Tag: Surrealism

  • The Kingdom Of Paradoxes And Absurdities

    The Kingdom Of Paradoxes And Absurdities

    The kingdom of paradoxes and absurdities was the place where bullying and arrogance reigned supreme, sovereign over vulgarity and stupidity. They wallpapered the walls of every place that held court in such a realm.

    Anything that could be imagined was both unreal and real at the same time. It could exist or not exist. Absurdity, however, was the master of the place. Thus, everything my logic deemed possible was tangible and predictable. In truth, it could neither take place nor be actualised in such sovereignty.

    I cannot say that I was dreaming, nor can I say that I was awake. In a state of shock and surrender of my ego, I could no longer even discern whether I was daydreaming or hallucinating. All I could say was what my sensations and perceptions made me feel in every part of my soul and heart, in every part of my body.

    Although I had firmly decided not to bend to the will of others, not to bow down or worship the conventions imposed on me persistently, I fell into a deadly trap—a kind of imprisonment, a state of captivity from which I could not free myself. Invisible chains that I felt and perceived in my body and heart held dominion over my life and my way of thinking.

    My jewellery box had been plundered. All my secrets had been revealed by indiscreet tongues. And my protection had vanished. It was as if I had become a defenceless flower in the midst of a threatening desert.

    I had to say goodbye to my version of myself, which was no longer alive. I had to say goodbye to all those visions that had deceived me falsely, when my naivety clouded my sight.

    In the kingdom of paradoxes and absurdities, I had to succumb and suffer. I had nowhere else to go. And the more I tried to escape, the more it seemed that this strange land expanded beneath my feet, preventing me from crossing its high and menacing walls. And what could the sky do but watch me, almost mocking me in an indifferent and cynical manner.
    Lisa

  • Beneath The Ocean Vault

    Beneath The Ocean Vault

    Beneath the ocean vault, there was a secret place
    where the hidden truths and the most recondite secrets had been buried.
    Among ruins covered by coral and algae
    and a rather unsettling expanse of swirling water.
    It was there that the crypt under the ocean lay,
    as if the sea had been its roof and also its home.
    Mine was a simple vision,
    it may be that I was dreaming,
    it may be that I was having these hallucinations.
    I only know that it was not the fruit of a conscious and calculated imagination.
    It seemed that I had abandoned myself
    to the sound of the stormy waves on an autumn evening.
    When the faint light of the sky merged with the water of the ocean
    until merged as one unity.

    I closed my eyes and I abandoned myself to my imaginative madness,
    And I saw with even more clarity that marvellous and fantastical landscape
    which did not belong to me,
    But which in some way symbolised something of my past or of my future,
    because I, in the end, lived in the past and the future.
    My present was in oblivion.

    Beneath the ocean vault, my dreams had ceased to whisper visions and desires. In their place remained nightmares that drew their fantasies from bitter disappointments and atrocious memories. And it was in this labyrinth of water and darkness that I found myself entwined, clutched as if unbound by invisible chains.

    I found myself in an oceanic crypt where the sea creatures had turned into ghosts, hunting me like prey and a victim of their tortures and torments. My invocation to the cruel fate of a possible change, where I might have grasped a flower of hope, was to no avail. In the endless and vast infinite.
    Lisa

  • The Castle Of Ghosts

    The Castle Of Ghosts

    The castle of ghosts was the fortress of my fears and anguish.
    The castle of ghosts also held my deepest terrors within its walls.
    It rose majestic and formidable on winter nights of solitude and storm,
    yet stood equally clear on silent, warm summer evenings.
    There was no season in which I could not glimpse it on the horizon—
    Each time I surrendered to my dreams
    and let my subconscious strike my heart,
    unlocking a secret chest filled with arcane mysteries
    and precious jewels.

    The voices I heard were those of malevolent spectres,
    intent on robbing me of my joy and my imagination.
    They sought to annihilate and utterly destroy
    all my dreams and visions—deemed by them mere madness—
    when in truth they were the very essence of my being,
    The essence of my heart, secretly nourishing my fantasies,
    those fantasies brimming with hope and desire,
    With stars and dawns yet to come.

