Trolley Poems | Examples

The Shopping Trolley

Early morning 
and it is still dark.
An abandoned 
shopping trolley stands alone
in the centre of the car park.
I take pity and return it back
to its home and the company
of its own kind where it
rejoins the others 
in their long coitus line.

Wheels Up

Why does the trolley
dolly or cart
I choose to use
in every supermart
always have a wonky wobbly wheel
and feel oh so wearing
as if it's about to lose
its marbles or ball bearings?
It clunks like junk with a 'thunking' sound
and almost dumps
my groceries on the ground
won't go straight
invariably tilts veers
careens or curves
and without a doubt
indubitably gets on my nerves

Evening Trolley-Car

The sunrays huddles beneath clouds
Horizon as still night enshrouds.

The busy city starts to sleep
As clouds still continues to weep.

Late-night passerby most gracious
Passengers restlessly anxious.

The evening trolley-car arrives
Passengers bound to their home lives.

Within hearts and life paradise
Fervent souls with their sacrifice.

5/12/2023

Trolley Dolly

Christopher Robin’s thinking of Alice
But she wasn't with him there 
Alice was above the Indian Ocean 
Ten thousand feet up in the Air,
Working as a Trolley Dolly
First Class Section, Exotic Air Line,
Mixing with the Jet Set and
Finding life suited her just fine.

She’d joined the Mile High Club,
Just to give it a try
Wondering if making love was different
Performed way up in the sky.
So many beautiful people seen daily
In her normal working life,
Maybe the  chance of becoming
A very rich man’s wife.

Alice loved her occupation
Of which she was justly proud
Until one day her airliner
Just disappeared into a cloud.
Christopher Robin mourned his Alice
Thought of all those things he didn’t say
Then he sadly closed his heart
And let life take him on its way.

Trolley and Truck

There was a lady named Polly
                          Oh, , she loved to ride the trolley
                                   Until dementia struck
                               And she jumped on a truck
               Thought she was Jane and ran off with Wally


Heidi Sands 

7/23/22

The Trolley May Run Out of Gas

Or translates to "I almost ran out of gas on the trolley today!"
An ode to my day!
On Trolley! New billows sweep thee out
Upward. What wilt thou? Hold that hill, be stout
Gas'st not thy mast
Now rent by stiff South Hill's blast? 
Thy side, of passengers now forlorn?
Thine tank, with groaning gauges say
"Though cannot sustain, 
The three more blocks to thy port!"

Off Your Trolley

Crazed San Francisco to Mad New Orleans~~who's off his trolley~~but ME!


2020 January 25
Who Flips your Trolley Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Bobby May

Little Red Trolley

In the heat and rain , upon tracks rusted and bare
A little red trolley sits, remembering former days 
Of horse drawn carriages, filled with new marriages
Of clanging bells and merry people,
Doing chores,or walking into stores 
Rolling hills and long tall steeples
Weathered stones in grass covered cemeteries
Busy times filled with haunted memories 
Rising from the haze of long forgotten days

The Trolley Man

He couldn’t find a place to stay
So living on the street was his only way
Until a Friday in Bourke Street Melbourne town
A Terrorist set fire to a utility with gas bottles piled ‘round

And an innocent man was stabbed to death
By the Terrorist with a knife in danger’s breath
A struggle ensued with the police 
Trolley man stepped in to help in the police relief

Lashing out with a knife danger bound
He helped corral the Terrorist going down
Instead of leaving to back away
He assisted the police in a courageous stay.

So now we honour him
For bravery shown in a courageous hymn
Terrorist is such a modern scourge 
To stand up to it Trolley Man was there without urge.

© Paul Warren Poetry

Susan Rode the Trolley To the Train To Houston To Buy a Special Dolly

SUSAN RODE THE TROLLEY TO THE TRAIN TO HOUSTON
 TO BUY A SPECIAL DOLLY

Oh! gee ooh-wee golly, golly;
Rode the tracks of the long trolley;
Little girl named Susan;
Rode the train to Houston;
To toy store purchased a dolly;

    6/19/18
written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018

Tea Trolley Lady

In the morning I wear a head scarf, 
With glasses, I smoke a dart,
I push the tea trolley, with tea and coffee,
And the cookies- a la carte.

By day I’m the invisible woman,
Predictably safe and tame,
But, it’s when the moon comes up, 
That things just aren’t the same,

I change in the witching hour, 
To Rhiannon of the night,
Draped in black sheer down my body, 
Over the leather that hugs me tight.

By three I become your elusive dream, 
Your fleeting ephemeral bubble,
I am your safe little tea lady that,
By night, invokes the trouble.

Spring On a Trolley Car

Like the Sun
a trolley car
Is bound to the tracks

Like the Sun
A trolley car
follows an elliptical path

Like sunflowers
People need the Sun
For life

The Sun journeys on the dark side of things
And the people have no choice but to follow

But I do not follow exactly
I am like a satellite
I am the Moon
And follow my own path
But also the Sun

When the Sun 
Like HORUS-RA
Enters the underbelly of the Earth

I as the Moon
Follows too
But on my own path

I as the Moon
I am HECATE-ISIS
Break through the dark side
And through a separate portal
That the Sun does not follow

I as the Moon
Can see the Sun
In the distance
on the right hand of ascension 

But we journey
Together as One through the dark side
The Sun in alignment with the Moon
The Moon in alignment with the Sun

But we journey
Together as One through the dark side
Of the Universal Galactic Elliptic Plan

But we journey
Together as One
Like a trolley car in a deep tunnel
With passengers from multicolored aspects
On our destination to a beautiful morning Spring horizon

Empty Trolley

Empty Trolley 

The supermarket
Has got its own 
Bell tower
Like a modern church
For capitalism
Hundreds of shops
Selling the obvious
Garish colours
An ice-rink
Many restaurants
Selling
Unhealthy food
There is no art here
Very little to see
If you do not care
About
High heeled shoes 
And burgers

A Racist Shopping Trolley

I’m a racist shopping trolley, 
I’m proud and happy and clean.
I don’t like hanging around with trolleys rescued from the river, 
Beaten up all rusty, and mouldy, and green.

I’m proud I look after my wheels,
Never crashing into shelves in the store.
I can’t stand those horrible trolleys that let themselves go,
Making folks fight an unwinnable war.

I’m a racist shopping trolley,
I’ve a bright red handle and red baby seat.
I can’t stand those blue handled trolleys, they look so different to me,
They can’t even try to look red, I know, I’m better, I am elite.

Our Sweet Trolley

Our lips touch softly
Craving for more
Hugging closely
Not wanting to let go
Needing you so intensely
Holding your body 
Next to mine so tenderly
Glancing into your eyes
Captivates me with an
Overflowing desire
Our sweet trolley
So full of wondrous delight 
Hunger burning
As we lightly touch
Sending each other
Floating away
We lay hypnotised
Snuggled together as one
Just being with you
Fills my heart
With love
That keeps on flowing

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