Long Surrealism Poems
Long Surrealism Poems. Below are the most popular long Surrealism by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Surrealism poems by poem length and keyword.
i need to stop frowning and epitomizing
and sell this Caddy to the Cardinal
trying to let it miss your attention won't fly
since writing is speech even if somewhat removed
or fit only for bouncy news anchor banter
pancake makeup a bit too aflame
like they do in shadow theater
where the container is the contained
because we can still index the cornucopia
eff you said the furry little May Pole Bunny
you can be sure he was in on it too
along with the Hen in the Willow
the Great Flaming Spiral in the Sky
and the nuns of St. Manacle
doing their Plantation Rebel Dance
with cascade of equally herkimer antecedents
perpetually enthused with the mystery of tomorrow
just don't try to tell me how to move my eyelids
smoke signals will always take care of that
cascading across the clacking copper contacts
in a total lack of continuity all at once
it is a pigeon tongue spoken in barter
barely able to walk after the derision of linguists
lobbed horseshoes across the barricades
against surgeons wielding kitchen knives
on a search and destroy mission
for chopped liver epicures from the Bank of Winter
living dead men's dreams was no picnic
memes eating my soul like red worms
only my degree from the School for the Sickly
standing between me and the Necromancers
who were emphatically not house trained
my collective unconscious operation manual
tossed on the burn pile half a life ago
now dumbed down to syntactically correct
in infinitesimal quantities with a Nefertiti smile
my mind a bordello of interpretation
God is not dead he is passe etc.
a raised by wolves feral non-conformist
everything orbits everything else
and that's space for you
which will bend yer crank kid
unless you can get your mood to swing
out from the nether realms of mourning
and the agony of oblique signals
written with the ***** of Satan
shaking money from your pockets again
a Conniving Backstabbing Bastard production
he hated coercion like he hated licorice
he was revolution incarnate all fresh and rosy
it was a kosher Pentecost event
tried quoting Lenin but it was too easy
the proletariat is people in a pickle
the dueling cucumbers of class warfare
now I'm on a dozen watch lists
followed by Diana's paparazzi
to this claustrophobic cinemaplex
and its temporal artery of light
at 3 in the afternoon
a good cheap remedy
following a bad diagnosis
his last gasp was quite lengthy
trying to go out with a bang as usual
a rationalist manifesto covering his face
accompanied by a cotton field work song
his grip went slack under the torrent of images
fortunes have been lost in that snapshot parlor
shook the money from the pockets
of many a surviving Siamese twin
blessed with a rugged set of mouse buttons
he pitched head first into the theocratic miasma
since a rescue by wisdom eluded his pilgrimage
and its inner parade of flailing penitents
he died to a real slow slide whistle tango
from a regrettable strangulation of debate
and terminally transparent eyelids
at least the bastards left me to my fate he mused
just as a legion of parachutists
crashed and tumbled through the roof
it was an Exist-o-Gram from my dear mother
but first a word from our sponsor
Hi there Mel Linger owner of Mel's Futon Corral
so jump in the calaboose and come on down
for a steal of a deal and a big gold tooth smile
clear and sunny in the lowland swamps
now for some traffic from overhead
fully awake after the reservoirs of hell broke loose
his mathematician’s mind calculated
how long until earthly paradise
it was a delusion but a lot of them work
time to risk the entire skin layer he fielded
searching for the trail to civilization
he shinnied up his collective unconscious
an optico semiotician on a paranormal safari
and began to read mom's holy missive
son, your persistent mania for self dialog
requiring a frequent bath in statistics and terror
has left you under the juggernaut's wheels
for some fashionable occult mystery
humor him it's a mud fest in there
relaxed again and ready for
the ever enchanting silhouette of flames
he spread his wings and noticed
there were no wings too late
his nipples were erect with drama
moms lips floated above and spoke
the extraterrestrial rushed up at him
the Cherubs chirped and twittered
as he rowed over the spillway of oblivion
and stood before the ancient ones
boy were they ancient decrepit even
connected to bubbling jars by their sex organs
apparently this made them really smart
the one labeled mom bubbled and spoke
lose the kilt festooned with skulls son
later that day a marsh fire swept through heaven
and a humming bird took nectar from his ear
feeling his vitamin injection a new adventure begins
a slapstick epic of unfathomable implication here unfolds
as the rat gnawed curtain rises at Ye Bone and Gristle
among the clattering of wooden pints of bitter ale
the floor show a fatigued and spent collegiate symposium
a haggard attempt at ecumenical largess aimed at
raising the unwashed to an occasional and transient grasp