    I could no longer entrust my secrets to any human soul,
    After all the harm had poured upon me like icy rain
    On a tempestuous night,
    while countless daggers and arrows pierced my heart and body—
    as if I were born and destined
    to a life woven with anguish, grief, powerlessness, and wretchedness.

    My heart was entangled in brambles,
    whose sharp thorns made it bleed perpetually,
    draining all the vital, creative energy I harboured within—
    leaving me a bloodless creature,
    devoid of impulses to guide me forward
    Along my dark and uncertain path,
    where every step was like a fragile, slender thread,
    ready to snap under its own frailty.

    Survived invisible storms,
    silent battles no one ever saw,
    I carried within me an armour of ash,
    hardened by time
    between fleeting shadows and light.

    The castle of ghosts was, in truth, the castle of my surviving selves—
    versions forged through countless traumas, abuses,
    and dreadful events that cast down my soul, my heart, and my body,
    to the point where I died many times over,
    only to be reborn as a new person each time.

    And now I had grown accustomed to losing all that I possessed
    only to gain something else—
    Something that would grant me another identity,
    another name,
    and another heart.
    Lisa

  • The Magic Beneath Her Smile

    The Magic Beneath Her Smile

    The magic beneath her smile
    In a hush of varnished sight
    Her gaze held mine
    She was not senseless
    She was enigmatic
    A timeless masterpiece
    An eternal and sublime beauty
    As if she knew everything about me
    And all that I hadn’t yet dared to live

    Seventeen-seventeen was the arcane message
    She whispered to me in the gallery aura
    Like a cypher and a vow
    A painting is much more than a mirror
    It is the reflection of a soul into a thin surface of eternity

    The time became nineteen-nineteen
    Like wings folding back into the surface of my body
    An unlived existence was rising up from between my heart
    And it was not a fairytale or a legend
    But a secret signal and a door to another world

    Surreal fantasies became my realm
    And there I lingered silent and astonished
    Immobile like a sphinx with staring eyes
    Futile as I felt like the moments of bliss I lived in that magic kingdom of beauty and eternity
    An exquisite world where my heart beat again joyfully

    Vanity and ephemeral dreams took me to mysterious places
    Where I discovered new oddities and ancient secrets
    I wouldn’t be able to understand which spell had been cast on me
    I only knew I couldn’t resist the captivating labyrinth of arts

    The magic beneath her smile concealed arcane mysteries
    It wasn’t a prosaic artwork but a divine splendour
    Dressed in centuries of varnish
    Hid behind a shining crystal
    Surrounded by fragments of timeless magnificence.
    Lisa

  • My Illusions

    My Illusions

    My illusions concealed the bright stars and the moon. I was sure that I couldn’t rely totally on my perceptions and conceptions of life and dreams. I didn’t know anything, but the only thing I could do was cry in my loneliness on a long night when no stars and no moon were visible to my eyes. All my memories were hanging in my mind like paintings. They were like thunders during a night storm in the ocean whose foundation was made of nightmares and suspiciousness.

    Beneath the shadows of hollow trees, I found my dwelling to rest free from the clouds of anxiety and distress. No glooms of sadness could prevent me from looking at the night sky. Maybe it was just a dream, but I couldn’t avoid staring at the dark and starless firmament. I dared to question my senses, but all that I could obtain was confusion and dizziness. In a realm where everything seemed absurd, odd, and meaningless, I strove to find a sense in my ephemeral existence.

    I had ceased to comprehend what was truth and what was deception. The night with its frightful shadows and wraiths, became my loyal companion, so sweet and lovely. No one could ever separate us, not even for an instant. The magic wisdom of the gift of madness was so sublime and exquisite. Unique was the foolishness of my silent heart. Invisible and abandoned in the quest for my fate, I explored labyrinths and mangroves in the wilderness of my imagination.

    My illusions deceived me repetitively, as I attempted to sugarcoat my lonely desolation, deprived as I was of every solace and comfort. I saw the dirty squalor being put on the sacred altar of devotion and veneration. Mortal souls preferred profanities and obscenities to sublimity, beauty and virtue. The world of mortals was shamefully collapsing in front of my eyes and I preferred to shut myself down in my boundless dungeon of illusions, nightmares, dreams and hallucinations. To never be back to that false and tainted world.
    Elisabetta

  • Mirrors And Delusions

    Mirrors And Delusions

    Mirrors and delusions surrounded me as I wandered through a labyrinth carved from my own expectations. Each hidden niche kept a secret, and each silent sigh was a vow that dissolved in the emptiness. I strived to hold distant glimpses I could never keep, and the more I yearned, the taller the walls grew.

