#surreal poetry

[v333spertine]

#chaotic academia #dakota warren #poems #dark academia #ethel cain #poetry #trans #queer #trans poetry #queer poetry #poet #teen poet #spilled poetry #spilled ink #spilled writing #language poetry #my love affair with language #surreal poetry #trans masc #nonbinary #xe/xem

[manwalksintobar]

A Boat // Richard Brautigan

O beautiful was the werewolf in his evil forest. We took him to the carnival and he started     crying when he saw the Ferris wheel. Electric green and red tears flowed down his furry cheeks. He looked like a boat out on the dark water.                                         

#poetry #Richard Brautigan #carnival #wolf #American poetry #boats #surreal poetry #werewolf

[chucklinggg]

I didn’t want love

I didn’t want love but then it hit me and then I wanted nothing but love but it wasn’t for me, clearly I didn’t think I had enough love in me to offer I was wrong on that front, I also doubted that I could become the recipient of somebody’s unadulterated pure affection, sadly I wasn’t too far off with that one I believed myself immune from Cupid’s arrow trajectory - not one to fall for sweet words and good looks, I didn’t plan to be another marionette to love; to be affected by what they thought of me, I was passionate about remaining a lone wolf, a master of me In the end, I went tumbling down as the arrow pierced my heart, and it’s been fourteen months already and I still cannot erase you from being my last thought as my eyes flicker shut. I wish I could shake off the all-consuming longing for you to love me back, for I wilt when you withdraw and flourish when you’re near, Cupid, dear, remove your arrow and cease your good-for-nothing meddlesome ways, so I can look at her face without my eyes travelling to her mouth, and not blush when her hand touches mine. How about that?

#my poetry #original poem #original content #poeticstories #poems and poetry #original poetry #poetsandwriters #poetcommunity #Surreal poetry #poetry #poets corner #poets on tumblr #poetry on tumblr #poetry life #daily poem #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #spilled poem #writerscreed #freeverse #blotched poetry #blotched poems #poet whisphers #smitten by poetry #writing the storm #Poetic State Of Mind #poetry portal #writing #love poems

[queen-of-empathy]

#female poets #female writers #poetscommunity #poets on tumblr #original poets on tumblr #original poem #original poetry #quotes #poetry #poem #love poem #dream symbolism #dream boy #sinister love poem #surreal poetry

[beepbeepdespair]

ok so i saw this

and i hit the middle auto complete button many, many times and it created... what almost feels like poetry? so ive cleaned up some sections of it and turned them into poetry, here it is lmao

jesse, we need to turn my attention to you

and that's why I still have not been working with you on the beach café yet

and I can't fix the issue of a bee in my head, off the walls

your love and your love and joy and love your love and love and kisses, someone else

and you will be a disappointment.

the kind heart of your ribcage in a ditch someday

and I love it, so I see you

but I think we're going down with them on Sunday.

they will not be liable for their own bodies.

the future is a bit like a cat, and I can't fix it for a few days.

I love you, and that's a good thing for me to do.

I can't sleep on your bed.

if I become a universal man, and a daughter in the dark

a spooky little girl

and a daughter in a song, because she has no idea what is going down

and it's not perfect gold

and the future suicides in a box.

you can call me bella

#okay but why do i really like this???? i mean i did have to sort through a lot of bullshit to get this but still #reblogs encouraged #poetry #jesse we need to cook #breaking bad #breaking bad memes #autocomplete #abstract poetry #surreal poetry #beep beep poetry

[heart-songs]

in a dream there is a voice without a face and a body void of bones that I come home to—or is it a house without walls only open windows and doors which perhaps is just another way of saying a heart without a cage does it even matter in this dream words have no matter because you have all the answers and I have no questions only a kiss for your mouth one without lips until I kiss it I kiss your lips as though they are air and you hold me like an inhale that does not want to be exhaled

#poetry #dreams #home #love #love poem #love poetry #love as breath #surreal poetry #surrealism #kiss #intimacy #romantic poetry #my writing #cora finch #heartsongs #poem #344 #hold me like an inhale

[salovie]

Everything burned while I stood still, and dark, the opposite of a bright spot. I don’t know how it happened but the air was asking for it and they ended up blaming it all on a cow. I did not wave or shake or bow or kiss but said goodbye anyway to everything I’d ever known. Accepted it, stone-faced.

