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Best Poems Written by Trevor Otis

Below are the all-time best Trevor Otis poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Breaking Uncertainty

A flame in my gut,
That is filling me whole.
My thoughts are a hurricane,
Out of control.

With eyes wide open,
I tear the dark veil. 
I have decided
I will not fail.

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Life's Clock

It can go in a flash,
Or crawl on all fours.
Never take it for granted,
Or waste it searching for more.

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Sapphire Heavens

‘Tis a land of forever night,
But ebony it is not.
The moons generously command the heavens
Shining ever so bright.
The brightest of all pure-blue
Moonlight.

The trio of grand lunar giants
Appear to lumber with great slumber
And horizontal perfection,
Across forever night skyways.
While, casting sapphire reflections
upon all.

The oceanic meadow grasses
Flutter and flit
In their own turquoise perfection.
Contrasting flora of glittering white
Stand out from this crystalline vista,
And that brightest of all pure-blue
Moonlight.

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The Final Reality

Hard, cold, and unforgiving places,
Complex in execution, yet simple, by design.
Knowing their place,
They never have to assert it, and that's fine.

Looming as the backdrop to society,
And sometimes shrouded in mystery.
They are invaluable to the world;
Containing literal history.

They march in ordered rows
Consisting of stone, and bone.
When the ritual is complete- in the body goes.
The shades and hues are always known,
Striking the perfect tone.

Through life we all moan and groan-
Having to deal with those who annoy us.
Yet do not fear, when dead and haunting fields of death,
You are forever alone.

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The Tabby of the Abbey

The rooms sit empty, disused as of late.
The worn, wood floors, now, creak without weight.
Halls once sang to the harmony of life;
To the steps of many – socks and sandals, rife.

The halls hum, now, to a different tune;
Soft tunes moving with the motions of the moon.
Still, there are the sounds of feet, near and far;
The feet of mice, little pink things, they are.

Still another step muffles all other.
Soft, padded toes on worn wood, cover
Great distance if needed, wished or wanted.
They are footfalls of a feline, taunted.

Those clever tricksters, also known as mice,
Are smart enough to fool any cat at least twice.
Though cleverness and trickery aren't needed,
Since fun is all that's ever been deeded. 

It’s said that “when the cats away, the mice play.”
Well, these mice have never missed a day’s play,
Since their purring friend stays, wholly, at bay
(Dubbing her: The Tabby of the Abbey).

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Writer's Block

As thoughts scramble within my head
I franticly ramble to get each one read.
The ones I miss as I randomly ramble
Fly in tens and weakly shamble.

On the surface they are freakily evil,   
While not far below they cause an upheaval.
At times the pressure has volcanic potency,
While carrying a weight of titanic dormancy.

And if left unchecked could bring deviation,
Then the exact opposite would bring levitation.
Now, since all this is true -- what's left to do?
I guess nothing... What else is new?

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Desert Bound

Wandering aimlessly alone, without fear,
Abused by the sun and its rays of hate.
My body is worn, but my mind is clear
Wandering aimlessly alone without fear.
I’ve come this far and my time is near,
Worry not, my love, I shall not be late
Wandering aimlessly alone without fear,
Abused by the sun and its rays of hate.

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Queen of Hideousness

Deep within Bellowserma’s heart,
Is said to be a being of horrific might.
With octal limbs,
And equal part eyes of night,
This beast of myth cares for none.

She hates all in sight,
And takes to devouring life slow.
She drains prey in a single bite,
Leaving a blighted husk to rot
In the forever-night.

With hideous love, 
She tends to her nest;
Her gruesome nest,
With gruesome care;
A care which never rests.

She scuttles about her woven home,
While Hissing at movement sounds.
She rarely leaves to roam,
Preferring to stay and organize 
Her mounds of bones.

Details | Trevor Otis Poem

Bellowserma Forest

A grand forest of majesty
Rests at the outer reaches
Of this grand land of mystery.
‘Tis mammoth in scale,
Thus overwhelming in scope.

Dense thickets stand guard
At the forest’s edge,
While not far beyond,
Oversized mushrooms wedge
Themselves among ancient
Quarried stone slabs.

For, within the forest proper
Is a once-forbidden ruin dubbed,
‘Bellowserma Stopper.’
It's intended purpose is no more,
And it's once-hidden eldritch lore
May be lost forever more.

Infinite emerald vines bind
And constrict the earthen remains.
Nature’s plans, here, are most unkind
In regards to the crafty hands
Of mankind.