Chatting poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of chatting poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on chatting are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Would it be okay if I sat here for a while, Maybe we could contemplate together, Others may not notice but I can see your smile, Its sincerity has changed just like the weather. I know you do not know
Time ticks away, Questions pour in Answers flow as crashing waves Against solid rocks The mute sky looks indifferent Is the era of clues over? Smilingly I pretend ease Watching, listening, chatting animatedly One eye on the clock Rhyming with
The wind, sitting on the branch Of the tamarind tree And chatting with the leaves, Was my enemy. When I get fire For the tip of pen In my writing room, He would encroach Through the bars of the window…
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
A sea of faces filtering in like a wave of humans causing movement. Noisily chatting about life, with no sense or purpose. Having no insight to gain an education nor goals in life. Journey in this path turned completely unpredictable
Today I realised how lucky I am, So many things we don’t understand, I seen the sad cold look in their eyes, The fact we cared was such a surprise. Some in hostels, some plain to see, The streets were
Heading to the city in a cab, I take a backseat and wave goodbye To my people, to my town I say – wait for my call, wait for my mail When back, I may tell you a tall tale.
Shattered to pieces I walked past thousands of many, But she stood besides me whether my life was dark or sunny. I didn’t realise that she was the only one who held my hand, When the whole world called me
I keep my silence but please don’t assume, That I don’t have much to say, I have have more than enough, I don’t let it consume, Each minute of my waking day. I see so much more than you think
It’s twilight in the city But my heart is beating fast, I’m waiting at the alter To meet my English Lass. I take her in my arms, And kiss her icy nose, Then we dance across the ball room Me
I remember you and all the things we used to do You’d think I’d cry going back in time recalling us But I’m over that now and all that remains are Sweet Memories, Sweet Memories of a past love Although
Will it rain tonight? And clean the gaping blisters? Wash away the dirt and slimy froths? Soften the scales and scabies? And will it make me pure again? Ah, let it rain tonight. Bro said, with icy looks, “Damn you,
They can’t resist the Calligraphy, Like the Disney movies, all eyes & ears glued there, Yeah, they fathom the science behind it, But No! Listen to the hits they make, like boom! Can’t help but break dance, The comfort my!
What is teenage do you really know? Biologically it’s the time you grow The time when hormones start to flow When when what you feel you can not show. Some say it is the time you start to fight You
It’s the middle of the exam season, I’m walking home from college, The same way I’ve always gone, Going over a few more notes on my phone. On my way, I pass a playground. Right in the middle, I see
This poem is On the basis of the thought written by Shakespeare in Julius Caesar , ” the fault dear brutus is not in our stars but in ourselves ” They searched and searched Their entire life For a fault
Love, what a beautiful addiction. Drug, with no prescription. Throughout life it is used, limits easily abused. Aroma, oh so sweet. Looks, sometimes a cheat. Yet, we take what we can get. Our greatest asset. With drugs come side effects:
It is neither end nor beginning, I am still suspended between punishments, primrose gives one answer, hollyhock another, I catch the moon in flight to west and enter a sand grain to probe the universe for the sexual selection of
Vanilla you smell so very sweet, good enough to eat. Vanilla you smell so sweet but yet your taste is bitter all alone. Vanilla mix you with sugar and you are home. A scrap here and there. A boil in
Photographs are time machines to the past. Instant moments in time reflecting back to current eyes. A street scene of Boston is hung on my wall a moment sliced out of time from 1893. Trolley cars side by side waggling
I did not hear the slightest sound, nor did I know if the insect had the ability to request assistance. But I am certain that he wanted out, and if he could speak a language understood by me, one word
There are lovely seasons beyond compare that each has its own beauty, spring offers a birth of life to so many flowers and trees. Summer is the warmest season of all, the sun is the strongest on the blue sky
A vehicle is here for your review: A 1946 used hatchback heart. Not near as shiny as when it was new, But all the parts are there and it will start. It’s true it needs a lot of body work
My friend the Wind- is a lady who changes- Personas with every dress! You can hear her voice- go up and down with- every lapel and pleat! Chagrined about her coif- she turns into a dust devil. Ginned again with
TURN Stones into blossoms Blossoms into flowers Never shall we fall Animosity into friendship Friendship into relationship Never shall we fall Vices into virtues Values of the great Never shall we fall One-step up one-step down Saves us, Dear God
The moment you appeared in my life to brighten it you took my breath away and stole away all darkness I could feel that you were the gift of god with an angelic power my thirsty eyes began to shed
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.
Does she have to bleed through her eyes? Does she have to cover the scars on her thighs? Does no one notice her dislocated shoulders? Does no one see her shiver as the weather turns colder? Do you look at
Some words are unspoken Some words are unseen We leave them all in a moment And never turn around to see Time and tide wait for none But my dear the exception is one Wait for a second and stand
Floaters swim in acrid clouds, I watch myself killed by me, the image was real, oracular ashen grey, sitting on a sand dune I listen to the silence of bending and roaring faults, the life repeats the mistake, possessed, chasing
I see the colours, say it’s time to play so bright I sit for hours, maybe a day just to watch them change their display On a summers morning things began to say you can catch the yellow and purple
“NO!”, she cried, running out of the fitting room. The wedding dress lay bleeding. So did her womb. Elsewhere, he took his last breath, lying on an unknown street.
We joked it was the bud Of a unicorn horn Assured by the Professionals It would fade as The fontanels shrank Shielding your sprouting brain Cradled it against cold and impact Yet it remained Darker than a bruise Hard like
A ball of bitterness in my chest It feeds on my soul Clogging my mind Slogging through my veins Flogging my sense of self It is louder than sound More persistent than love It muffles cries of desperation “You are
An awakening moon she is in wakeful dream, A fairy in all true sense, gracing your life’s bend. When you like a confused caravan standing before vast Desert of heart’s domain, In desperate quest for quenching thirst of mind, partly
Look deep my friend and soon you will discover a special assignment for only you The siren song of the bong is strong fuming sacraments to exclusive green parties Tie yourself to the mast deny the hot blast It’s clear-monkeys
We have one mother – mother India We have one father – Mahatma Gandhi We have one home – Bharat We have one religion – tolerance We have one flag – the tricolor We have one emblem – Ashoka pillar
Moments of pain, moments of peace Moments of space that I would seize If I could just have a moment or two I would love to spend those moments with you Moments of despair, moments of hope Moments of faith
Long ago When you mesmerized me by your delightful breathtaking figure I realized first time how close I was to scenic beauty I was infatuated with you by intoxicating smell of your body You would always carry mellowness in your
“You’ll be safe, I promise”, reassured his mum. “But its not you who’ll end up sat on your bum!” A conversation they’d had most every week but it didn’t make his knees feel any less weak. “Now come along, Harry,
