Day 10: Sedoka – Katauta

Hello!

A sedoka is another ancient Japanese poem of three lines with nineteen syllables in total (5-7-7). It is mostly written in pairs to form a Katauta with a total of six lines divided into two sets. It has a total of thirty-eight syllables (19+19). Katauta are also called love poems and deal mostly with emotions. The presentation is such that the two sedokas act like a dialogue between each lover and form a conversation. They can contradict each other or form a question and answer together. 

PC: Pixabay

Format: 5-7-7 syllables

Rhyme: Not mandatory

My Poem

Scarlet like my blood

Each petal chanting your name

A small token of my love

 

White and cold like snow

Pure but may not be for you

Freezing blood, killing the rose

 

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon. That's the end of the challenge. 

Day 9: Tanka

Hi,

A tanka is a Japanese poetry format that seems like an extension of a Haiku. It consists of five lines and has thirty-one syllables in total. The first three lines are called kami-no-ku, while the last two lines are shimo-no-ku. In a traditional tanka, the first part presents the initial image and the second part responds to the image.

PC: Pixabay

Format: 5-7-5-7-7 syllables

Rhyme: Not mandatory

My Poem

Pollen all over

A fuzzy bee sips nectar

Flower to flower

Black and yellow against white

Pollinator saves the earth

 

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon.

Day 8: Couplet

Hi

A couplet is a two-line (stanza of a) poem with an AA rhyme scheme. Both lines end with the same rhyme and have the same meter. However, the meter is not mandatory for modern couplets while the rhythm is important. Couplets are used at the end of poems (like Sonnets) or presented in a series to form a standalone poem.

PC: Pixabay

Format: 2-line stanzas

Rhyme: AA rhyme scheme

My Poem

Again and again, the blue waves dash

Hitting the rocky cliffs with a loud splash

 

Blending with the stone in a flash

The frothy water fears no backlash

 

Stay away, don’t do anything rash

Humans cannot survive nature’s clash

 

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon.

Day 7: Hay(na)ku

Hello,

A haynaku is a modern poetry form created by Eileen R. Tabios. It is a tercet (three-line poem) with a total of six words. It is also called a simplified version of Haiku and hence written as hay(na)ku. The first line has one word, the second line has two, and the third line has three words. Though a single haynaku is a poem, a chain is used to present an idea or tell a story in a disjointed narrative style.

PC: Pixabay

Format: 1-2-3 words

Rhyme: Not mandatory

My Poem

White

On white

With blue gemstones

 

Flurry

Fussy, feisty

The feline queen

 

Stalking

Poor prey

Hide in snow

 

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon.

Day 6: Limerick

Hi,

A limerick is a humorous poem with five lines and a rhyme scheme of AABBA. The poems are usually silly, funny, quirky, bawdy, and rude. In a traditional limerick, the first, second, and fifth lines are longer and contain seven to ten syllables while the third and fourth are shorter and have five to seven syllables. In modern versions, the syllable count is more flexible, though the line sizes are maintained.

PC: Pixabay

Format: Five lines (1, 2, and 5 longer than 3 and 4)

Rhyme: AABBA

 My Poem

The missus in green and red had it enough of the mister

Grabbing a glass and two bottles she poses like a twister

Margarita, gin, tequila, and bloody mary

Do yourself a favor, and don’t you marry

Oh, forget the wastrel mister; it is time for a party, sister!

 

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon.

Day 5: Acrostic

Hello! 

An acrostic (uh-krahss-tik) poem is where the letters of a word or phrase are used as the first letters for each line in the poem. It is a popular style not only in poems but also in puzzles and prose. The poem can be of any length and deal with any topic/ theme. Those who want to experiment can write different styles of acrostic poems using the last letters of the words, placing each letter in the middle of the lines, etc.

PC: Pixabay

Format: One letter/ alphabet at the beginning of the line that together for a word/ phrase vertically

Rhyme: Not mandatory

 My Poem

Tender sapling unfurls from a cracked nut

Rising above the earth, aiming to touch the sky

Embarking on a journey spanning years

Enchanting, when grouped to form a forest  

 

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon.

Day 4: Lune

Hi, 

A lune is a shorter variant of Haiku created by Robert Kelly. It has three lines and thirteen syllables (5-3-5). Another version of the lune poem was created by Jack Collom with three lines and eleven syllables (3-5-3). Both forms are similar to Haiku and can be used to create a standalone poem or a chain for any topic.

PC: Pixabay

Kelly Version

Format: 5-3-5 syllables

Rhyme: Not mandatory

My Poem

Little lady sits

An empress

Ruling the forest

 

Collom Version

Format: 3-5-3 syllables

Rhyme: Not mandatory

My Poem

Dainty doll

Red and black; tiny

Ladybug

 

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon.

Day 3: Hauki Poem

A Haiku is a Japanese poetry format with three lines and seventeen syllables. Each line has a specific syllable count (5-7-5). It is one of the oldest poetry forms (from the 17th century) and is traditionally written about seasons, time, landscape, etc. However, modern Haiku can be about anything you want. A series of Haiku poems can be written to form a Haiku chain that discusses a series of ideas or the same topic. 

