Tremor poems bring the best collection of short and long tremor poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great tremor rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these tremor poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on tremor are here for you.
Reduced…tamed to but a whisper is thy breathe Years have whittled the sharpness of its point Be my heart’s voice muted faint..tacit Thy beat bursts all manner of restraint Roiled palpable is my ascending love of you, scents dance tenderly
Soft night wrapped us deeply in her fold whole area changed to a garden of dreams. Tremor began like a snake’s movement darkness melts, our hearts leapt to throat, we rushed for shelter under the starry canopy, but hasty movements
Terrifying it was When sun completed half of its routine journey A tremor overpowered unexpectedly We heard about earthquake but never experienced before It remained though minutes but disasters unheard streaked Like wave of thunder light Almost all came out
You’re welcome in! I’ve seen you…. In my dreams, as in life, echoing the velvet onyx abyss of your soulless heart, And sweetly enshrouded with the eternal stench of history’s charm. The doors, portcullis to my chamber, lay stark wide,
When in fragments I view myself My judgement based on a trifling Or not so trifling that has roused A tremor of mistrust and misgiving Momentarily rubbing my claim to A greater understanding of life situation Enough to cause a
A sudden tremor with a mighty shake Millions of lives does it take Houses broken and trees shaken Mighty hills all prone to cracken. Peace stolen by cracks so deep A twist it brings in life so steep A crisis
Each day was not so different, But one fine day everything started to take on colours The world seemed to be a beautiful place to live on, But this lasted not long. Leaving all his promises, He bade you a
As I have aged and looked back in time I Wonder do Others minds think like mine. My knuckles have knurled, Hands have wrinkled in time. Skin browned and aged spots, Face cracked and crevassed, Sagging skin from sun and
Mid this commemoration, Of annihilation Of inclinations And pursuits, My soul revels In these fervent goodbyes. The stiff and the spiritless, Scream my name. They exult and glorify This celebration. Agony, Candid in it’s certainty, Leaves always, To re appear
You’re lingering when the rain falls after a spell of dry that calls Give me the sweet scents when you hit the ground just like those scenes tied me around You’re the only memory that I can remember when my
The birds are so bright with their song The rain from the night still lingers on The coldness of the breeze cuts surprisingly long The darkness turns to light and to the day you now belong The slumbering sleep becomes
Run along the gentle slope, And meet me by the tire swing. Smell of dry grasses rides the air, Opium clouds sleeping feverishly above, Hot rainwater sloshes gently, In the belly of the tire. This solitary tree, Filled with broken
The bushes, I remember, have been there in the tales of my love! The breath, the tears, and the aura of virgin forest – The art, the sighs, the darkness, the motorcycle, the roads, the unending journeys, have been there!
Cross– the first and best Christmas tree Raised aloft on the Mount of Calvary; Had for all around gifts enough Paid by pain from hardest stuff: Iron, steel and animal hide While Mother Mary anguished deep inside At the foot
When insects were crawling dreams had contradictions, a sudden drop in temperature brought the quantum touch. Ending of the grief or grief of ending rejected every intact truth and death was trailing behind the candle. Fear and agony were following
You’ll often see them running and chasing across the plains, a rabbit skipping and laughing at an eagle, in great pains. But why’s the eagle running, surely he can fly? Sadly he’s afraid of heights and frightened he may die.
The voice of good education Echoes through the hall Drowning out even the droning of the fan Solid silence suspended above and between Minds being moulded into something acceptable This is the way forward, we are told The only way
How to come to terms with events bygone? How to come to terms with things left undone? How can I cope with all those regrets? All those unfinished tasks, all those words left unsaid! All those dreams, abandoned midway. When
Liars are them who say aren’t afraid of the dark. Monsters under them bed they fear… The howl of wolf at a distance they hear… Liars are them who say they aren’t afraid of the dark. Marshy creeks. Silence shrieks.
Were I decreed a free choice of fate, Insouciant orioles! We shall be one! Gold-tainted-black, early morn or late, I flit-flirt with you in the sun. No gravity of custom flags me down No laws forbid me to fly, flit
The pomegranate burst apart in a shower of purple-red spray and blunt red teeth disproving the chic appeal of white upholstery we cleaned the crime scene long hours on our knees soaking cloths with tart white vinegar and dabbing away
After the flood had gone A wreckage of human waste we come Seas have shattered the lives of some I know we must rebuild as the tide succumbed Nowhere to live, not even clothes to put on Nature tells us
Believe when drunken butterflies fuel: a burst of iridescence over furred fields where the blue tongue of anemones leer; and fever of shadows sting. Trees adorn their pristine bloom, rapt and oozing orange sap beneath the provident music of birds,
I myself have experienced what they say a feeling that comes from your heart a feeling that doesn’t come everyday But if misused, becomes a poisonous dart. It’s not only about pleasure It’s not really a must The real treasure