Now I endure, stone-stuck, the prettiest thing in your panorama, smaller than I’ve ever been, crowded and alone.

#poetry #spilled ink #prose poem #surreal poetry #prompt #write a surreal prose poem #here’s my attempt! #inspired by the Chicago water tower because idk it just happened that way

[0-ink-zinc]

Hush

Hush, hush, the pendulum swings Eyes shut tight As it lifts broken wings. Hush, hush, the pendulum sways Soaring high As it guides the way. Hush, hush, the pendulum spins In creeps the night As it opens worlds within. Hush, hush, the pendulum stops Enraptured by dreams As it clears your thoughts. Hush, hush, Goes The pendulum. ~ Z

Loosely inspired by a piece of writing I once came across that claimed to help the person who spoke it sleep, however it was only one verse. Since I haven't been sleeping too well, not that I ever do, I thought I would write my own versus. Who knows perhaps it may help You sleep.

#0-ink-zinc #writing practice #creative writing #poetry #writing #inspired by a spell #insomniacs poems #surreal poetry #original poem #daily writing practice #daily practice #poetry practice #night poem #poems to help you fall asleep #if you believe that is

[jonnyblackwrites]

My PORTALS Zine is available in my shop!

PORTALS is a hand bound chapbook featuring poems and illustrations by yours truly! Surreal, dreamscape and liminal poems coupled with haunting line art. Support a poet today ✨️

#poets on tumblr #poetry #spilled ink #surreal poetry #horror #liminal

[jegibbs]

Wicked Jesus Imagines Snuggling Death Drunk.

Don't go anywhere. Eat a banana while snuggling your refrigerator. Regrets aren't real. Unlike the hummingbird that will suck the nectar out of your eye socket. We were born to smile at death. Wicked teeth yearning to naw. A drunk slow dance in a minimalist room. No shadows, no lights. Just as Jesus imagines while jerking off God. Be kind to the mirror, it never wanted to exist. Neither did the banana. Neither did death.

#poetry #poem #spilled ink #writing #creative writing #alt lit #rejectscorner #lit #poets on tumblr #surreal poetry #avant garde #stream of consciousness

[mechanicalkira]

Tea Parties matter

So she’s locked inside her Fairy-cottage-shaped holy grail Stuck in the backbone of her telescopic head Busy building structures while talking with teddy bears About what time is best to have a tea party And will the cookies be soft enough? Warm enough? Crunchy enough? No divine creature can reach her No friend, no enemy, none is invited: After all, a girl can still retain some Degree of free will and this is Precisely what she wants: To be left alone.

Alone, to be left To be the left hand writing This poem under the midnight sky Of a Saturday in which the witches whisper All over the roof on top of her head And all the thoughts Born in the afternoon Fell ill and collapsed To the ground Am I still here? Weren’t we discussing cookies? Who are you and What do you want with me?

(I’m your teddy bear, my name is Orso)

So she’s locked inside a midnight sky Stuck in the middle of some sort of fairy tale cottage Busy building a backbone to lead her back home Talking with Orso about the masterplan and Of course, the Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Now you might want to tell her that everything is fine And how she’s going to be alright soon but We all know it would be Just a beautiful lie. Instead, you may send her a song.

#kira a #mechanical kira #surreal poetry #my poetry #poets on tumblr #poets of tumblr #free verse #beautiful words #writings #poetry blog #poemsbyme #poem of the day

[femboyhorror]

help i've fallen in love with a 𝓉𝑜𝓂𝒷𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓃𝑒 !!

#cutout poetry #queer poets on tumblr #poets on tumblr #surreal poetry #ghostcore #mutt's poetry #weirdcore

[madness-is-an-aesthetic]

They stole my yesterday

To give to a tomorrow

Which isn’t yet is

And I cannot be without being without

And I am nothing yet without within before

And I will haven’t acted for today

Without my readiness for now’s untold yesterdays.

Farewell unto the unprepared haven’t and is

Greetings by the windswept won’t and whereafters of the already happened.

Saw fit by the isn’t

Out with the happen

So I may will proclaim the presence of a begotten yesterday to a present tomorrow.

