Ovi Poetry Challenge 84: OPEN is your inspiration.

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.

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

8 thoughts on “Ovi Poetry Challenge 84: OPEN is your inspiration.

  1. The prompt today was “open.” Also, It has been suggested, in a few quarters, that I might be coming across as negative. That was a stinging rebuke. So today, I have tried to be less negative, if indeed I have been. I have tried to incorporate the wisdom of the fun poet Robert Frost who said,”A poem begins with a lump in the throat.” I don’t think he meant coal…but I’m not sure. So, here is today’s offering.

    An Open Mind
    One wants to keep an open mind,
    for a closed one, well, one might find,
    the unsighted leading the blind,
    an awkward political state.

    Tis a sticky wicket, I think,
    an undefended kitchen sink
    of thought, leaving one on the brink,
    stuck on the cliff of compliance.

    “Hold your horses,” I hear you say.
    “Your Metaphors have gone astray.
    Your exposed brain has lost its way.
    What the heck are you on about?”

    You’ve caught me: a poet’s trap,
    trying to be an upbeat chap,
    offering joy, positive pap –
    clearly I need reprogramming

    In this, the time of Old King Trump,
    Canucks’ and all are up a stump.
    Frost said it well, your throat’s a lump –
    Indeed, that’s where this poem starts.

    http://www.engleson.ca

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.