As I mentioned last week, I’m a history guy, meaning being oblivious to our past and present has been an interest of mine, especially over the past decade or three. Being oblivious may sometimes be a good thing. It all depends on what who you are, what your life situation is, and what the obliviousness is about. For example, I don’t know if my neighbor is lactose intolerant… but I have my suspicions. Okay, so that’s a little trivial and easy.

Maybe as I’m writing this I’m rethinking things. Perhaps we do need to know everything that impacts our lives, from the smallest to the largest. But can we? Sometimes there are things going on behind the scenes in Washington that we don’t need to know. I don’t really want to know of the President is planning some rescue attempt of citizens at an embassy in another country. Does that impact my life? Yes, the reason for it being necessary is, but if I’ve paid attention the rest of the time then I am likely aware of the why. And it does impact me because of how those relations with that country affects how our country and economy and safety are affected. Lots of decisions we make each day depend on knowledge. Awareness.

Yep, that’s my mind at work.

 

OVI POETRY

Ovi is a syllabic/metre poetry form. In this case, Ovi is from India, originating in the Marathi language. The Ovi  has been in use in written form since the 13th Century, but the women’s ovee/ovi predates the literary form by at least the 12th Century.

The Ovi are in general, lyrical folk songs expressing love, social irony, and heroic events. They are written in the following scheme.

4 line stanzas, as few as one stanza and up to as many as you like.

8 syllables or less per line

Rhyming is AAAb. The second stanza would be CCCd. The third, EEEf. And so on. Meaning nothing in one stanza must rhyme with anything in the previous stanza. The fourth line does not rhyme.

Example:

Roly Poly by Judi Van Gorder

The big toothed tot with golden hair
picked up a bug on Sister’s dare,
it rolled into a ball right there
and won her springtime heart.

Notice the rhyming pattern is AAAb or
A
A
A
b

My Attempt

Blue flowers continue to grow,
with the shadow’s making them glow,
giving life to darkness and woe,
dying each year to yet return.