Hola! This poem is part of my Ars Poetica – BlogchatterA2Z 2025 series, where I explore the art of poetry through 26 stanzas, each beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. Every day, a new stanza unfolds, building upon the previous ones intuitively and organically. If you’re just joining in, feel free to read from the beginning or simply dive into today’s reflection on poetry.

Stanza 15 of the Ars Poetica—Own Voice or Offer It Up?

One part of me wants to slide my name, bold,
Between the verses—
Like Kabir in his dohas,
Like Tulsidas in his Hanuman Chalisa.
But then I wonder—
Am I even close to them?
Dare I claim
What feels like a gift from elsewhere?
Perhaps I should sign it in His name.
But wait—
If these words are born of my wounds,
If the scars inked the lines,
Don’t I have the right
To call it mine?

(to be continued...)

“I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z“.

Edit: Happy to share that this post has been recognised as “Top Blog at Blogchatter”. Thank you for your love!

Hola! This poem is part of my Ars Poetica – BlogchatterA2Z 2025 series, where I explore the art of poetry through 26 stanzas, each beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. Every day, a new stanza unfolds, building upon the previous ones intuitively and organically. If you’re just joining in, feel free to read from the beginning or simply dive into today’s reflection on poetry.

Stanza 14 of the Ars Poetica—New Trends or Old Formats?

New trends dazzle, old formats endure—
 When trendsetters clash with the classics,
 What do I choose?
 Between blackout poems and ballads,
 Insta-verse and structured sonnets,
 Erasures or eternal odes—
 What do I choose?
 Must I bend to what's viral,
 Or bow to what’s timeless?
 The page pulls one way, the screen another—
 And I, the poet,
 Stand in between,
 Pen poised at the edge of both worlds.

(to be continued...)

“I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z“.

Hola! This poem is part of my Ars Poetica – BlogchatterA2Z 2025 series, where I explore the art of poetry through 26 stanzas, each beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. Every day, a new stanza unfolds, building upon the previous ones intuitively and organically. If you’re just joining in, feel free to read from the beginning or simply dive into today’s reflection on poetry.

Stanza 13 of the Ars Poetica—Marry the Metaphor

Marry the metaphor
When words abandon you,
When emotion arrives unnamed—
A tremor in the chest, a breath you can’t quite place,
When the world overwhelms and your tongue falls silent,
Let metaphor be your vow.
Say:
Poetry is the bride’s trembling wait for the first touch,
The groom’s hesitant reach in a room too quiet.
It is not what is said,
But what the image dares to hold.
So when you're lost for words—
Marry the metaphor.


(to be continued...)

“I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z“.

Hola! This poem is part of my Ars Poetica – BlogchatterA2Z 2025 series, where I explore the art of poetry through 26 stanzas, each beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. Every day, a new stanza unfolds, building upon the previous ones intuitively and organically. If you’re just joining in, feel free to read from the beginning or simply dive into today’s reflection on poetry.

Stanza 12 of the Ars Poetica—Let the Line Breathe

Let a line break the monotony
Of a monologue.
Let it breathe life into white space,
To let your imagination rest there—
Or renovate that pause into a masterpiece
With bricks of your wildest fantasies.

Each gap is not a void but an invitation;
A deliberate silence that speaks louder than sound.
It’s where the poem exhales,
Where thought catches its breath.
Let those empty spaces be your home—
A place where meaning lingers after the words are gone.


(to be continued...)

“I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z“.

Hola! This poem is part of my Ars Poetica – BlogchatterA2Z 2025 series, where I explore the art of poetry through 26 stanzas, each beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. Every day, a new stanza unfolds, building upon the previous ones intuitively and organically. If you’re just joining in, feel free to read from the beginning or simply dive into today’s reflection on poetry.

Stanza 11 of the Ars Poetica—Kaleidoscope of Meanings

Kneel before a word, turn it thrice, 
and watch its meanings shift. 
Language is never static; 
it bends, refracts, 
takes on new colours in different hands. 
A poem is not one thing—it is infinite, 
a prism catching light from every angle. 
What I write today may not be what you read tomorrow. 
That is its magic.

(to be continued...)

“I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z“.