    Wildflowers whispered legends about betrayal and wickedness. Sadness teardrops fell over me like jet ink, leaving trails of darkness on my uncertain way. Clouds of gloom and sorrow met in the sky, feasting on the ephemeral sense of existence. My silence was my words. I had no needs or ambitions to fulfil any more because my ego was obliterated.

    Hence, it began my passage into the liminal state. My distorted reflection in the mirrors could have been the fruit of my hallucinations or the effective image of myself. Everything could have betrayed me, even myself. There was no longer a sun in the firmament of this realm of lugubrious descent. Where fallacy and degradation ruled.

    Polished crystals shone their glimmer, not to guide, but to deceive as each light was just a false oath, drawing me deeper into the hollow abyss of this maze of madness. Lonely I was never since shadows and ghosts accompanied me whenever I would wander. Their countenances were dreary and appalling.

    Mirrors and delusions hid my truth and plundered my heart of innocence and hope. They filled my route with deceit and cruel traps. I had become invisible and voiceless in their dungeon of decadence and death. I had to surrender to their power and supremacy. I wouldn’t consider myself a wisdom keeper since my insanity grew like a flower among tombstones.

    No more farewell to my dreams, for they no longer belonged to me, but to the nothingness that now bore my name.
    Elisabetta

  • The Golden Mirage

    The Golden Mirage

    The golden mirage appeared in front of me
    I couldn’t perceive if I were dreaming or awake
    But I could sense the magnificence of my vision
    As I forgot all my anxieties and fears, I proceeded on my path
    The deception of my fantasy could have betrayed me
    Because it felt so tangible and discernible

    I chased delusions and I couldn’t discern between reality and dream
    I had lost all my purposes, wandering without any directions
    My unintentional existence was a chimera
    Just a delusional journey destined to end in the valley of desolation
    In that barren stillness, I couldn’t find any awareness or hope
    My delusional adventure conducted me into the abyss of despair

    I had lost everything and the enchanting, tainted spell transformed into a ruin
    Distorted reflections of myself shimmered in giant golden mirrors
    Sparkling in all their lush illusion beneath the silent stare of the stars
    Every dream that blossomed in my imagination became a stone flower
    Everything I ever desired was reduced to crumbles of dust
    I felt the awareness that I had fallen victim to my own betrayal

    Every piece of my heart had been burned like an inextinguishable flame
    Wicked ghouls watched me from afar, sending me missives imbued with scorn and disdain
    While a defending silence resounded all over the surreal realm of gold and darkness
    Where absurdities and oddities governed as capricious rulers
    In this kingdom of gilded trees and silver moons, there were no directions or tickling clocks
    Everything seemed inert but also topsy-turvy

    My sleepless sanity surrendered to madness
    Overwhelmed by the outrage of my own fractured mind
    I wept behind a veil made of ephemeral lies
    The stars conspired against me, singing enigmas and riddles I couldn’t solve
    Making me feel dizzy and desperate
    I was a powerless creature in the realm of the golden mirage
    I had become a mirage myself.
    Elisabetta

  • Gilded Illusions

    Gilded Illusions

    Gilded illusions visited my dreams
    In the eternal night that enveloped me like a diaphanous veil
    I lingered far from every mortal sight
    In my dwelling made of stars and dreams

    The moon was bleeding silver onto withered blossoms
    And I was a phantom wandering through chambers carved from bone
    Among candles that wept in crystal flocks
    While silence deepened in this dark dungeon of memories

    Eerie whispers of the dead rose from broken mirrors
    From each cracked and gloomy surface emerged a spirit of the past
    Their hearts were cold and hollow for their ancient dismay
    And their anguish echoed until the stars of the night firmament

    Whenever I aimed to reach for the stars
    They disappeared into the emptiness
    Leaving me alone in my despair and decay
    While the striking of time split the silence like a blade