of the larger dimensions that haunt our daily addictions
Prof. Zlotto emeritus deluxe brooded over his maps
summoned by the tedious self-appointed constabulary
to pry somewhat delicately into a mystifying case
of good judgment deferred with a view towards
an increase in immediate cash flow revenues
wagers placed on foul play or the whim of ill fortune
were the options undergoing fuddled prehension
we have before us opined Z expansively from center stage
an antebellumite absolutist abandoned by fortune
skirting the Queen's tariff crushed white and cold
by a bulging bale of contraband Carolina cotton
observe the eyes fully crossed the smirking grimace
while grasping a message in a mangled scrap of menu
none of the Bone and Gristle's brain trust could
tease rhyme nor reason from its random hatchings
Sumerian birdclaw temple cypher went our Professor
fragments from the time of the Great Watery Peril
the gathered lumpenproletariat gasped and murmured
Zlotto's flawless command of forgotten history
was the object of awe and an untidy fealty
my appraisal shall go no further than this room
insisted Zlotto drawing his finger across his windpipe
aye wheezed the unsteady avid archivists of civilization
the hearth's peat flames glinted off Z's gold tooth smile
a million dollar asset with the neighborhood gorgons
fluttering hearts batting about the succulent stamen
Z pondered aloud over the runes inscribed in red ichor
my certainty was never under hazard went Zlotto
what we have here beneath the lantern of exposition
is a blighted invocation of the Blind Mother of Witches
the tenured and tweedy astigmatics drew breath as one
a petition of supplication borne on ancient trade winds
Zlotto's hard gaze scanned the struck dumb congregation
It says only this
as one body the throng leans a full inch closer
only this
fill in your blanks
don't even think about it
a bucket of motel ice in the face
proving the thing in itself does not exist
because he registered all the meanings all the time
with a nausea so profound
the retching never ended
rearranging all my proteins
in a hypnotic anarexo-bulemic frenzy
I marched to the beat of crawling flesh
an x-rated dermatologist tattooed Celtic blue
in an idiot ritual purification
couldn't find a long-haired dog for winter
settled for an inferno of intrigue and dissipation
in a tin shack at the edge of an endless swamp
it wasn't serenity that's a rock solid fact
the horse hairs stung across his butt
Mistress Cheetah grabbed the microphone
she had saved him from pointlessness in the past
weaving many paths upon his terrain
in a fairy tale about fairy tales
fear swept the land as a craving for snacks
the ones who get no peace rose in rebellion
ridden by that cancer of abuse
the great canon that we are but animals
the Brahmins and their bullies faced extinction
so they cut a deal to escape the cro magnon hordes
coldly calculating the cost to nations
in a curious mix of apoplexy and daring
trying to duplicate the distortions of time
a grandiose epic on the nature of Nature
and the desert of human intellect
clanked and hummed into bloom
an infectious enthusiasm swept the palisades
curing the sick and raising the dead
bypassing the humiliation of needing to lie
now if that doesn't please your ghost
here's something that will
I'll give you the formula now
in a dance of erupting minutae
if the West is decadently feudal
the East is feudaly decadent
this is my message to Earth
multiply yourself by yourself
and avoid counterfeit soothsayers
like you avoid a broken pin ball flipper
in a sea of hard financial assets
some of the angels are stuffed dolls
and confabulate without knowing it
where everyone is a game piece
tell me what is not measured
like wild geese honking through the night
part of a vast migration of souls
with the moon low and full
in a time of riches and knowing
in a teasing ****** of ignorance
in a power surge that spiked through the wires
the closer to the pillar you stood
the more transparent it all became
end of transmission
Ambition in its prime dwells within over time —poet
My special poet…
is one who gets their point across
without agendas or alliterations of a bitter boss
No need for perfect literates who sip on bitters
and pound out heartless ink to other bulls*itters
A black heart smells rotted and oldened by experience
with ordinary nothingness to relay for instance
Webbed tough with matured matted material
used over again, makes not a special poet’s verses imperial
My special poet…
does not grope for interpretation of what’s in the soul
Or use blackened words of mystery that serve to cajole
Or spits floundering anxiety pending
Nor is in one’s own tight confining skin
Nor a swollen head enabled by encouragement,
rigid and giving nothing back
Nor do they look askance from their egocentric self,
Outspoken words that hurt, sensitivity they lack
My special poet…
is one who gets the truth out
reporting issues of division and about
undecided poets who need to explore
not to shun away from what dangers implore
Expresses what’s needed to say
words you trust along the way,
to make what’s important aware
for those with no voice and in despair
We’re all a part of it, the crime and border
