Surrealism Poems - Poems about Surrealism

The perfect petals puncture the fabric’s purple-blue, And silver-platter fins paint the water every hue. A globed sky has thawed, ripe with pine and sapphire stars— And the glinted sheen of the oil graze on your lips reminds me who and where you are: South; below the electric-white moon, Bright enough to bleach my bones and...

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follow the poolside shadows Venus of Delphi daughter of bitter waves peek through the peephole of my glaucous thorax open your byzantine eyes and spurn your locomotor ataxia one glance at our vitreous hands – a sight for blind sore eyes one brush of our riveted lips – gone astray in malformations one ponderous confession later – immaterial as a shadow of the lash let the weeping...

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the origin of my life a frottage friction giving rise to the template the grattage image to be completed in the mind of the viewer women are often invisible at best compartmentalised by Man a notional ekphrasis but they make their presence known they’re a work of art crowding in on the subconscious labyrinth of walls...

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Hell is 'o' Hell'o'_____ Simple: sell the kids for food \black is now grey and white is dead / wash my skin / oh no \ i am human once again How time eats ass and memories feed mouths i hate my head again inside i took years to wash myself now I am filthy again Once again i am sad but to be sure i...

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wave wave wave a mouth an ocean tongue slobbering like a big slobbery dog licking my face wave wave wave zave mave jave licking my face an ocean wave mouth of the boisterous dog vave kave bave wave wave wave I drown near too near but by the dog save and to the shore gave or the mouth my grave wave wave wave ...

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the growth that all a person has sinister growth like fungus or tumour sprouting protruding scrouting grotruding a growth growing with light black black black flat flat flat mirroring our dances echoing our chances fat skinny glances strouting brotruding black black black flat flat flat but watch for a person’s without a person the growth that all a person has black black black ...

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I walked through a tunnel like a finger rubbing around the inside of a wine glass round and round fround bround vround tround round and round through the tunnel as a funnel speeding up kround zround jround pround I walked through a tunnel down to the darkness down and down bown hown rown zown down and down round and round dark and stark I walked through a tunnel to myself...

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Gathered among lovely nymphs, whose grace shines brightly like eternal stars Their vibrant essence lingers, embracing radiantly, In the dream-laden air, does my love pursue only a fleeting vision? My uncertainty, an ancient veil of darkness, now reaches its peak. In the quiet branches that linger faithfully, in enduring woods, Alas, I too have presented myself as a false and...

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I, as paper man in paper town, grey, saw a cardboard cut-out of a mirror, the reflection was a busy world it didn't look real, those colours and restaurants ...

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being watched by eyes over there over there where the eyes are not their ethereal glare nefarious unseen, ready like puckered lips this eyeless wraith with lidless eyes nowhere, peering beyond their death there are eyes staring that are not there these shapeless orbs surrounding ...

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I am one of those in a world that stopped whether it was for seconds, fractions or millennia but the engine of time broke down mid action mid conversation, mid thought and for a beautiful period we were all framed in a snapshot that may have lasted eons and some called it enlightenment and when the buffering released us all was...

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a lady of swollen years sat knitting with glorious colours she said her name was saint something or other I didn't quite catch it must have been the gum she was chewing her lipstick was smeared anyway I asked what she was making she said stain glass windows for the cathedral being built behind her I wasn't going to believe her but I couldn't help it...

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calling all mistreated jugglers and wretches of condemned madhouses bewitched by fingers of freak fame the spindly fingers of trickster twins that open the floodgates to occult caverns unleashing the brusque wraiths the brittle symmetry of her glacial eyes cast down from the empyrean skies as a sanctified abyss from ancient past eyes as candlelit rectory windows shining bright like voluptuous pyre and ferryman’s lantern...

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a one against all iconoclast eat my shorts was his hello after being driven from the village by the Iceberg Clan physical therapists and their dictatorship of deduction a mere fascination with the grotesque boasting an indignant moral high ground their vast distortions parading as what's next none of which was actually observant ordered the award of a certificate of exile prompting futile biographical excess told...

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have you lost your mind not that I'm aware of just another flat penny train wreck let's survey the blaspheming survivors an army of gossiping lawn trolls have been detected in your garden do you a. get out of bed b. run screaming into the night c. splash a little more gin into the horn of screeching hell that feathered chaos aviary thronged with hollow boned creatures squawking...

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