Tropics poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of tropics poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on tropics are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
It wasn’t me who invented love by ignorance the same way the painter doesn’t have the heart to mix pure colors it was there in the times when I used to swot the differences between useful, beautiful and pleasing first
Sun glistening off the tropical bay. White cotton balls float by reflecting Suns rays. Surf down below melodically soothing the way. Vistas of ocean from the left to the right, spotted with green jewels enhancing the sight Sea birds floating
In the heavenly abode of dense tropics , lies mighty Ashoka, medicinal Neem and ancient Banyan recounting tales of bygone era , mingling with smiling primrose , naughty berries , listening to roaring lion , chatting cuckoo, all living together
Picture a diamond spinning against the dark, flinging back the brilliance of a sun. Move a little closer – you’ll be stunned how lakes and oceans flash, how ice-caps spark. Zoom in lower still and see the forests, so vibrant,
I ran away from you to strange cities. But at every corner, I ran into you. The fresh sea water carried whiffs of you. The little boys on bicycles spoke in your voice. The surf tickled my toes with your
Nations and nationalities, you are not chocolate, you are the sweetest Jam cooked from bitter labour! You are the original egg, the supreme cause of war and peace! You are the homeland of the rising sun and moon. You are
Ain’t it a paradise when you see, all things beautiful, white and grey? When the melodies of life lit up in glee, all things surreal painted in this air. Ain’t it a heaven as you crawl and beckon, the white
I will cross the twilight zone to meet you in zero space negating the fear. The mauled city strikes the dumb sky in unilateral war. Coming from a bleeding torso a scream agitates the dolls playing with pebbles. Flaming death
Something impossible would happen. Truth was too much to operate, life was easy with fakes. Neither mortal pain, nor needles would mend the wounds. The chasm was deepening. And I stitch the orange lights with the kisses of green tears.
There’s good and bad in everything I guess that’s just the way of this thing we call life but without pain and sorrow we wouldn’t learn anything, we need a little rain in our lives for our souls to grow
Life is a series of relationships, Which come & go as time drips. A consolidated sequence of life is lew, But the list of happy moments are few. Living life with that only one, And not an analogy of some.
Look into my eyes when you’re close to me: I want to lose myself in deeper waters than the sea, To drown me in heavens more distant as the farthest star, To feel that finding myself is not something impossible!
Walking with a heavy heart Am I moving from future to past? Those happy colours of life Are they being discoloured by continuos strives? Those frank laughs and talks And those innocent smiles and all Have they become just a
Robbing the silence of heights to undo the whole sky, you lean on an enigma to become reverential, elevated by an absurd system; I was still pursuing fidelity in the rubble of meaningless life; not faith, but the certain urge
We have tasted the warmth of passion for the first time since the departure of the Fallen One. Its tender sweetness has almost been forgotten on our tongue. The Traveler has impacted us more than we thought possible. Such intensity
Every day, for every day when you start your day Look towards Jesus and give Him praise, endless praise Praise to Jesus for His love freely, perfectly given Praise to His glory, His power and mercy Praise to one day
My waking hours are now engulfed in dreams, Reality became a twilight maze, An interlude between silvery beams, And tropic sun’s scorching, hot, blinding blaze; As shroud of night darkens to shadows deep, And dark blue skies acquire a sleepy
Isolation from time and present existence, The air dabs a little splash of peace, Sometimes as a massage, sometimes as a scratch, Both share a bit of pain, But as a virgin to pleasure it feels all the same, It’s
Service was slow everyone else seemed to be getting their food everyone else was white three slim girls dressed for public school, jeans and tennis shoes hair braided, teeth perfect asking the waiter could they have their water refilled and
Led down from the tower Head high and hands bound Blindfold declined against the wall Black square pinned to his heart Eyes afire and shining proud He sang… He sang of Caruso, Townes Van Zandt Pavarotti, Bocelli, Mercury, Carreras, he
I have agreed to cede an unwritten moon in a killing frenzy, for a chequered spirituality. Now visitation will start ravishing the light at dawn. The grievers will assemble for a final scoop of dust. Forgive my star, for a
In early spring, The Indian Paintbrush, A lush plant, Begins appearing in every color of the spectrum. Continually blooming throughout the summer, Across Dad’s trap-line. The spectrum of colors, Indicate the different minerals that are found in the soil. The
What day is it? Its today. The only day in existence. Yesterday is gone, tomorrow doesn’t exist. So don’t live in the past. And plan today for your future because today is the only day you will ever have. live in
She gave us life. She will be someone’s wife. She is a girlfriend and someone’s best friend. She is a sister and a survivor to the end. When you struggle she pull you through and help you again. All of
Life has become a race where everyone are trying to keep up their pace, where there is no time to go into the waters,where the paper boats row Running the race busily for our lives like the bees in the
A curse and a blessing sometimes you lose, sometimes you win, somewhere between darkness and dawn a candle in the wind… I take it to the heart, I take it on the run crossing some crazy state line one more
Emily was a recluse a quiet introvert she sat alone penning poems wrought with pain and hurt a lady great I do relate I too crave solitude though in her verse she did not curse and mine sometimes are crude
Oh sweet little flower Tell me what grieves your heart Did June send no shower That your small joys depart? Just nearby is a brook With waters crystal clear If you care, take a look Not a thing there to
As lovely as the bright night the trees filled with glimmer as they tremble with tears dripping from their limbs. Glaring in a distance at the pole wires busy with droplets trying to make their way to safety as if
When every star is blanketed including heaven’s gate, who will paint the colours of sunrise on the lake. When hearing is of thunder with splitting huricanes, whe can sing of love of life. When speeches all run out of words
My memories have become nomads, And they come back all at once. Like strangers from myriad surreal lands, Or a thousand prodigal sons. How far from home, we have strayed mother! From that sunny dreaming hearth, So my memories seem
When Mum first presented you I thought you were a trick. Your attempts to buy me off with a Metallica C.D. demonstrated your pettiness. I didn’t say anything at the time ‘cos I didn’t want to hurt her feelings in