ABAB, AABB, slant rhyme, internal rhyme... poetry vocabulary can feel like homework pretty fast. I wrote a visual guide to the useful bits: how rhymes sound, how schemes work, and when to forget the rules and just write.
I made Rhyma, a tiny poetry game. You write one line, but only see the line before yours. Then a stranger somewhere in the world continues it. The results are usually funny, weird, or both.
Collaborative poetry existed long before phones: folded paper, hidden lines, fixed endings, and poems passed from one person to the next. I wrote about seven ways people have turned poetry into a game, from renga and Exquisite Corpse to Rhyma.
I put together 50 prompts for writing poems with friends, writing groups, or strangers. They give you somewhere to start without deciding where the poem has to go. My favorite: "The office printer knows one secret."
Can writing poetry be good for your mental health? I dug through the research, and the honest answer is: possibly, for some people, in some settings. I wrote about what we know, what we don’t, and why creating something together may matter.
I played a version of Exquisite Corpse at school, long before I knew it had a name or that the text game went back to the Surrealists in 1925. I wrote up the rules, a paper setup, and a few variations: www.rhyma.app/articles/exq...