God is good, He wants you to know justice’s order
My special poet…
a girly-girl of a soft disposition natured
still rides along within, now matured
I have too much respect for poets
to call out bitter versed ones, we know it’s
not going to change anything or anyone
We are who we are bar none
Understanding the universe that comes first
Time is of the essence not disparaging the worst
When making a split discission
when it’s obvious surrealism,
there is no more discussing what is
special, sincere, sealed woe IT'S me
My special poet…
is not better just unique
It's not a prowess poet that I seek
It’s nice when real poet's genius peak
Cannot hit the ball out of the park every time
Yet it all maybe rendered sublime
We cannot alter our voices
This covers all poets of our choices
You’ll find poets who well articulate
though meanings may particulate
Every poet is special to somebody
and have one thing in common
including ME
the only tree for a thousand miles
gave him welcome if temporary shade
a kaleidoscope of mockingbirds filling its branches
it was no longer possible to be blind
but very possible to be jailed
for being unaware of our surroundings
being that we are panphibians capable of TV
where apathy and turmoil don't mix
wracking our brains for the worst solution
every day since time began again
banding bending binding bonding bundling
mind turned upon itself like minds tend to do
a moth eaten panorama of agonies
everything still broken the breakers unpunished
our narrative not telling anyone anything new
long live the revolution in wisdom
that's my drooling occupational therapy grin
it's gotten me out of more than one derailment
feeling life as a prelude to a guillotine basket
or worse a juggernaut of ambition
now that will immediately inaugurate
a prison epidemic of eyeball rolling
can we escape seeing the unseen
or is it just a bigger cage
don't let the blighters
sell you your own real estate
or discoveries in hysteria research
from the Intergalactic Whats Next Council
acting in accord with the statistics
make it more aerodynamic
everything means something
a tool for every job
daily nightly I try to be less stupid
a simple formula designed for
the sweet gurgling idiot infant within
out cold but still in the game
now you got me laughing
momentarily dazed and surprised
prepare only for the eventual
because what remains tends to
influence what is to come
in a logic both apparent and subtle
not exactly free from ahem connotation
as most doors don't open themselves
meanwhile somewhere back in history
the Dog Clan had trouble finding women
with eight or ten ****
there that opened something up
from the spare parts bin
apparently his bulging eyeballs
were on full creme d'menthe death ray
the universal sense of alarm just went off
wailing it's not all brain chemistry
he spoke many tongues in faucet mode
the ramifications came tumbling out
but often heading in opposite directions
while the oppressive crows circled
where the Wizard parks his wagon
every home from Kansas to Atlantis
instituted a reign of madness
terror and ballroom dancing
What is it to hear a poem?
Ears ajar.
Eyes focused.
Mouth shut.
I struggle to listen when such words cut open
my head and try to make a nest out of my brain.
I DO NOT WISH TO HEAR A POEM!
My body jolts under these straps of limitation,
tightened by my ability to hear.
Why must one be limited to hear a poem?
I cast out stones towards those who care to listen.
Why don’t we be the poem?
Climb inside the mouth of a poem and
understand it’s true voice.
Be the pen kicking fiercely at the paper,
leaving behind marks of genius and creativity.
Rip open the heart of a poem and suck its
blood dry.
Feel a poem.
Be a poem.
Live a poem.
See words rise from the paper,
as they dance between the strings
of your heart.
Grab a hand of the message and twirl
it around your mind and smother its
meaning with praise.
Curl up inside the dot of an ‘i’.
Slide across an ‘l’ and mold it into a ‘t’.
Travel across an empty plain were stubborn
boulders cry.
Attack black and white ideas with shades
of blue and green.
Drive a sword through their hearts and leave
them dead to what is known.
Fight a poem.
Hurt a poem.
Heal a poem.
Turn the waste of sound into
vibrant waves of belief and inspiration.
Let yourself be swept away by
imagination and surrealism.
Find your soul inside of a poem and
claim it as your own.
Bring down the fortress of structure and
make its remains into martyrs of lost cause.
Open the doors of a poem and remodel
what’s inside.
NO! I do not want to hear a poem!
It sends pain through my soul to see the
voice of a poem silenced by the ignorant
dangers of sound.
Help yourself and plug your ears.
Visualize the words through serene images of
beauty cultured by unmatchable craft.
See a poem.
Grab a poem.
Know a poem.
Be influenced by a poem.
Learn a poem and all of its meanings.
Threaten a poem.
Scare a poem.
Stab a poem.
Teach it how to live amongst a world of vultures,
hungry for mistakes and misinterpretations.
Guide a poem into a building filled
with a million little fingers.
Like a poem.
Be touched by a poem.
Love a poem.
Show the world your insides.
