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

Some said she was very proud of her beauty but some say serving Goddess Athena was her duty some said she compared herself with goddesses some said she was a simple priestess according to some she was desired by Zeus

The oil came deep, from underneath. the earth could bleed, her blood was black. But men knew not___ they pierced her skin. It all seemed fair, but deep within. She cried aloud, and gasped for air. They took her oil,

In a cool blanket of water floating, the expansive green leaf gliding, on a lake serene and shimmering, caressed by the breeze mesmerizing, with tranquility So alluring. A symbol of vastness, a sign of openness, pink and white they float

It was the day after the ally Which was cold and breezy I Opened my eyes slowly In a blanket warm and fleecy saw a smile bright and bubbly With a big cup of coffee Woke up still feeling sleepy

365 days ago my life was forever changed. 12 quick months. 1 unbelievable year. He has a soul of fire and a mouth of destruction. He put me on a ride through hell and at the same time, a journey

Wisest of the wise always quote Poison for the poison is anecdote Hatred and contempt is to float From one boat to another boat At times a mote takes us- remote This is how humans promote Vices on the chest

The whiteness in a black-spotted dove flies away from my head, each time war wakes up; A voice falls down from a window staring into emptiness, which is jammed with fragileness and trivialities, and crashes on the cracked street. Rust

I urge you, pry the quiet crimson open under the dying embers of the blood orange sky. Ragged words expelled in a breathless arrhythmic pause, coating the ridges of our raw and urgent tongues. We must intertwine, lip upon lip,

There’s no one to talk to, Nobody understands, Nobody feels like you do, You need a helping hand. No matter how you feel, There’s always someone there, Someone to help you heal, Someone who really cares. You feel the world’s

I am a desert, I am filled with sands of time, The scorching sun kisses my bare bososm, The rains betray me, I cannot hold greenery in my arms. I am d desert, I am barren. As night descends, I

sensations sense the limited bound by the apertures that read time my conditioned mind interprets the words that come through in streams, as lines of information a matrix of data, through the windows of the sensual eyes, my faded account

Plain steps Grey concrete smooth polished to look Like marble But they are not; nothing in this courtroom is real I came here a Free Man Under licence and bonded high, but free all the same I chose to face

Beautiful eyes Imagine falling in love with someone you have never seen. Would you give your heart away to a mystery? What if you could fall head over heels, do you think you would try? Or would you run away

A mist fills my mind, The smoke of a dream As she walks and talks And gives me her hand. A dream that feels real, But we know better. A dream carries you off But you always come home. You

At the weekend she’ll go back again to walk barefoot on ferns and then through flickering green mosaics where sunlight never burns she’ll wander wisp tossed shadowed lanes of timeless peace rimmed hours where emerald rain drops sprinkle from sky

Hatred as drizzle, Chisels at human souls. Contrives a crevice to separate them, Deceives and ensnares its surroundings. Fear and heartache are its weapons, Vindictiveness the float it parades on. Discouragement its cathartic instruction, Defeating the strongest of men. Wears

I did not will them dreams of crystals a stupid calendar of flight from insomniac past. Do not want to return to future, hub of my clouds. History had been writhing and screaming. Present cannot redeem my woes. I ask

There’s Jimmy Choo, Announcing one’s arrival as if on a cue. Then there’s Miu Miu, With chic and classy hues. Jean Paul Gaultier, A shiney Cartier, Just the things to revere! Burberry, In colors of sherry, Classic, oh-so very! Gorgeous