#short poem #poems and poetry #poetry #poem #weird thoughts #poetic #short poetry #surreal poetry #time poetry #surreal poem #time poem #weird poem

[chucklinggg]

A girl’s bathtub

Webs of tangled, fallen hair

Clog the drain, the metallic strainer

streaked with age, a poor gatekeeper

/

Murky water left rims of dirt

Obscuring the white contours 

of the rectangle-sized bathtub, long enough

for a five-foot-five’s outstretched legs

/

The surface now, 

Mottled with some leftover blobs

of undissolved conditioner,

that looks like fatty butter and 

striated pink pathways marked by the

last Christmas’s bath-bomb gift

/

It’s a therapist’s couch, 

unyielding in its firmness 

a patient lover, a witness to 

matters being mulled over

where thoughts trickle unrestrained 

hovering and brewing like the steam 

that fills the bathroom and clouds the mirror, 

the mirror that saw what the bathtub 

had missed, the stubborn spots, 

first creases and the unsightly rashes.

/

A basin full of ungainly octopi arms

hanging like an old person’s loose skin

coiling and coiling,

and tripping up feet

until picked up to release a flow

of cold then hot stream.

/

A neutral observer,

unfazed by tantrums and tears

never whispers back 

but stares back, 

with its faucet

cold eyes

#mypoetry #original poem #original content #poeticstories #poems and poetry #original poetry #poetsandwriters #poetscommunity #Surreal poetry #poetry #poets corner #poets on tumblr #poetry on tumblr #poetry life #daily poem #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #spilled poem #writerscreed #freeverse #blotched poetry #blotchedpoems #poetwhispers #smitten by poetry #writing the storm #Poetic State Of Mind #poetry portal #writing

[ophelia-network]

I am a wave on a shoreless sea.

From no beginning

I travel to no goal,

Making my movements stillness.

Constantly I am arriving

And departing,

Being born and dying.

I am always with you

And yet have never been —Tony Crisp

A Quiet Place by Isabella Quaranta

#a quiet place #isabella quaranta #tony crisp #photography #poetry #spiritual #nature #ophelia net #forest #fantasy #mossy rock #dappled sunlight #fine art photography #tao #symbolism #metaphorical #self transformation #being #knowing #surreal poetry #romantic #beautiful

[katteethh]

Last Night

I had the strangest dream that

I was in a subway hall taking a payphone call from

a cat collector who said he knew my father

And I could’ve sworn on my dead dogs grave

That you passed me on the red line

with all your flesh still on

while we argued

Over who’s number was easier to dial

By the time my train arrived it was dark and I was

Six waiting for my mother to pick me up from

The butchers shop where rows of bloodless flesh hung on hooks

And the heads of the stock stacked in the corner sang sweet nothings

For the customers— Competing for the title of Finest Flesh for Consumption

Eat me, eat me, aren’t I delicious? Come and eat me, eat me,

chew my flesh and drink my blood

And know that this is the Finest Flesh for Consumption

The Pig’s whisper lips slithered under my memory disks

Driving a knife into my palm into my flesh into the legs of the butcher

And as he hit the ground the train whistle harmonized with the feathered foul and

My mother didn't call me sweetheart anymore

She gets off on the second stop like always

But I am still six and tears still sting my eyes as the doors melt together

I wave goodbye through the passing windows but

She does not wave back this time

My skin is ripped from my body and my skeleton grows old for me

and I let my eyes roll down the aisles of interesting faces

of people and places I’ve known before

of David

and Michael

and Azzi

and Rome

and chicago

and bacon

and fried eggs in a pan

and

the floor comes to a halt but my body doesn’t know this

and my face falls through the floor teeth first

Branches smack and slit my skin apart on the

Long way down town where we danced and drank and sang

In the hollow lights of moons in galaxies

we discovered when we were young

When you had skin and I had spine

And the meat slicer grinding and winding me to pulp

Hadn’t taken my pit to Tartarus

This is not my stop but here I am

The ragtime quartet of creatures honk horns of horror

Their Flesh is the Finest in the Galaxy!

And Just one bite, One Bite

Will Take You To Your Destiny

I pray it might take me to be inside of my mother

so when I wake I may make her proud this time

#poetry #macabre poetry #poetry by me #surreal poetry