Diary Poems

who knifed my wife; who took her soul I do not know, I loved her so was hard to see her bloody body lying lifeless, an empty mess I do not know who knifed my wife, I was there that

I wept at your funeral, saddest to the core of my heart… At home I found your diary…remnants of your soul; You died so young! With so much to do, The world needed you, so did I, Why did you

The day I put on the glossy red lip colour And a white dress plump as an umbrella A big sigh of relief let out my own mother Glimmered dribbling teardrops in my eyes Saw I smiles around and heard

Scribbling down the essence of my heart, Writing down the unsaid words so easily, Hiding it with those blank pages, Which will be filled with the same sweet agony, How I know the pre-written destiny, And still giving my all

The heart that refused to beat ever again, broke mine. I know now I have been heart broken only once No it was not low scores in a test Not a crush ignoring me A guy two timing No it

Writing on sleeves to remember your departure and becoming a stray cloud. The maternal touch of the sky, you can sleep whole life on dense logics. White sheets were burning unannounced in the home. I lost the key, to open

He went under pile of words to tie the thread of understanding but was stoned to death. They put the piglets in liquid nitrogen for future generations to study. The point of departure had come. Navel-gazing was the best pastime

Unthinkable. Lithograph of a malaise. I cannot talk. Will you abandon the thought and care about the drowning dawn? The bandaged ego of the book threatens the reader. Come and solve the puzzle of poetry. Everything was quiet except the

I can feel it of what you can only catch a glimpse the reflection of wonders I felt as they appear through my ink. Never was I gonna narrate to every best friend for its charm goes awry as the

A new morning It has started sunning A fresh day Still on my bed lay The bright sun is here to shine again Today has its loss and gain I want a new blessing ‘cos it’s a new morning The

Poems. They love. They fight. They can keep you up all night. They know what you think. They laugh, smile and wink. They stand by you, they heal. They know how you feel. Now touch a poem and see it

I didn’t much want to admit it, I was fine gathering dust on the shelf, But the day that I posted My first poem online, I messed up and I “outed” myself. I’m not what you’d call a great thinker,

Everybody has a story, ’tis writ in every face the lines etched, deep as the wrinkles of age.. . Everybody has a story, be it early or late, a life being lived has a tale to relate.. . Everybody has

Like every morning, he has just returned from his office and is right in-front of one of his roommate and so called friend’s lappy’; Going through all previous messages sent by her on Facebook. No doubt, his life has been

Our own little world of words where we write and we read where we talk and we listen! Until all the dark turns to a light that glisten! Sometimes I do feel, There should be a door, That I can

Now let poetry flap its wings and sing to the sky in a language that not just carries a rich literary history but is also close to the heart in an unexplainable way. HighOnPoems launches the most awaited Hindi Poetry

How will I forget the sunny day when I was repeating the routine of usual Sunday I was looking at the canopy from where the rays came oh god !! I was feeling so lame I could feel the rays

Hidden deep into the stack of memories was my diary, a small pocket book not the usual bulky planner. Yesterday, I stumbled upon it, as I lay on grass and it lay somewhere there, dusting for many a year, waiting

पन्ने पुराने भीग गए मौसम सुहाने चले गए यूँ ही कुछ कहना छोड़ दिया मैंने अब लिखना छोड़ दिया मैंने, मेरे जज़्बात स्याही के साथ घुल गए जो लिखना चाहा तो पानी के संग बह गए इस कशमकश से बचने

लिखना मुझे, ना आता था उसने सिखा दिया, उस पहली, नज़र ने मुझे शायर बना दिया, दीवानगी से, अनजान था उसने दीवाना कर दिया, उस एक, मुस्कुराहट ने मुझे शायर बना दिया, मंज़र, ना कभी ज़ालिम था क़त्ल मेरा उसने

Well and in my great big book of life there have been many, many chapters full of romance heartbreak and secrets I’d never wanna come out and the death of loved ones that’ll always pain me but Turning the Page

As the ink flows and the heart glows, While your words rejoice in an enormous light, How do you come up with another set of questions? And still have a peaceful plight.. Trust your instinct within, Feed your fire, fuel

I never really liked you Like an orange thrown at a wall Impacting then falling straight to the floor So composed and cool I wanted to be you or build a shrine I’d let you sleep on my pillow to

the devil is a trickster can’t find him in Twisted Sister sorry that I missed her aim to fame was through the flames eating Cheetos got your juice frozen got thoughts of the ocean sifting through the latest trends some