    No hesitation could help me to reacquire my wisdom
    I knew that I had lost my freedom to embrace a life of madness and turmoil
    Nothing could have altered this realm of death and decadence
    Every divine bliss was destroyed by my fate

    I belonged to the realm of dust and decay
    I was reduced to following the darkness
    The more I wept, the tighter drew the chains of my bondage
    All my gilded illusions faded away in the void

    Surrounded by the hollowness of dilapidated sarcophagi
    I heard lullabies of sorrow that hovered like ghouls
    Shadows long departed from the realm of life
    They waited to converge on the abyss of the underworld

    My chains transformed into silver and gold serpents
    They became my guardians in this surreal world ruled by illusion and deception
    Crowded by hissing ghosts and perpetual twilight
    And in this sublime dejection, I found my refuge.
    Elisabetta

  • Teardrops Of Expectation

    Teardrops Of Expectation

    Teardrops of expectation accompanied me on my silent nights
    When my solitude was a phantom visiting me during my feverish slumber
    I left the real world because I knew I couldn’t belong to it
    In the end, I was a creature of the darkness
    Craving for mystery and arcane revelations

    I knew not what was expecting me
    The unknown was my gloomy path made of unstable cobblestones and thorns
    I may have desired that my dreams could become true
    Nevertheless, I was the silent muse of sadness and the embodiment of grief
    I stood in the middle of my dark chamber, waiting for a sign

    My mind was full of hallucinations and demise
    I couldn’t find myself and the meaning of my existence
    I was there still like a marble sculpture and my heart was a cold stone
    Nothing could ever break my bones anymore
    I embraced my fears and my doomed fate

    Drops of gold and dust descended from the ancient walls
    It was like even the walls were weeping my anguish
    I became dizzy and weaker like a small petal falling from its flower
    I was not like other mortals because I was an ethereal spirit
    Living in a castle of decay and forsaken vestiges

    Death was part of my being as long as the eternal void surrounded me
    The soft melodies of the past had departed from my reality
    Where I was, the reality was obliterated as well as time
    Despair transformed into a surreal garden of oblivion and madness
    Full of dead spirits and shrieking ghouls

    Teardrops of expectation softly caressed my heart
    As if my waiting were the apex of broken moons dripping onto vacant meadows
    While silent masks bloomed from the soil
    And I dissolved as a nameless ghost into the shadows of forgotten kingdoms
    Beyond every imagination.
    Elisabetta

  • In Chaos And Madness

    In Chaos And Madness

    In chaos and madness, I’ve got lost while dreaming
    It was as if I could see only with my soul but not with my eyes
    The realm I found myself in was just an illusion of my own imagination
    Wandering around among fantasies and hallucinations

    I became aware that everything was going to be destroyed
    Death and obliteration were waiting for me and my realm of dreams
    Behind every bliss of mine, there was a tragic ache that carved wounds on my body
    A hopeless loneliness was the only flower blooming in my garden

    Sordid was the soil on which I trembled with dread and fear
    Where each flower was watered by illusions and embedded in despair
    Each petal bled with loss and remorse at the feet of the fountain of disdain
    And I felt overwhelmed by the dizziness swaying between chaos and madness

    I couldn’t see any creature on the darkest night I have ever attended
    While the silence had devoured every sound, it left the pounding of my heart to hunt me
    I was torn from my world of daydreams to be cast into a realm of annihilation and grieve
    And became part of the garden of dead trees

    Every sensation and memory muted into a scar
    Every teardrop became part of that fountain of grief
    The roots of each hollow tree chained me to the cold soil
    I was one of the several withered flowers in that garden of insanity

    The instability of my condition was assured by my bound to decadence
    I swore my oath to the thorns that crowned my garden of roses and frenzy
    Delirium and ecstasy possessed my bleeding heart
    All the longings of mine were buried deeply into the abyss of eternity

    I screamed my despair, and I cried teardrops of blood
    In chaos and madness, I had become the darkness and wickedness
    I was the queen of the night and eternity
    And the void belonged to me as long as I belonged to the realm of death and oblivion.
    Elisabetta

© Esther Racah 2025. All rights reserved.