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Villanelle Death Poems | Villanelle Poems About Death

These Villanelle Death poems are examples of Villanelle poems about Death. These are the best examples of Villanelle Death poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Villanelle | |

Priorities Viewed by a Dying Man

Death be not proud but humble with strife
Old man flicks ashes, has one last choke
‘Tis nothing to fear, just the nature of life
 
Many passed before him, cut off like a knife
They fester in his memory with this his final smoke
Death be not proud but humble with strife

In youth there were ladies, his courtships were rife 
But never a vow, no promises he spoke
‘Tis nothing to fear, just the nature of life
 
He lived wild and free, never seeking a wife 
Much wealth he acquired, never to be broke 
Death be not proud but humble with strife

He failed to see beyond the edge of gold’s knife
Shared nothing, loved no one, found no comforting cloak 
‘Tis nothing to fear, just the nature of life
 
Tonight he wishes that he should have changed his life
He snuffs his candle, knows he’ll not feel heaven’s stroke
Death be not proud but humble with strife
‘Tis nothing to fear, just the nature of life


by Carolyn Devonshire
Written June 5, 2010


Details | Villanelle | |

MY VILLANELLE

I want to learn to live before I die
To glimpse the light that makes my vision clear
To see the truth that lies within the lie.

I freely put the questions ‘how?’ and ‘why?’
And seek the face unknown in darkest fear.
I want to learn to live before I die.

The days and years stream swiftly swiftly by
In shimmering illusions cherished dear
Despite the truth that lies within the lie.

I found my hand in yours, so you and I
Gave each our vows, impassioned, young, sincere.
I want to learn to live before I die.

The teachers teach, the prophets prophesy
But miss the mystic rhythms of the sphere
Nor see the truth that lies within the lie;

Pure-hearted self; I sense a higher cry
To never leave the far yet love the near.
I want to learn to live before I die
To see the truth that lies within the lie.


– Harley White

(March – 1994)


Details | Villanelle | |

Our Eternal Wedding House

Even death could not cause our love to part,
This promise has always sounded so right,
These words of hope still echo in my heart.

When they found his body, tears did not start,
Through this strong shock, I continued to fight,
Even death could not cause our love to part.

Stole to his fresh grave with a garden cart,
Our wedding vows I began to recite;
These words of hope still echo in my heart.

I dug with fervor, my body did smart,
yet never ceased digging all through the night.
Even death could not cause our love to part.

To our wedding house we arrived, stalwart,
Just as the porch was kissed by morning light;
These words of hope still echo in my heart.

Blue and cold, he remained a work of art, 
From my opened wrists flowed the crimson, bright.
Even death could not cause our love to part,
These words of hope still echo in my heart.


Details | Villanelle | |

Night Stalker

Within the forest’s dream of night’s true fright
shadows twist obsidian trees torment,
the cypress writhe in blood moon’s bright delight.

The hunter hides his nascent lust for might 
and so the doe flees by man’s bow unbent,  
within the forest’s dream of night’s true fright.
	
The cypress writhes in blood moon’s bright delight,
bedevil not the finer soul, repent,
the destined deed, must feed, man’s plight.

With deadly skill, fletched shaft sheers frosty night.
The horned hart does fall in wonderment, 		
within the forest’s dream of night’s true fright.

And torment flows in drops of crimson sight,
distorting right and light with man’s intent.
The cypress writhes in blood moon’s bright delight

Into the holy water blood rings light
for life is all and death is but dissent, 
within the forest’s dream of night’s true fright,
the cypress writhes in blood moon’s bright delight.




Details | Villanelle | |

Death Calls

I see you there, for me waiting,
you hover in endless patience,
now I pass, death me is calling.

Yet I linger on, each breath rasping, 
as I am clearing my conscience,
I see you there, for me waiting.

Too soon the curtains are parting,
now at an end is my patience,
now I pass, death me is calling.

Time is slowing, it's so daunting,
draining away is my essence.
I see you there, for me waiting.


Grievances now aside casting,
Letting in instead, some cogence,
now I pass, death me is calling.

Death I have treated with voidance,
giving it little reverence,
I see you there, for me waiting,
now I pass, death me is calling.


Details | Villanelle | |

Share the Wealth Bestowed Upon You

Those bestowed upon them wealth, so much there is to do,	
For the sick and down are crying out for us to do our part,
Impart your desirable fortunes and grant wishes to come true. 

Dying children wishing, trusting you’ll come through, 
To depart the angels of suffering from the afflicted heart,
Those bestowed upon them wealth, so much there is to do. 

Loving St. Jude of those in need rests his faith upon you,
For giving of what you treasure most is truly a work of art, 
Impart your desirable fortunes and grant wishes to come true.

Restoring smiles to those once shamed, grant children start anew,
For bringing joy to those who grieve from others sets you apart,
Those bestowed upon them wealth, so much there is to do.

