Literature Poems

life without literature, is like life without meaning, like a jellyfish with no sting, like a lion that can’t roar, like a frog that can’t leap, like a wolf without instinct, like a snake without venom, like a falcon without

I wish I lived in middle earth, With wizards and hobbits and elves. Just give me a sword and a quest to fulfil, Like the heroes in the books on my shelves. I wish I had a dragon to slay,

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Africa’s venerated literary icon with words of eloquence esoteric to the blind. Distinguished in letters for ages infinite. Unparalleled in intellect, and a gadfly of constructive dissenting views. Soyinka, You are indeed a priceless asset to the black race. The

There once was an imp whose appearance was vain, his behavior was foolish, even his speech and imposing mannerisms were maimed! From those eastern cannibalistic lands afar he and his kind had once been blessed, indentured to serve the superlative

10 ways to write a poem! No sentence in the glory of English language has hit me as hard as this one did. I started writing poetry when I was in class 7th. I still remember the day when this

A motley group had made an affiliation of sorts It sprouted and mushroomed in our back lane And there was born a poetry club with no name Passion it was for the verses written in Urdu That linked them beyond

The exuberant fire that burns within my soul, In that first embrace of a lover’s smile; Shall forever be held, in equality to the power of love. Her servant shall forever wish for her luminous, infallible, tongue. Which speaks of

Nature is wild and eagles and wolves will never be lovers. But certainly Poetry can overcome every obstacle and translates our dreams, desires, passions.. in images that evoke even a new, different Universe. It fulfills the very nature of Poetry

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

Her scent wafts alongside her and sinks into my heart; For I have become fixated, by a desire for her touch. She was glorious and overpowering, from the very start; I am hooked and addicted to her love; she is

The girl is an ultra-modern scholar, Belongs with an upper-middle class family. Looking very nice, smart, gets angry suddenly. She reads M.A in English at Presidency University. She is assimilating the ideas of Shakespeare, Shelley, Keats, Neruda, Byron… Fluently speaks

By mid month I won’t even tell them that this is is last month’s issue The election calendar has not changed since then Prioritize our distribution with a few hundred a couple hundred more to develop the readership on the

His stomach is full of pure rage, The heart is lacking What to do, When it all feels through? Should he chuck it all for a different slice of dissatisfaction, Or persevere , determining that circumstances will improve? Sometimes the

Where he fixed the features of his mental image what he thought and what tells vividly his visage He planned a journey of progress for present to start When his country would cover that with spirit of heart In future

The more I learn, the more I realize how little I know… which insightful, gutsy, entrancing, catchy apothegm attributed to Socrates by way of Plato subsequently self ranking myself amidst Phylum Chordata with the Dodo bird Class Aves (namely said

Poem Dedicated To My Father Late Moinuddin Hasan–An Ideal Teacher- BEFORE TEACHERS’ DAY Moinuddin was his name,eloquent, which means— One who is an aide to faith and for that weens He lost his father when only six months and mother,

Comprehensive to common minds yet impressive. Creative writing demands appreciating. His composition is his recognition. Unknown to this world his designation. Nor noted he’s deserted. Exiled deep in oceans of literature, Get him a defibrillator. Too less like him left,

When night will not speak and shoes will float on the water; legs of truth will not move. Latched to absence unreasons held the hands of time. I stopped believing in myself. The genome had come in a bottle. when

Late night in a loveless city 12 am and the lights shine in the sky like beacon for all to see they shine bright Drawing in the easily swayed Like a flame to a fly For those that run from

Let me bequeath my fond memories to you Before I depart for the vermilion horizon Beyond the deep blue blur where the birds return at dusk… Memories of lazy winter afternoons beneath clear blue skies Rummaging through curious branches of

Eyes do speak. It’s funny how they perceive the things around. The broken conversations heard by fully complexed ears. I believed that I’d be ok. The conclusions that eyes draw. Never making sense of the words heard. I believed it

Being Alive is to feel the breath…that cannot be felt after the death… Being Alive is to feel yourself beyond the senses…that capture your spirit in all the instances… Being Alive is to feel the real you…feeling the consciousness, pruning

I greet admirers of Chocolate on 13 September International Chocolate day with the following poem; Momin & Aliza Momin is the name of my niece’s son Two years of age with frolic and fun Aliza is the daughter of my

A complex ego: lips on a flame like Kama Sutra. Starless night to probe a moon going downhill. A needle in hay protects the wound of a kiss. Portrait was incomplete without pilot to fly a plane: ———————————————- A complex

The fanatics are but a handful Let them not hold myriads in a fistful Let them not desecrate our realms Let not their tentacles crush us The fanatics are but a handful Let us defeat them in their demented schemes

I try to take care of it all on my own, I pray that this will remain unknown, They have no idea the level of shame, When they have to take care all over again. There are some who make

A dinner A movie show A trip to the zoo None of these Are as fine as A day spent thinking about you I had a heart and that is true But now it’s gone from me to u When

When the bloodshed starts at the doorstep of solemn silence, give me a lone engagement with the invisible to unchain the split heart. I will take away the pain from home and come back in failing light when a star

Your voice is the perfect song to listen to on a road trip. To view all the things that remind me of you. Miles away from the stress of work. Your voice, the open road. Someone I can love, no

She wasn’t taller than her doll-house. She was still writing to Santa Claus. Dark curly hair and wide open eyes she piously kneeled piercing the skies. She smiled to Heaven and silently said: ‘With this heart I Thee wed! ‘.

Vast emptiness preceded him, when he stood inside a glass on road. Sun did not contradict him, light had entered back in stars. Failed fingers knocked out the magnet. There was no reason. Pain in neck neglected for long now becomes time,

Like an angel out of the sky you came Clearing up all the clouds, the Sadness and the rain So pure and healing was the love you bring I knew inside… (it felt so right) For me I’ve struggled all

As I lay in my bed I turn off the light Turn to my sweetheart To kiss him goodnight.. But the space is empty He’s no longer there I call out his name And cry with despair. Why did you

How soon can you stop walking in my dreams, Though you lavish me there with everything, In dreams that make real what only seems, Awake a pauper, but in sleep a king With kingdom in the clouds that truly boasts

I close my eyes, I see a face, Time has passed at a splendid pace, It was a scorching sunny day, With rains of happiness on the way, A day to remember, a day to dare, I was to promise

Entombed beneath the cold cold ground Lie remains of one who grisly drowned Flesh and bone and stench of bile Is this really his eternal domicile? Legend has it they come back To rule the night for they lack The

You say you are at war You say you are battle worn You say you have gone all dark All weary and filled with scorn You say she took your life away You say you are left with nothing at

Watch your beautiful smile, You shine so bright, Mama calls you her pride, Teachers called you a star! You are more than rubies and pearls., You are bubbly like a glass of Cristal, Yet you move so dull as if

Infantile air so clear and White gathers the dust of time gliding over paddy, inspiration, fish hooks, and moons Painting lullabies for lovers; Time gets younger, memories merge from bays to dried eyes as Hearts get heavier, healers hail the

With our fingers entwined in deep embrace We stare out, away to some different space The passion unspent is heightened here, But then there is this guilt with a tinge of fear We barely meet eyes, We rarely speak, But

As I approach the fourth quarter of my life and I look back at the trees that I have Planted from seed, and watched as they grew, each new branch that formed I gave Thanks For every branch and bough.