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

Leave something for me to imagine. A skeleton in a pond leaps to the moon. In an air bubble lies the history of a suspended name, wasted away on water. A war is declared on the family of words, not

Low and behold those creatures cried and begged while the butcher cut their heads then he sells them part by part to her delicatessen Kidney pie, liver fry, sizzling heart and brain rated for their fat Hanging in freezer rooms

I tried yeah,I tried, I made you need me, what a difference today, you get honesty. You liked it and showered in thoughts that could be, deep down I knew it would never be me. Black widow you may say,

My better half in life alias wife lay tired & fatigued while toiling at the house chores for days & months I could see her charm gradually dwindling her anger terribly rising by leaps & bounds I got worried and

Male, a heaven in natural ways A blossom in to my heart of agony Cheer up me with power … On the lovely beds of Indian ocean. The music of heaven Playing in the odds Enrich me a lot A

You gave it when you were poor. Today I went to unwrap the gift. The soul! Ripping out from the body to deconstruct my vernacular pain. Pulling off the toenails to extract a promise. Feet first; the birth of a

Yippeeee it’s time to go for a walk, I was beginning to think my person forgot, It seems like a week since she last took me out, I hope she will let me run all about. Ooooh I might see

Who am I? Sometimes I wonder… I am a disciple…stumbling along an old, rocky path An angel?  No…just a woman… Straining just to touch the hem of His garment Longing to be closer, ever closer to Him I am a

We are the visible manifestation of a much deeper design. Like the tip of an iceberg most of what we are is out of view. Science tells us that only four percent of what makes up the Universe is visible

If I’m leaving tomorrow For a journey of epic proportions, If uncertainty lies over my existence Would you say what I wanted to hear… And make it easier for me to go, Or would you just stand there, Mourn over

Why, Why are you like this Stop being so mean Do you really want your face to meet my fist You know, You know I’m suffering How can you just keep being so terrible Just stop buffering I get the

It is not on you, dear poet, but on your Nation, and its rulers, spread all over Their body, mind and soul; irreparable, Their cancerous thoughts and deeds; ‘The red salute’, they offer to all, a mean, Cheap and cruel

Never know how the mood behaves For a moment it is in Ecstasy In moments it may turn out to be Agony One’s response to the situation has direct bearing on mood A sad news when taken in shock creates

Standing on the road, that diverges at the end One way leads to green glory, another to the dark lane The lane never travelled, is the one I wish for As Darkness chased me, but I followed a star Standing

I’ll gladly share Dreamland with you always, Not to reserve one bit for others’ use, But make its days smolder and nights ablaze, And keep each of us as love’s recluse; We’ll shut the storm from blowing through each spring,

Achieving this dream Of words That consist of destroying My inner storm And Opening old wounds The lingering of pain As if salt was just poured Achieving this dream Would mean saying my goodbye’s To the ones I loved the

One by one leaves had gone, several and many times. Lone tree, standing naked in dry wind was ready to walk. In inward aloneness to know the roots. You look straight into the eyes of primeval suffering. Under a cramped

You are peeling me off like a crab. Time has sunk very low. For the hungry kids who was growing crab apples? Creating art, arriving between the pubes. A microfossil roosting within me. I could live without oxygen. Incandescent, the