He did not read my diary left open, to know my kind Just read that middle page from his age set mind If only he had the time and patience That would have checked him by his conscience To read

रुख हवाओं का बदल दिया है कहता है इंसान मैंने ज़माना बदल दिया है, कामयाबी हासिल करने की चाहत थी छुपन छुपाई खेलती हमसे हमारी किस्मत थी, आख़िर किस्मत का पलड़ा अपनी तरफ़ किया है कहता है इंसान मैंने ज़माना

light frosting her lenses strobing as traffic flits by craziness of a zombie snail flashing visions of worlds as yet unbuilt just a woman dressed for winter striding proud in knee-length boots could be anyone then she’s gone these rapid

Your name seems to be carved on the heart since ages, You definitely have captivated every bit of it in cages, It is all yours forever, Oh dear, don’t leave me ever, I write your name sometimes on the shore,

O my Valentine….a sound with pleasant smile For the sad faces It seems like exile Having a relish love They look like a dove Taste you too…. Nothing I can do That’s so peculiar That’s so unfamiliar Except you, nothing

(1) Here I am bathing, this winter, like an antelope under rain showers. God’s voice is still walking on clay laid out from the beginning of time up to the end of earth. The first woman’s eyelashes are scattering from

A scourge Of mankind. Hate A person Before we talk and walk That is no way Right. It is every way Wrong. want a special kind Of prejudice. wish to pre-judge Everyone beautiful Lovely gorgeous Redeemed Forgiven And love them

I set out on a voyage, to unfold, unearth the myriad layers of the secrets that creation hides behind each speck, each face. My heart went into raptures at the prodigious loveliness of what I saw! Pretty, smiling faces, eyes

Drifting by my window on a cold dark winters eve, no sound, nor chasing echo, no path to follow or deceive. A silent spectre; a mask of scorn, a hazy memory, from life ’twas torn. Jealously wanting what now it

Even on a normal sunny day My mind appears gloomy I have everything going smooth But I feel something I am missing For no reason my mood is cloudy I aspire for things which others have and forget those things

I want to write But can’t get right words I want to express a lot But can’t find correct expression I have a lot of feelings inside me But no one to express for I want to fly high I

Are you educated? Have you an injured heart? Have you a purified brain? Do you believe in truth? Are you alone? Do you seek problematic truth, solvable truth, real magic? Are you a secular person? Do you believe in democracy?

Lucky little seed, I pick you. To bury in dirt and chicken poo. I cant wait to watch you grow. Underneath the light bulb glow. Little sapling poking out, Standing up so strong and stout. I’m so very proud of

What if love was free What if the sky were the sea Would that be better for you or me What if there was no doubt What if we understood what life was all about Would we all laugh and

World seemed so calm before we met A burned soul left ashes of regret All day I have searched deep inside A glint in shadow seemed to hide This night had the wildest experience And your tantalize was more intense

The question you have been asking is right in front of your face The question you have been asking is not the right one you should be asking in this place The question you are so sure of is perpetually

Dear You, It’s been a long time since we spoke, I’m tallying the days since you’ve gone, Leaving me alone in this one-windowed skyscraper. The pages are blank. The ink has dried. So here I am, thinking out loud, Hoping

We walked, twinkle-toed, through the night’s hush A ‘Sherlock Holmes’ deerstalker capping my skull And the red Che-star on your beret (left of centre); Hand in hand Finger looped to finger Palms sweating, Lips twinging from a freshly chiselled kiss

What dwells within the deepest, most utter, most core of one who laughs yet longs for truth and to be true to oneself with another human being…not hiding. But, it is being mentally, emotionally and spiritually naked. It’s frightening, perhaps

Did you not hear the fireworks last night when you kissed me? could you not taste the explosion? oh where was your spark? was it me? Did my teeth not dig deep enough into your collar bones? Did my hands

Within the imagination I am content to live This is my stay I see how plenty, how ever-expanding it is The ‘All’ a rich array Of ever-rotating colors with which to paint And never fade away This is my stay

Sometimes I think about everything and in my wonder all my thoughts they do shudder a neurological network gone asunder a beautifully terrible bundle of fibers my Mind carefully stutters an enemy larger than life, yet a friend which could

Holi Special… A special day, a special week, Neither I say nor do they weep, A period of celebration, a feeling of getting affection, Making good relations, in form of Benediction, Colours make pleasure in life, without it we can’t

I search you, hear and there, In all corners at all spheres! I speak to you and I swear, But you can’t hear! In your wide eyes, my presence I search, In my sweet dreams your friendship I urge! In