Trot poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of trot poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on trot are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Drown I want to in the sweet buzz you create, tunes of wilderness, in my ear, in my mind. Your hue I want to engulf myself, dance in bare nakedness, leave all shame behind, self behind. One whiff of you
Love carries a natural gust. Always fulfils souls’ thirst. Sees nothing but completion, Brings forth, that is hidden. Oh! It does, it does… Love knows no limits. It exists beyond infinite. It obeys no rules. It never makes one a
Laughing is good for your health Laughing at others shortens your mind Laughing at self broadens your mind Laughing without reasons is a sure sign of damage to brain Laughing to kill time is wasting your senses laughing at one’s
As she gazes from the eyes Of heaven’s Exquisite disbelief She recognizes her mother In nature’s beauty And she pauses to reflect On the tears she provides As rain, nurturing The lives of the All And finds such inexplicable Purity
I fell asleep at the wheel of my life In somnolent slumber I slid Cruising on blindly my eyes off the road While I from reality hid Days had no meaning, events left no mark Each breath unconsciously taken Smiling
There’s always something to say And we should come to GOD and pray, Whether we just cry, Or talk about hurting inside, We should always come to him and try. Just like the stars are perfectly placed Also is his
Light of illumination filled the tiny vortex of my mind A world colored river earth cloud and storm Forestry crosswinds and fire Ah natural madness beautiful madness A sweet perfect chaotic choir So I can drown snug in a sublime
Because of too many nightmares I’m visited by the dead those familiar persons with ordinary words with hobbies and bad habits so homy , we ride together on the horse or in the small car we fall asleep in the
The beauty of it all. Pulling something from nothing. Nurturing the created. Molding it shaping it. The song the art the science. All teased from the ether. All born into existence by consciousness. Without consciousness, there would be nothing.
Am unwell, perhaps the flu. I read an advertisement about a book exhibition and I think about you. Lots of books, little catches my fancy, poke around and pick a few, my eyes fall on a ‘Rs 50 only’ sign,
Her eyes hid a shade of beauty A sense of a deeper struggle, restrained behind dried up tears and sealed lips A tale of always searching for acceptance in mediocrity Next to a society determining what beauty is, from a
Driving my car across the country, numerous years ago, going to a new place, Changing who I’d know A loud bang broke the boredom and blue smoke filled the air, engine was A ’knocking, a sound beyond compare I rolled
How ever Rich one is When health deteriorates wealth do really stink How ever Poor one is when health ‘gives in He has no option then to fight it out Wealthy may feel secured in Life But always feel insecured
He lay asleep, a contemplative air, On the window ledge, in the warm morning sun. Seeming so beyond the reach of a care, And I believed all his worldly duties done. The world courtesies as it passes him by, As
Once I called you the love of my life now I’m starting to think twice… I can still hear you saying, “you won’t leave means if you do you’ll be back before dawn’s early morning light” I simply said, “goodbye
The moment my heart beat began in the safe domain of my mother’s womb was the moment my mother took charge of me Nine months of intensive care in her womb sacrificing her pleasure but enjoying every moment of her
I remember a time when life was alive with wondrous mysteries of carefree design; when clouds were fluffy and brilliant white with planes soaring high and then out of sight. Innocence of mind and a happier soul as we played
Neither the victim nor the convict I am the witness of my excruciating journey I saw myself rising I saw myself failing I tended myself alone sometimes even inflicted pain on my own self selfish as I am called I
They called me a king, back when I was still nothing. I knew they saw something, but I just couldn’t bear knowing… that I would never be a delicate instrument. Such as words said, uttered, written down on a piece,
Don’t stay away my dear, Valentine’s Day is knocking at the door. I am leaping with joy, When you would come and say hi ! Self-consolation is not fruitful, anymore, It is intolerable to tolerate your departure. Saint Valentine, may
A transient smile lights up a moonless landscape, catalyzing the woes of labour of hot arguments. A fragile peace prevails. When the plot thickens let me count the bodies in the domain of a wasted god. Meanwhile I will get
Don’t go to the forbidden hill! Once five men went to see. But three were killed by the fire From those flying chariots. And two were killed by them With fire-spitting weapons, To teach others a lesson. You know, the
Well you’re one hopeless romantic Almost a border line lovesick fanatic But I wouldn’t change you not if I could I love your wet and sappy kisses And the way you hold me so tight I think I’m gonna pass
A difference in the style of the work More lines maybe less in an ordinary word. Still learning and grasping at my views like sounding like a thunder storm in early summer. A sun is shining like an image of
Atop a windswept highland hill above Locheil land Clansmen gathered roun and shook the prince’s haun They raised the standard high cheered till they were hoarse Followed the flying heron across the highland gorse. A,wa tae London toon wi hopes
She’s our little-fairy-queen For whom we did pine. A wail thro’ her lips Brings us flocking to her crib. To assuage that helpless gaze, On that sweet innocent face. A smile breaks her wail On a familiar face to hail.
The danger lurks in corner. After double helix, Now cobalt pencil writes the history of mankind. Dirty bomb gives determinate meaning of peace. I turn back to be eaten alive. Like a blade of grass you bend for the cuckoo.
driving into twilight a warm day smelling of road dust crops in the field their low green bodies growing duller as the headlights come on the radio stations change format from news to music crepuscular animals are creep out skunks
Self imposed sabbatical is nearly coming to end Time stood as witness all along as true friend Trials it has withstood tribulations too of sort Few were as expected some awfully fell short It needs introspecting to re jig and
Lamps and lanterns left afloat Adrift by the golden boat A young girl lay sleeping within Covered in silvery cloaks thin The current glowed golden in the light The beauty like a magical sight Thousands of twinkling sparks A lovely