Abundant are those with plentiful hopes, their needs are but a few,
So give of what’s been given you, afford others make a new start,
Impart your desirable fortunes and grant wishes to come true

Of earthly treasures a miser not be for in death it goes not with you,
Give to the needy your treasured gifts before death they do depart.
Those bestowed upon them wealth, so much there is to do,
Impart your desirable fortunes and grant wishes to come true


Details | Villanelle | |

Walk Softly

Walk softly across this eternal bed
Where we plant seeds of grief in the ground.
Like roots, let tangled memories spread.
 
Bring bundles of rosebuds, white and red
To bloom brightly like flowering crowns.
Walk softly across this eternal bed.
 
This is where heaven and earth are unwed,
Souls released while bodies are bound.
Like roots, let tangled memories spread.
 
Silence weaves sadness with fragile thread;  
Unspoken words haunt without sound.
Walk softly across this eternal bed.
 
The cold ground is lush where tears are shed,
Falling freely to water or drown. 
Like roots, let tangled memories spread. 

Lacking direction, lost spirits tread
Where echoes of feelings resound.
Walk softly across this eternal bed.
Like roots, let tangled memories spread.


Details | Villanelle | |

Deadly Raven

Sitting atop the old decaying tree Is a deadly raven quite pathetic Where his lusting eyes do more than just see An unsuspecting group thinks they are free Raven thinks of a move that’s genetic Sitting atop the old decaying tree No-one knows what it’s like to truly be One of this group, death is just magnetic Where his lusting eyes do more than just see Down he swoops taking one soul completely Returns to tree, looking quite poetic Sitting atop the old decaying tree The raven smiles as he caws wickedly Soul collecting might be more aesthetic Where his lusting eyes do more than just see The raven flies high looking lustfully All that he’s collected that’s prophetic Sitting atop the old decaying tree Where his lusting eyes do more than just see
Russell Sivey


Details | Villanelle | |

The Arrow

The arrow pierced his armour
causing an open painful wound
he had thought there would be glamour

He lay waiting feeling amour
as he saw a woman gowned
The arrow pierced his armour

His wound she did kindly cover
to her spirit he's attuned
he had thought there would be glamour

she poured into it liquor
which stung making it burn and pound
the arrow pierced his armour

It was now letting out odour
she made sure it was tightly bound
He had thought there would be glamour

At his grave a single mourner
her tears were falling without sound
the arrow pierced his armour

No glory here just some clamour
dead he lay no longer earthbound
The arrow pierced his armour
he had thought there would be glamour



sadly many young men think war glamorous
until they face the battlefield soon to
learn there is none just pain, suffering 
and death.


Details | Villanelle | |

Take Me Home

Take me home, oh take me home to stay
To a weary heart some comfort bring
Let me rest , I long for yesterday...

Years have past , the sky is turning gray
For me soon the bells of death will ring
Take me home, oh take me home to stay...

In my youth's folly I went away
Now to the past my thoughts do cling
Let me rest, I long for yesterday...

I thought to conquer the world one day
But instead I felt the serpent's sting
Take me home, oh take me home to stay...

Just let me smell life's old bouquet
And remember old songs  to sing
Let me rest, I long for yesterday...

I see the light of home so far away
And the thrush upon its silent wing
Take me home, oh take me home to stay
Let me rest, I long for yesterday.


Details | Villanelle | |

Its Nice

I guess everything I did or do is not good enough for you,
This Mr Nice guy is not working out to your standards isn't it true.
What are you asking for from me, would you like the beast unleashed,
like it was before I turned into an angel that was kissed? 

You have been asking for it, for a long time now,
the beast wants to tear out of my skin and make you drown. 
Kill you and devour you piece by piece,
than spit you out into hell where you'll burn like the trees. 

What haven't I given you that you have treated me this way,
I show you live and care but you burned my heart like a pile of hay. 
So for my final words, be cautious of the daemon YOU have unleashed,
Cause one wrong move and your body will be incomplete.


Details | Villanelle | |

Raven Undone

I

Take a step back, your Muse will die this night
          Curse echoing loudly in Raven's ear:
                        Take a step forward, your Muse will find light

           How can it be? Her Life looking so bright?
           Plunged into darkness, imprisoned by fear
Take a step back, your Muse will die this night

Envious witch acting out of sheer spite,
black-haired beauty's bane, which way shall she steer?
              Take a step forward, your Muse will find light

           No clear-cut choice for troubled Raven's plight,
           should Muse be killed to save a love so dear?
Take a step back, your Muse will die this night

Double-edged sword where iron wills fight
A split she contemplates, she sheds lone tear
              Take a step forward, your Muse will find light

           Tear gives birth to rain, she weighs what is right
           Lover and Muse helpless as Death loomed near
Take a step back, your Muse will die this night
                        Take a step forward, your Muse will find light


II

Flash of lightning above, earth quakes below
Ink rain mars sky, as deep flood waters rise
Lover…Muse… Raven-- only Death will know

T e e t e r ing, unsure…but her fear doesn’t show
Blood in her veins stop flowing, crimson ice
Flash of lightning above, earth quakes below

