Write Ottava Rima Poems

Each pulse is unique, so of this one we write,
tip of our nose, entwined with third eye and crown,
a vibrant throb of bliss magnetism so...

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Steadfast, he, as fortress guarded
In his ivory tower slept 
Fearing naught, though faith-departed
Knowing not his lover wept.
Cowardice, thought long-discarded
Secretly in silence crept
Corroded, as if silver,...

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Sitting alone in silence, at midnight hour 
I write thoughts in the bright of a candles glow 
Unbeknownst what the future holds, I cower
Cringing, shrinking...

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'The Thundering Silence'


The coming summer rain with drops of pain
Our lamenting love slowly slips away
My soul is slain with a thunderous vein
My heart left broken...

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It’s over and the drugs are wearing off
As suffering returns, we cease to scoff 
At those post-ops who bitterly complain
Of “agony” or “unbearable pain”
And for...

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Ottava Rima was made to recite
all ten commandments at the next high mass.
In her very private room she did write
them again and again just like...

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Nice girl Ottava Rima knew her place
but in her very private room did write
a limerick which in this special case
was bluer than the dark mask...

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A lady named Ottava Rima
who hailed from Peruvian Lima
would write down her verse
then bellow and curse
All the structure just made her Scream-a!


2nd Place

Limerick Contest

Sponsor: ...

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As setting sun and last refrain of song.
my life but one melodious lost note.
In retrospect, the journey not so long,
those distant things now seem much...

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The Big Bang Theory and others devised.
Professors armed with latest editions.
Soon, teach as facts; oh, faith of youth revised.
Inspired, common suppositions.
Biblical creation too soon capsized.
Unaware,...

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The warming glow that brings my heart abloom,
A fireplace with silent flickering
My passions flowing in a low-lit room,
Oh, take my pen and write, muse whispering.
Soft,...

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A poet’s warm and spicy place to meet,
The soup will stir emotions bright and rare.
There, friends will write their best poetic feat.
And inspirations season thoughts...

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Read me verses
vibrant with life,
not sad epitaphs;
paint me my portrait
with a lustrous light...
be a Cavaraggio, or Rembrandt,
and my replicas sell in the market
for a price...

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