-plus lights.
Whimsically roving soul in luxurious zenith oozing.
The rivers and oceans merge with the spire's fusing.
Heaven's waves strive to mix with seraphic infusing.
Should my essence not combine with the divine?
The cliffs kiss the lofty sky, and the rivers shine.
No rose can be saved if it loathes its own whine.
A gilded, serene grace, adorns bliss and joy's way.
There are no tears or pain, only timeless rapture sites.
Vast relics of divine life, still sing duets and musing.
Heaven is an exalting golden sea of canticles on the line.
1St place contest winner
Written: February 25, 2023
Writing Challenge -H Words - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
This poem form is the Fragmented Rhyme invented and Conceived by Constance La France. It has 14 lines with indentation, and a rhyme scheme, as follows: ABABCCCDDDABCD
Gonna let you all in on a little secret
My real name isn't Jack at all
Charles is the name I was christened with
A late change caused a huge falderal
My seven older sisters ended up in a furor
A last minute change by my dad
Didn't go over well with the seven of them
So this joyful event became sad
His reason for making this last minute change
Was to honour his brother Charley
Who died a big hero in the first World War
Sisters thought the change was too tardy
So they decided to call me Jack anyway
In spite of dad's last minute switch
His reason for making this admirable change
Wasn't reason to change their wish
So keep on calling me Jack my good friendies
It's stuck with me for 87 years
If you call me Charles, I can certainly guarantee
Won't answer unless I've had too many beers!
True story!
write yourself a raspberry omelette,
whispered the wife of a shrilling dentist
but the husband stood aghast in haste
entrance to the shrine in the middle of marble lake
acted as luxury, as a ravishing wraith
when out of nowhere - the restless stranger
came to the dwelling during a fork fight
from the waning glade to undid the anguish
and redeem all the throbbing days of the phoenix
lingering under the pitiless pillar
the tremulous intruder cut from the crescent moon
mostly ghostly, he violated violence
and snatched white tangled wisp from clouds
selfish like some unloved changeling
the phoenix has risen
and the dome melted to marble puddle
“Floating on prayer hymn the journey isn’t construed amiss,
it takes life through the stillness of soul to the bay of bliss.” – Quote by Poet
The unique landscape of life mesmerizing,
shrouded by the serene seclusion screen,
spreads the sensation of surreal stillness,
swathes me as I wander on my lonely journey.
The rippling breeze of spring beguiling,
captivates me with its charming cadence.
My essence roaming in the tranquility terrain,
gets suffused with the aura of rhapsody.
I walk on the fawn forest path meandering
through the shadow of the ancient trees,
shedding the wilted golden foliage of the fall
at the end of their verdant time.
My footsteps crumple the pile of leaves rustling,
making the morose music of aloneness
for my timeless journey within,
I am yet to finish.
At the sunset time trickling away unrelenting,
I saunter at the periphery of my livid landscape
toward the hazy horizon of obscurity,
to reach the eternal sanctum of serenity.
Flushed by the final flash of twilight tinge enthralling,
I am walking the last mile
on the remnant time-track to be traveled,
for the desolate journey in the domain of destiny.
________________
March 5, 2023
Word Chosen : Journey
Contest : Writing Challenge - "J" Words
Sponsored by : Constance La France
"Remember, hope is a good thing, maybe the
best of things and no good thing ever dies."
Quote by _Stephen King
I dream
and it always begins the same
I am floating in a surreal ocean
and can see no shore
there is a deep silence
until ... I hear voices calling me
their voices
floating like waves
voices of all my beloved family gone above
still connected to me
in dreams
they give me hope
oh, my baby boy is crying
I guess he will never grow up in heaven
mom ... hold him for me
press him to your heart
my love ... how I still love you
your death too sudden it still hurts
daddy I miss you so much
grandma wish you could tell me a story
grandpa you always make me smile
sister you left me too soon
I hope, hope and pray
I can dream this dream always, ever
for it keeps the voices alive in my heart
for without them ... my life is empty
a void
I collect all my dream memories
in a glass jar
a collection of hope that never dies
my wish to pen poems until my very end
for they are the story of my life and of them
and if I cannot because I am withered old
I will write them in my head
or in my dreams
I hope God will take my hand in his
and lead me home to you
when it is time
until then ... I dream, I dream of you
and all the deep love and hope we shared
Awake!
Rise with the dawn breeze
Feel the cool soft squeeze
Awake!
Don't slip into sleep
Heed wise matters deep
Awake!
At dawn you can see
Come and go like me
Awake!
Watch how souls move fast
Watch each first and last
Awake!
The portals now swing
Between two worlds fling
Awake!
See the sublime truth
See the sublime proof
Awake!
Before it's too late
Know the surreal gate
Awake!
Sense the twin worlds found
Souls go round and round
Awake!
Love is never late
Rise to meet your fate
Awake!
Wit knows sad old grief
Play feels cheer not brief
Awake!
Feel that cool soft squeeze
Tell all in dawn breeze
Awake!
Don't go back to sleep
Where nightmare haunt deep
Leon Enriquez
29 July 2017
Singapore