Trial poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of trial poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on trial are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Liquidity crunch turns you into lip slave. The candlelight bed has the broken legs. Asleep by the boat you sway in dark. You are still a number in the books to be fed. A jigsaw puzzle in the economic boom
Here I am, Standing in the dock once again. For the evil one had sought and gotten an appeal of God’s prior judgement. With his legal standing, The devil named me as the respondent. And intiatiated the service of progress
I have a box and that’s for a fact- from which an act is being lead. With scripts of wild puns that overlap, it banters back while remaining intact! Equipped with taunting realizations that retort- with hiss as they push
When lips seek lips to quench a thirst of passion… Freedom slackens a knot in its belly and gasps!!! When limbs entangle in an embrace of abandon freedom.. comprehension gets drowned in the deluge of an emotional erotic Freedom between
One beautiful Sunday afternoon, down by the valley where the waters cascading down the rocks upon the stony bed I sat, lost in reverie on my life continuous struggles when His shadows appeared, silhouetted against the fading sun upon the
The air was thin, while the room was hot, My eyes scanning, spotting the warm glow of a dress, She whizzed and whirled, her youthful gait attendant to my plot, Two legs in unison, eyes like gilded jewels, breasts like
The mother knows compassion and grants permission the father accepts responsibility and manifests reality the child is born and experiences god directly the adolescent unfortunately forgets its connection to the divine the teacher shares self-evident truths and growth occurs the
Truth is I’m just another woman forced to face The crime of a close friend Truth is where I come from everything is allowed except peace From hookers and hoes to junkies and crack babies From victims turned murderers To
You went blank on the line between sand and water, between seizure and assault. The tribes have unwrapped their torches, they are coming in numbers. Who was going on trial? Fierce fidelity is demanding vendetta. The drummer announces the fight.
Have I been born of a curse; Rehearse The station just burst, A hole through it first; So it is like to be at the mercy, of this jury decided on perjury. A trial without annihilating the evil inside me,
The angel of friendship rumoured of an affair with a demon; The legacy of beings of every Earth Lives through its connections. A tale of geese of the morning sky, Pose as a ‘V’, glorifying amity. Owing to misapprehension of
Chastened by expectations. Seasoned by trial. All journeys begin the same. Roads diverge, yet all end at the same destination. Experiences vary, stories differ. But the results the same. Progress occurs by the nectar left behind. In this way, the
Dr. Maximillan Williams is some kind of brilliant; Too bad he has to, in fact, be a villain. In his classes he was always the quietest, Lost in deep thoughts about the sciences, Perpetually tinkering with newfangled appliances, Never the
Poem Dedicated To My Father Late Moinuddin Hasan–An Ideal Teacher- BEFORE TEACHERS’ DAY Moinuddin was his name,eloquent, which means— One who is an aide to faith and for that weens He lost his father when only six months and mother,
Weaving fine fibres of unripe beliefs, from a fire base, a blue bird scrambles, shading the stone valley. There was no thrift for the cadavers. The burnt relics were eating away the greens of tearful eyes. Sun was slugging again.
It has been a long drive of fifty years and odd stumbled,edged,raced,soared,jumped all odds and silly games yet all meaningful. a stint at art, a trial at music, a full fledged love and a hard earned indifference, a gritty fight
For you expressed that which touches climax of love Sounds resonant, pours honey in soul, nay above–Say again In utter awe I forgot whether it was acceptance or denial The second sentence of your version my sense’s trial–Say again You
Without being abandoned in the darkest room Incandescent light would be a mere shade Without trial and experiments Success would be worthless Without birth and death Life would be stagnant Without love and compassion World would be void. Without springs
The allure of ‘what ifs’, ungratefully moves, outside her niches, to break or make a dreamer’s riches; Her sweet fragrance to clog the air, O mistress blind, lovely and fair. Walking his truth, his ground unmoved, so the clouds of
Don’t look deep into my eyes, who knows what you find inside? Is it the dreams that I lovingly hide, or are some demons residing inside. Am too afraid to let you know, Even too scared to make the show.
Blood was in season, on your hands. A staged encounter mauling the clouds. Into a hare, you put the lead with a roar of gun and sun wants his share. Beneath the honours lies the guilt of a ravaged moon.
He, making his own cast. You knew it. Unique mystique of transparency. You could not touch him. Walking ahead of the sun, long shadow, sweating it out, pungent odor. Innocence hung from desiccated tongue, he preserved original speech before falling
Her wings were tidy, a little flutter now and then, She was always so close, to finally grasp her dream, So, when that day had finally come, that woman’s wings were clipped, She needed to let go, therefore, she flew
The moments seem endless, Entwined in the seamless mind, Days go by in seconds, Hapless and breathless. The beats of the heart, Not the ticking of the clock, Wait endlessly, For a hello or goodbye. Lost in the sands of
Life it seems is crazy, but crazy kind of good, Finally things are turning out the way they should, Finally I’m standing right where I should be, I’m ready but I question is the world ready for me? I see
The star happily winks at us Like a prodigious son of the night He twinkles amusingly on us With his everlasting glittering light. He caringly watches over us And peeps peacefully at our dreams Gracefully handing shy beams With every
True and sacred relations are made for each other Two hearts met first time in the college To begin an unhackneyed relationship Together they had cup of coffee Together they studied in library The friendship grew into love one day
To die by the sea, Must be the sweetest of deaths. Just lulled by your sins, Into the sands of regrets. And soaked in your pains, Through the angers of tridents. Or washed in the darkness, Beneath the heaviest of