Celebrations poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of celebrations poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on celebrations are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Once my husband brought a pair of white pigeons, Very beautiful with red eyes and lush red beaks. Extremely gorgeous with glorious visions, In our mother tongue we call it Laqa-kabootar. A special species of sweet white pigeons, In golden
It is that time again for all we have lost to be regained and our weaknesses to be strengthened and bent choices to be straightened. Come join me, let us rejoice make your choice because life is what we make
“A young, bubbly lass once I saw, Tall, dusky and a charming smile she wore. Like all little girls, she waited in anticipation, Of a handsome young man, Who’d love her like no one. Her little follies he would overlook,
Trying to follow truth his journey was nightmarish. Alchemic fusion with past and future failed – his bowl was still empty. In the inner space a largesse, free of present, becomes the pain of perfection! Now what to do next?
A queer experience it is A feeling that defies description An emotion beyond expression Giving a daughter away , you don’t know how to name it . Is it a sense of self appreciation at having performed a parental duty
On birth, crying makes our entry On death, silence marks our exit In between our birth and death turmoils all the while exist We celebrate Birthday with pomp and excitement Trauma of life preceding the birth day are kept in
There is a woman I love, I call her my sister We spent only two years, little time together Yet, as the time passed we grew closer On the first day in hostel, a late night conversation Soon turned into
Smudged on the horizon, Beneath the uncaring gray clouds, Farewell of the year Fireworks set out, And the ink drips down to nothingness. Life goes on. But pain has the gift of rekindling, And heart is it’s faithful torchbearer –
Friend, not a companion but one who understands. Years, distance and time does not come between us. How pleasant are our sparse reunions. You’ve comforted, have always been there for me. Not only in my hour of need but also
Life appears routine during normal times routine changes to celebrations on festivals routine may turn into agony on death routine may suddenly appear monstrous on set backs routine may feel soothing on day of disturbances routine may look un harmful
The crowd buzzed like a hornet’s nest The cacophony too loud The girl on stage was all alone Staring beyond the crowd The colours around All red and yellow meant to reflect The bridal glow Spectators sitting Speculations were rife
Are angelic neurons fleshing inside a trans-Inquisition tavern? Another kind of speaking, pontificating globe? Can we feel the burning and sexing of the four seasons with the four elements, recycling earth, water, air, fire, to produce the quintessence of your
Let us go then, you and I… Let us go then… Tired? Surprisingly, we have been saying this a hundred years. It haunts. The hallucination continues. No, it leap-frogs. Eliot was dead before I was born, before we were born.
I searched in vain for the perfect word to explain to ensure it’s heard I searched and searched in the dictionary I ransacked all the vocabulary I dissected each word’s etymology But it seems it’s an impossibility some feelings can’t
A miserable hospital scene, with shouts and painful sobs, With fractures, wounds and injuries of various calamities, And my friend, one among them, cancerous, with no hope, Not weeping, but talking and laughing, as he was, years back, In our
Work for your day – Satisfaction is what you ultimately crave. Die each day, do you wish to celebrate THE day? Laugh off every sting that penetrates. Deep inside it recovers and sprouts the ache. Laugh at the moment, for
Deeper as it dredged, I came empty That’s how dishonesty swept happiness out of me, My mood was left uneasy I was disturbed. I was overstimulated. While the sun beams at the window, the day has ended for me But
Don’t tell on me, but yes, I can’t breathe no more, This smile concealing my frightened soul, I can’t take no more, Don’t tell on me; have lost myself in all these, I’m just a walking robot, no one sees
Yesterday as I was walking, talking to myself, thinking, pondering, My head was like a carousel! With a song in my head, As I walked past the field of wild fern, the one I daily walk by, I watched these
There is this smile again, The curve I never thought I would gain. This feeling of being thrown off a cliff, Worth taking the risk. There is this pain again, Trying to make you happy but in vain. This feeling
Sometimes when you don’t see me In a path you are heading to, Just look behind, You will always find me following you. Sometimes when you don’t need me At a point when you have everything with you, But anytime
Call me time and again an incurable romantic. accuse me offensively of revering unrealism. laugh at me heartlessly for I over-idealize you. or just leave me forlorn, if I’m gallingly tractable. but I’ve a warm, not weak, heart. I sincerely
It was a freak accident of epithelium under anaesthesia. You place a window on to a hollow brain. The money makes the monkey out of you. A green light blocks the fish, your memory, to swim in black thoughts. The
The night that breeds dark clouds of rankling dolour Within azure sky of my mind’s great earth, Delusive affection of thine enlivened fervour, Of joy of life and lustre triggers dearth. Thou rememb’rest those fragrant ways trodden, Back i’th’ longest
I was aware My breath was not the same His presence sank in me such I feel him in every drop of rain Pain,anger and intense moments Life’s become a fast trail The destination is worthless now Journey my only
He operates a picayune business– A tea stall with very little eatables People expect in such stalls And look at him with surprise But he remains unmoved He has his own shabby style of living He carries on business in
I gaze through my door expecting her arrival; Wish she sees me for I am not her rival!!! I stare her window, pretending to be innocent; But her dad stares at me, through the balcony vent!! Developing my fullest courage
It was midnight moon cruising in the bedroom. I step aside in the depressed window, watch the overwhelming spillover. I listen, then do not listen to alien voices of bipolar beings, speaking Aryan, artfully in cryptic signs crunching the bones.
Since decades long ago, one wish unreached, Still haunts my soul with all tenacity; I know the Devil has my fences breached, And might have crept right through my sanity; The call of pride keeps dinning in my ears, Like
What if, the world wasn’t so swift? It wouldn’t be adrift and caught in an awful rift. What if we acknowledge each other as sisters and brothers? Instead of separation we become a congregation, under GOD one nation. From your
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.
Sorrow & comfort, Opposite extremes. Wisdom invites each soul to those scenes. Terms of life are never all kind, riddled with strife, leave achieves behind. Highest expressions Can make one so tall, But unbridled grief will cause one to fall.
The smoke rises higher and the fire’s centre burned so bright We all sat around it as if transfixed by its almighty rite The shadows we create cannot penetrate its heat We burn some rabbit from this afternoon and feast,
Long staring see umbrellas and outfits overexposure occurs contrast fades subtle shapes vanish impasto stands clear gouges, ridges nose breaking free of a rugged face a glacier calving touch the membrane between universes sometimes this way sometimes in dreams energy