An ovillejo is an old Spanish poem that's a bit like a fun riddle! Miguel de Cervantes, a famous writer, popularised this form around 1547-1616. The guidelines: A 10-line poem A 4-stanza poem. The first three stanzas are a rhyming couplet. The first line of each...
Poetry Styles
Rants!!!
Sticky I feel, sometimes smelly too, Not because I am fresh and brand new, Oil, paint, food and what not, Between fights I get caught, My buttons, sigh!! What all they go through!!!! Photo by Piotr Cichosz on Unsplash
Echoverse
Echo verse is a poetic form that emphasises repetition within the structure of the poem. It deliberately repeats certain words, phrases, or sounds at specific intervals throughout the poem, creating a rhythmic and musical effect. In “Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allan Poe,...
Welcoming Winters
Air, chill, yet pleasant, Misty curtains envelop, Welcoming winters.
Conversation from Within
Eager I was to see the world, Which was rudely snatched away, Even before I could sway. My existence just whirled. Why weren't my arms unfurled? Answer me my mother, why did you betray? Why couldn't I just stay, With you, in your cozy abode, just curled? What...
The Night
Darkness shrouds the vast sky as the clouds huddle up, Silence prevails as the wonderful night sets in. A lone cricket buzzing, Or the bullfrog croaking, Through the eerie silence, sends shivers down the spine. The lake... quiet, frozen With an one off...
Completeness
Complete I feel with you, my dear, You are my brightest hue, my dear. Your presence, the best catalyst I wish everyone knew, my dear. Your breath, like waft of petrichor, Is always fresh, like new, my dear. In your hug so cosy and warm, I find...
My Own… Ceased to Exist
Unsure, how safe is the land below, We are just asked to wander and go. The coldness of the land makes us slow Despite the kindness its people show And the shelter care they give us though When would we go back, I wanna know To my own... or that's what I thought so,...
Unfulfilled Dream
Will it remain an unfulfilled dream? As just impossible it does seem, to realize and happily scream, "I am a journalist of esteem". I wonder , did life really scheme against my wishes... were they supreme? Do I get a small chance to redeem my life and my dream, to...