PC: Pixabay

Format: 5-7-5 syllables

Rhyme: Not mandatory

 

My Poem

Green, yellow, red, brown

Sacred journey of a leaf

From spring to autumn

 

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon.

Day 2: Charita Poem

Hello! 

A charita (Chair-rita) is a six-line poem with no title. It is divided into three stanzas with one, two, and three lines each. The poetry form was created by ai li in 1997. It is a Malay word for story or tale. A charita poem tells a short tale in a simple format using a handful of words and six lines. It can be a standalone or presented as a series. The form can be inverted (3-2-1) as well. When a charita and an inverted charita are used together in a poem, the result is an hourglass or a diamond (rhobus).

PC: Pixabay

Format: 1-2-3 lines

Rhyme: Not mandatory

My Poem

Aligned and bound together, the round baskets float

Piled with sticks, nets, and bait to lure fish big and small

Hiding in the sparkling blue waters glistening like lapis lazuli

Men and women, young and old turn into statues

Hope flickering the hearts and lips praying for a tug on the string

All they need is a good catch today and every day to feed their bellies

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon.

Day 1: Cinquain Poem

Hello!

A cinquain (sin-cane) is a short poetry form with five lines. Each line has a specific syllable count. Created by an American poet, Adelaide Crapsey, the poem tends to look like a pot – narrow at the top and bottom and wide in the middle. It can be on any topic, theme, object, action, etc.  

PC: Pixabay

Format: 2-4-6-8-2 syllables

Rhyme: Not mandatory

My Poem

Lightning

An orange sky

A warning – thunderstorm

Will you heed or call it silly?

Ravage

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon.

The Day Where Past and Present Coexist!

Hello! 

So, I promised my school friends at our recent reunion that I would write a poem about it. This is dedicated to them! 

Twenty! The word weighs heavy and poignant 

Making us wonder if time flew by or crawled past 

From the days of uniforms, hangouts, and annoying fights 

To grow up into adults with stressful lives 

 

A day to meet, to become a child again 

A trip into the past, one-way time travel 

But with adult responsibilities attached to the hip 

Rose-tinted glasses which become olive branches 

 

So full of laughter, hugs, cheers, and boos 

Of course, a dash of tears, a touch of nostalgia 

Brimming over the edges, cascading like waterfalls 

Or the burst of showers, a fitting finale to a day well spent 

 

Changes everywhere, loss and gains 

Highs and lows, rock bottoms and mountain tops 

All left outside the little bubble that grew bigger

Embraced each of us, managing not to burst 

 

Good things come to an end, but do they have to? 

The answers are maybes and if nots- vague and wistful 

And so it stays, dormant for now but nurturing with hope

Until the adults become kids again, in another school reunion 

***

 

Purple Faerie Homes - Day 10

Image by Andreas from Pixabay

They're somewhere in the vast forest 

Lay a broken branch 

Taken over my moss and grass 

Soft, squishy, and tickling 

It conquers the dead branch 

Keeping it alive through its presence 

Weeks pass, and so do the sun, moon, and rain 

A touch of magic and there they grow 

Dainty little umbrellas with wobbly legs 

Purple-tinted tops invisible to most 

A haven for those from the other world 

Ready to welcome the winged beings to their homes

***

Brief Backstory: What better than faeries, mushroom rings, and the color purple to sign off a writing event? The title is also a nod to my latest venture, a Tarot Reading account on Instagram - The Purple Faerie. 

***

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023. Thank you for joining me in the challenge. It was a fun event. 

The Graveyard House - Day 9

Image by Sandy Flowers from Pixabay

 Abandoned decades ago by living beings

The creaky structure was home to the un-living

The ones that rose from the graves around it

 

Resting on the roofs, window sills, and bare branches

Bats, owls, and ravens flew by to bring fresh news

 

Nightmares or peace, the house gave what they craved

***

Brief Backstory: As a horror writer, it's mandatory to have at least one horror poem when I do a marathon. The poem is in inverted Cherita form (lines 3-2-1 per stanza). 

***

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023.

Protected in the Wild - Day 7

 

Image by Sasin Tipchai from Pixabay 

Deep inside the forest

Where even light treads with care  

Are two young boys, carefree and happy

Away from the worries of the vast world

 

Friends, brothers, and partners in silly crimes

They laugh, giggle, and play with abandon

Until mud streaks cover their bodies

Making it impossible to see who is who

 

The little brains spark with an idea

The sounds of the rushing brook

The chill of the cool, clean water

An answer to their biggest trouble yet

 

 Wash, scrub, and pour – the bath begins

As nature laughs in delight

Protecting the innocent smiles

At least until they stay in her care 

***

Brief Backstory: Kids, forests, and nature bring such positivity and innocence. One look at the picture, and I knew I had to use it for my poem. 

***

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023.

