About This Author
Absolute beginner, Reader, Reviewer, ESL writer, Poet, Blogger, Novelist, Published author, Psychology degree, Dog lover. Quill finalist
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In honest simple verse
OVI: an ancient Indian form of narrative poetry consisting of four-line stanzas with the first three lines rhyming and having eight syllables each. The fourth line does not rhyme and contains less than eight syllables.
Dnyaneshwaar (1275-1296) was the first to use ovi in literature. (Illustration)
September 8, 2024 at 7:22am September 8, 2024 at 7:22am
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Now here the party almost end
Music dies, dishes dirty, lend
a hand to clean properly, tend
to wave goodbye
Balloons, confetti on the ground
Glasses full of champagne, to mount
to nothing, we are so drunk round
the clock
24 years, good was it not?
we wrote, were busy with fun, but
the film director has said "Cut
- let's take a last selfie"
We all go home, this cannot last
good activities dry up fast
we have to leave quickly, we must
take it to its end
Master, Misses, the story went
on and on, we'd celebrate, bent
the rules a little bit and lent
an ear to you all
So, we go, we are back next year
Enjoyed prizes, MBs, hear-hear
We kiss goodbye and shed a tear
Laugh Good Day!
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August 31, 2024 at 12:50pm August 31, 2024 at 12:50pm
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A bar in Amsterdam, 1986. To Peter
could have, should have, did not
lost my mind years ago, you
were engraved in my soul, the two
of us a fairytale into
the darkness of a dream
those hours i met you, loved
the talk, the vibe, i shoved
us in the realm of toughed
up impossibilities
it all was beyond time and place
i never forgot you or your face
we met again, yes twice, the race
of improbabilities
those years apart never enclosed
what should have been if not to boost
the sweetest love, we could have toast
-ed eternity and back
LC:16
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October 12, 2023 at 9:10am October 12, 2023 at 9:10am
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Hamas attacked brutally
And Israel ferociously
Retaliated directly
Oh, all those deaths!
People are in stupified shock
Murder, mayhem, and blasts ad hoc
The Gaza Strip, its people are on lock:
No food, water, or power
Hostages are taken by terrorists
Two countries divided through mist
Of smoke, hatred, and cunning list
Of two years of preparation.
Jews and Palestinians go
In murderous embrace, the flow
Of escalation in a row
The world is looking.
2nd Place Round 104 "Poetic Traditions Poetry Contest
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Ninety-eight in the hospital
for six weeks, with pain - a little
bug on her heart valve, but it'll
be cured with a drip.
Most days she's in a jolly mood
smiling, eating, and drinking good
tele, reading get-well cards, food
for thought.
Her network visits round the clock
taking care of laundry, ad hoc
leaving behind, sometimes in shock
cause she forgets we were there.
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Ruby, pink gem, or bloody red
My July birthstone, we just met
Made its way from the shelf to bed
- he gave her to me
Lover all potent with a grin
Said “This is only the begin-
ning of a hot affair to win
you over.”
Note ▼ WRITE A POEM INSPIRED BY YOUR BIRTHSTONE.
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Some sightings upwards in the sky
Called UFOs, flying way up high
Are real or not? We have to sigh
Thinking of alien life
Grey with big eyes or green from Mars
Learning and watching from the stars
Or are they starting earthly wars
We have to wait and see
Note ▼CELEBRATIONS!
World UFO Day - dedicated to the existence of unidentified flying objects, encouraging you to open your mind, embrace a different perspective and explore the wonders of the UFO phenomenon.
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Row the boat, gently down the stream
Party all day, me and my team
Boozing, laughing, eating ice cream
Till dawn sets in
All I remember the boat shook
We all plunged into the cold brook
A passerby watched us and took
Us out of the water
Note ▼Some of the worst places to have a party: a row boat; an elevator or an overpass |
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This mouse is laughing hard as can
The thrilling pleasure, pure and when
He’s moving, shaking, pointing, then
I have to smile myself
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August 15, 2022 at 9:26am August 15, 2022 at 9:26am
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Imagine
A world without violence and pain
Where people interact not in vain
With love, understanding the brain
- Imagine
The heart, major power to use
Arms, to include all; introduce
Space and liberty reproduce
- Imagine
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August 13, 2022 at 10:27pm August 13, 2022 at 10:27pm
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Salman Rushdie, writer of tale
Got stabbed yesterday in assail
On stage, before he could prevail
- Freedom of speech attacked
A fatwa on his head was set
Now he lies in hospital bed
Maimed for life, luckily not dead
- Pray for recovery
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August 12, 2022 at 10:07am August 12, 2022 at 10:07am
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Weeping willow in summertime.
Hanging down, lush leaves green as lime.
This nature’s hideout is sublime.
Giving shelter.
Strong, long branches way up high,
Stringing down from the sky.
When my dog Sprout is passing by
He pees at them.
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August 10, 2022 at 5:53pm August 10, 2022 at 5:53pm
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Palm reading: marked lines in my hands
Are telling a tale, grasping trends
Life-long visuals make amends
With scattered broken paths
Love, destiny, travel, and stress
Right or left hand, they both possess
Influence, growth, outcome, or mess
As past and future maps
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August 9, 2022 at 12:21pm August 9, 2022 at 12:21pm
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Murderous Poet
It’s late at night, I am wond’ring
Rhyming, thinking, a bit pond’ring
- two flies buzzing, circling, blund’ring…
Wished them dead!
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August 9, 2022 at 12:18pm August 9, 2022 at 12:18pm
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Working in silence
Work in silence being a scribe
Means isolation avoiding the hype
Social media, and the vibe
- Just me and the screen
Words, sentences, and storylines
Poetry with or without rhymes
Hours of passion, in the mines
Of the lonely writer
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August 9, 2022 at 12:15pm August 9, 2022 at 12:15pm
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My uncle Frits
A younger brother of my mom
Frits, twenty-one - the bravest one
From Holland to New Guinee, won
A medal when he died
Nineteen sixty-one, end of war
He headed home, free to explore
His life with family and more
Stepped on a landmine
Great mourning of this loss back home
My pregnant mom felt all alone
My life began, it set the tone
- a difficult bond
Frits got attention he deserved
Years later a plaquette reserved
In an army meeting observed
By us all, the family
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August 9, 2022 at 12:09pm August 9, 2022 at 12:09pm
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My first Ovi
In the second wind of my life
Turning sixty-one, seem to thrive
long fortuitous way to drive
Without a destination
So, soulsearching and thinking hard
Where do I go from here, you bard
What is the purpose, goal, new start
How-to from now? |
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