Show them the words to your poem.
he waived cross examination
innovation had suffered a sucking head wound
and the Mossad was after my ass
a post Ragnarok picnic with a fire on the ice
hot enough to fry a penguin steak
code breakers grab your lapiz lazuli
it's the Florentine Colonnade Dancers
and gravy covers the spuds
the beaten man fears to drink his fill
swallowwed the shiny faucet handle
in a messy near suicide by drowning
tried to live on borrowed time
and die a meat eating hero with a following
but it was actually an oatmeal world
a banquet of boneless chicken
and seven times seven bags of Cheetos
we are all either the ruling class
doinking things up for generations to come
or clowns in the cross hairs
because they are still here aren't they
megalomania may well be a survival mechanism
where the retarded Adonises are grown
with a suspected core of infinite malice
the gatekeeper only wants to know your symptoms
my life was a waste of time I replied
your capacity for insolence will do you no harm
came the two replies to my reply
within minutes of each other
words are contours as well as baskets
I screamed turning up the gain
with them one can explore the human psyche
like monkeys in a cage
I sang because it's the smart thing to do
since I never learned to spell i-m-p-e-r-i-a-l
and as I rambled on and zoomed in
the teddy bear assassins
said thank you one and all and everything
you will know only briefly why you have to die
momentarily perplexed in demonic ecstasy
I grouted my stones with a la la la
and the streets filled with earthquake rubble
a vast line of gate crashers in waiting
dinner forks ready bye m'bye me eatum
stuff that down your silk shorts
and went to my final exit from the maze
it was the best he could honestly do
even when they upside us like meth hookers
up one side and down the aether
he dodged the repo man one more time
with the compass of compassion
while trying not to be a morale problem
the specimens in my cognitive laboratory
confide and call it symphony
yet in the end the neurons
played a starring role
trying to stir from the trance
he knew the risk
but had a mouth to feed
being treated for fructose spasms
during one of the last movies on Earth
after the great Enema of 2012
when the heaters were on high
the authorities were called in
but his claims were all backed up
by the logic of chimes and daggers
creatures of comfort unite
you have nothing to lose but
your milk mouth and baby spoon
I went chatty and personal
diving from couch to chair
on a sponge mop broomstick
the room remained a mess
but the leaps were longer
what but imagination is boundless
so he stamped and splashed singing
through the sewers of ideology
and carnival freaks with wings
made all my dynamos hum again
thanks to the exponential growth rate
of an adequate knowledge base
but then contemplating death
can make you crazy enough
to assassinate your biology instructor
and succumb to the lure of bland abjection
and an archaic tidal wave of pessimism
and the hedonist's morphological pedigree
a prized quality among the really sage
and their many colored appendages
we all know more than we let on
it's a conspiracy of noise and silence
attained through bribery and deceit
where substitutions screech and skid
where sugar cane machetes dance in the rain
and the Moon weeps with a broken heart
made me write on her blackboard 100 times
cognition is not possession
until his soul jumped out his eyeballs
caught trafficking in non-essentials
with its lures and scuffles
but then it is a nasty game
played by hungry cartoon caricatures
tricking children out of their food
where every day and night is Halloween
until the euphoric chameleons
in a herpes garden of delight
of decadence infantilism and sleep
whistle through their nose hairs
beauty is tenuous who is to protect her
awaken her choirs bloom her lilacs
and rainbow tresses and panting mamaries and
oh dear impale me dead where was I
the suction had his mind in a spin
with each gust of wind his forehead
began its evocative dans mort
don't try this at home kids
just kidding its OK to pantomime
ancient actors before their campfire
as you can well imagine
no one saw it coming they never do
the phone poles were giving off sparks
dogs began to howl birds flocked to the sky
A Plymouth hubcap of immense proportions
quivered and droned in the air over the capitol
television screens from one coast to the other
blinked and flashed and sputtered in unison
two fetus-headed visitors from the vast starry ocean
floated to the ground in a lime green light beam
introduced themselves as Hoo and Watt
then performed an Abbot and Costello baseball skit
we bring humanity a gift in a box with a message
if you open the box and read the words writ within
you must under threat of annihilation do what it says
you can confer and decide we'll know if you peek
a murmur of animated if disorderly consternation
rippled menacingly through the assembled delegates
if we read the message it could mean slavery
went one side and began arming themselves
it is but a message how malevolent can that be
went the other side who were of a trusting nature
and began calling their investment bankers
as the great spinning hubcap lit like a jukebox
hummed up and away through the clouds
but back on the surface ripples of disquiet deluged
conditions grew tense fires were set mail was stolen
the metal box hovered mutely in the rotunda
giving off the smell of jungle gardenias
women fainted children giggled and pointed
dogs barked and humped one another
ears back tongues akimbo butt to butt
we must read the message it is salvation
we must not read the message it is tyranny
it was a quandary that spanned the plantations
and spread a paroxysmal miasma across the land
the musts and cants mud wrestled through the night
the great rotunda heaved and rattled
eyeballs were gouged tufts of hair unmoored
the bedlam reached a crescendo of exhaustion
fatigue at last brought silence and reflection
the jaw grinding impasse had lasted weeks
vultures circled plaster fell from ceilings
then a small voice from the back of the throng
a cheeky tousle haired lad blurted bravely
flip a coin
(to be continued)