Where to, My Foggy Friend? - Day 6

Image by Thanks for your recognition • Donations ♡ welcome from Pixabay

 The muddy path greets me with the usual silence

The dew drops on the green grass wink in mischief

The weathered barks of ancient trees provide support

But it is the whitish fog that beckons me today

 

Moody as ever and brooding as always

I ignore the lure and stand in my spot

One step off could take me down the slope

Over the broken branches and into the bottomless valley

 

Yet, it persists, inching closer and closer

Releasing a chilly breath onto my face and arms

I suppress the shiver snaking up my spine

Feigning nonchalance even as I feel the pull

 

Sensing my interest, it draws closer

Forming a barrier between me and the forest

But, in reality, marking me as one of its own

Easing the stress from my heart and soul

 

Heaving a breathless sigh with my eyes closed

I smile and take a step, trusting my new friend

Where to, I ask, ready for an adventure

Following the path into a world within the world

***

Brief Backstory: Forests, muddy paths, and misty hours are a perfect combination for musings. 

***

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023.

Little Brigit - Day 5

Image by ApplesPC from Pixabay

Bright as the sun, she brings spring blooms to blow away the snow 

Renewing warmth, she nudges seedlings to sprout and break free 

Illuminating the world, she turns gloomy cold nights into bonfire moments 

Glowing in glory, she dances across the pagan lands to scatter blessings of abundance 

Impish mischief sparkles as fire flickers on her fingertips to keep the hearths hot 

Thankful is mankind, gobbling the gifts she bestows year upon year for eternity 

***

Brief Backstory: Brigit is a Celtic Goddess of Healers, Smiths, Childbirth, Poets, Inspiration, Fire and Hearth, and a Patron of Warfare. The poem is in acrostic form.

***

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023. 

Eye See I - Day 4

Image by Nils from Pixabay

I see

Liquid amber

Glowing in the night’s dark

Intent on the prey, do not blink

Eye see  

***

Brief Backstory:  Some poems write themselves. This is one of those. It is in Cinquain form with 2-4-6-8-2 syllables. 

***

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023. 

Silvery Threads of Nature - Day 3

Image by Keli Black from Pixabay

Heavy and full, the dark clouds come together 

Merging with one another, they grow to cover the sky 

No hint of blue remains visible to the naked eye 

As nature prepares to flaunt her talents 

Small and big, bushy and pointed, the trees stand below 

Huddled together in groups, connected through their roots 

Entwined with grass, shrubs, plants, and mini mushrooms 

They settle to enjoy the show and convey their pleasure 

A faraway thunder is the only announcement 

As slivery threads of light streak downward 

The trees quiver in delight, though some wince in pain 

It’s the stitch of nature, a temporary quilt of light and dark 

White tendrils glare and blink out of sight 

Seen and unseen before one even takes a breath 

Sharing power, connecting the elements 

Lightning strikes until the earth regains her lost strength

***

Brief Backstory: Clouds, lightning, and thunderstorms are other favorites of mine, so they had to be in a poem. There's something so beautiful about watching a lightning strike! 

***

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023. 

Ancient Roots - Day 2

Image by allPhoto Bangkok from Pixabay

Darkened walls, broken doors, and trampled floors 

Older than you, me, and anyone alive

Half-hidden and protected by overgrowth

Stone and roots, nature’s children living together

Carvings so intricate that no machine can replicate

Faint echoes of ancient prayers humming with power

 

Temple ruins, left forgotten and ignored

By the civilized descendants of heathen ancestors

Temple ruins converted into tourist spots with flashy guides

Fabricated stories sold for dollars and pounds

Temple ruins desecrated by lovers and reformers

Wisdom on walls wiped out by ugly graffiti

 

The past, no longer present, yet with roots

Too deep to uproot and erase without a trace

Roots that grow back; refuse to surrender despite the abuse

Providing a gateway into the past, now and forever

A road not many want to take, not many dare follow

Yet the only one leading to the center of the universe

 

***

Brief Backstory: I love ancient temples and how they have been powerhouses of spiritual abundance over centuries. They are architectural marvels, built for decades with precision even modern-day tools don't achieve. There's much to learn if we stop considering ourselves superior.  

***

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023. 

The Silent Witness - Day 1

Hello readers! 

I'm taking part in the half-marathon organized by BlogChatter. As usual, I'll be posting a poem a day for ten days. Hope you enjoy them. The topics are varied yet similar. :) 

Image by Sunrise Pohtam from Pixabay

Come rain or sun, thunderstorm or whirlpool

There it stood, tall and proud yet silent

A witness to sinking ships, teary goodbyes

A witness to new love, a salty taste of freedom

 

Seasons came and went, ships sailed and left

Keepers cared and passed, generation after generation

The stories it could tell if only you dared to ask

Each fresh as it occurred, traveling back in time

 

Faded walls painted decades ago

Rusty rails and cracked windows

But rocky foundations that survive for eons

The centuries-old lighthouse, the guardian of stories 

***

Brief Backstory: I love lighthouses and always try to use them in my poems. They remind me of ancient power, standing for generations to protect endless future generations. What better than a symbol of hope, guidance, protection, and perseverance to begin the event. 

***

This post is a part of the Blogchatter Half Marathon 2023.