Hola! This poem is part of my Ars Poetica – BlogchatterA2Z 2025 series, where I explore the art of poetry through 26 stanzas, each beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. Every day, a new stanza unfolds, building upon the previous ones intuitively and organically. If you’re just joining in, feel free to read from the beginning or simply dive into today’s reflection on poetry.

Stanza 10 of the Ars Poetica—Juxtaposition’s Jolt

Just when I thought she lay bare,
Her secrets slither beneath her scars.
Light leans into shadow—
She giggles and grieves in the same breath.
A lullaby laced with alarm bells,
She sings in peace and protest.
Poetry—
She is the jolt of juxtaposition,
Startling, shifting,
Forcing the mind to twist and turn,
To see what was always there—
But never truly noticed.

(to be continued...)

“I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z“.

Hola! This poem is part of my Ars Poetica – BlogchatterA2Z 2025 series, where I explore the art of poetry through 26 stanzas, each beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. Every day, a new stanza unfolds, building upon the previous ones intuitively and organically. If you’re just joining in, feel free to read from the beginning or simply dive into today’s reflection on poetry.

Stanza 9 of the Ars Poetica—Imagery’s Immersion

Ink drips into vision—
 Fluffy clouds of cream over the morning cup of coffee,
 A song or solace? I don’t know, but
 That sip of comfort lifts me into a world
 Where the poem begins to find her face—
 A blushing Mars,
 Hiding her scars
 In the hush of light.
 She smells of burnt bread
 From a distant house.

Oh dear, poetry is a naked show—
 Out there, lying bare,
 Letting you into her world
 To taste the citrus on her tongue,
 To trace the rough edges of her craters,
 Carving her into a planet
 Distant,
 Yet personal enough
 To touch—
 To feel her shriveling scars,
 That make her real.
 Not to be read,
 But to be held close.


(to be continued...)

“I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z“.

Hola! This poem is part of my Ars Poetica – BlogchatterA2Z 2025 series, where I explore the art of poetry through 26 stanzas, each beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. Every day, a new stanza unfolds, building upon the previous ones intuitively and organically. If you’re just joining in, feel free to read from the beginning or simply dive into today’s reflection on poetry.

Stanza 8 of the Ars Poetica—Half-formed and Here

Hardened by haste, yet hauntingly whole,
She arrives—with a soft, uncertain cry,
Making me wonder if she ever meant to come at all.
Half-formed, spilling ink and silence,
Premature, fragile, and raw,
She stretches toward me,
Trembling with tangled lines —
As if to say,
Hold me.
She asks for nothing but a quiet kind of care—
Not perfection, not polish,
Just presence.

(to be continued...)

“I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z“.

Hola! This poem is part of my Ars Poetica – BlogchatterA2Z 2025 series, where I explore the art of poetry through 26 stanzas, each beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. Every day, a new stanza unfolds, building upon the previous ones intuitively and organically. If you’re just joining in, feel free to read from the beginning or simply dive into today’s reflection on poetry.

Stanza 7 of the Ars Poetica—Gestation of Grace

Giving her the time she needs to open up,
I carry her in the fabric of my being.
She lingers in every cell, every nerve—
a quiet pulse I cannot unfeel.
It’s like the gestation of something sacred,
where anxiety and awe
weave themselves into breath.
An unknown life grows within,
grows around, grows through—
consuming me, wholly—
my care, my energy,
my very sense of self.
And I don’t mind vanishing into her—
for this is no ordinary surrender.
This creation has chosen me,
a gift seeded by the universe,
waiting to be born in word.

(to be continued...)

“I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z“.

Hola! This poem is part of my Ars Poetica – BlogchatterA2Z 2025 series, where I explore the art of poetry through 26 stanzas, each beginning with a different letter of the alphabet. Every day, a new stanza unfolds, building upon the previous ones intuitively and organically. If you’re just joining in, feel free to read from the beginning or simply dive into today’s reflection on poetry.

Stanza 6 of the Ars Poetica—Fathoming the Unfathomable

From the hush of intuition, a question stirs:
 What holds the poem—form or freedom?
 Is it the spine of a sonnet or the spill of free verse
 That makes it belong to this moment’s breath?
 How do we fathom what resists being known?
 Do we chase it down, begging for clarity,
 Or wait—still, receptive—
 As it arrives bearing its secret confession?
 A bloom in the dark,
 Not of confusion,
 But creation.

(to be continued...)

“I’m participating in #BlogchatterA2Z“.