Pen plunges deep, heart dealt with harsh blow 
Her survival, is what she would surmise
Lover…Muse… Raven-- only Death will know

Winds lash, thunder crashes, but embers glow
Hope buried in soul lights fire in eyes
Flash of lightning above, earth quakes below

Heart bursting at seams, but ink stops its flow 
Raven wonders whether love would suffice
Lover…Muse… Raven-- only Death will know

Raven’s undone, doesn’t know where to go
Step back, step forward…she stands still as ice
Flash of lightning above, earth quakes below
Lover…Muse… Raven-- only Death will know


***
--nikko :) 
for Constance's Among the Dead contest 







Details | Villanelle | |

Villanelle: Oscar Victorius

Villanelle: Oscar Victorius

Lock not the door in the face of your fate
   The intruder lies dimly in your place
Will he die for you were he your true mate

Soft the dark wind taps in every haste late
   Makes your darling come lie by your fire-place
Lock not the door in the face of your fate

Harsh words stifle your heart uttered so late
   Behind closed doors locked by fear on your face
Will he die for you were he your true mate

Will he run as fast as feet duplicate
   When you tug at the bed-sheets of his race
Lock not the door in the face of your fate

Whose screams you heard in your embattled state
   Before four blasts broke the silence of your grace
Will he die for you were he your true mate

Now your voice shrieks still behind the loud gate
   What mindless mistake takes you out of space
Lock not the door in the face of your fate
   Will he die for you were he your true mate.

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2013


Details | Villanelle | |

Funeral

His family pretended not to cry 
But both his sisters had no heart to spare; 
They said they loved him, yet it was a lie. 

The blazing sun one summer day drew nigh; 
Its orange radiance it could not share. 
His family pretended not to cry. 

There was a man in hell beneath that sky-- 
Discerning now that care, like warmth, was rare. 
They said they loved him, yet it was a lie. 

All that his soul could utter was a sigh; 
The shattered saints in Heaven said Lord's Prayer. 
His family pretended not to cry. 

Like sunlight, his disease bore down to dry 
Emotions spent without concern or care. 
They said they loved him, yet it was a lie. 

Upon the desert ground he lay to die-- 
Addiction was much more than he could bear. 
His family pretended not to cry; 
They said they loved him, yet it was a lie.


Details | Villanelle | |

This Undying Wish

I wish I could understand why he cannot not weep
Every minute, every hour, every single day.
Then maybe I could finally get some sleep.

Life might be a slippery slope. But not so steep
One would be forced to look away.
I wish I could understand why he cannot not weep.

Does he now remember all the promises he did not keep?
If only he would stop apologizing today,
Then maybe I could finally get some sleep.

Dear Lord, the most merciful, let him not sink too deep.
Though I only have these words to pray,
I wish I could understand why he cannot not weep.

I hope one day some consciousness would seep
Or he would run out of guilt to pay.
Then maybe I could finally get some sleep.

Will he stop such an act so juvenile and cheap?
Did he not know I could not forever stay?
I wish I could understand why he cannot not weep.
Then maybe I could finally get some sleep.


Details | Villanelle | |

Road Sixteen Hundred ( Alexandrine Villanelle)

With no idea none at all of what to do,
were sixteen hundred soldiers counted newly dead.
Ask sixteen hundred Pennsylvania Avenue,

How many more to muster, murder; though untrue
the reasons given?  Gone where angels fear to tread,
with no idea none at all of what to do.

Unconcerned for what is lost or even who…
just "Collateral Damage"... that is what they said
at sixteen hundred Pennsylvania Avenue.

From hollow oath the young men follow through
as "Cannon Fodder"… aren't they "lives" instead,
with no idea none at all of what to do,

What loss of value, freedom.  Dressed Red, White, and Blue
now shades of ghostly grey except where they have bled,
Tell sixteen hundred Pennsylvania avenue.

We waited as if deaf and blind to what we knew,  
Now sixteen hundred to untimely death have sped
with no idea none at all of what to do.
Tell sixteen hundred Pennsylvania avenue.


Details | Villanelle | |

Infuriated

- For women who choose to have abortions just so they can continue to whore around.

You make my head swell,
& you're a sad excuse for a woman:
Cold-hearted, selfish, self-righteous witch.

Abortion is a matter of life or death,
yet you choose death for this small being.
You make my head swell.

You work with children every day,
yet you still want to kill the one inside of you.
Cold-hearted, selfish, self-righteous witch.

You give me unwanted goose bumps with those words
"I want an abortion," as you laugh it away.
You make my head swell,

& I have the urge to take the innocent life today, do you?
You disgust me, making me want to vommit.
Cold-hearted, selfish, self-righteous witch

Steal the life of this baby and party your life away,
disregarding the fact that it didn't have a choice in the matter.
You make my head swell
you cold-hearted, selfish, self-righteous witch.

-Caroline Youngless


Details | Villanelle | |

Morning mocks, evening wars

Morning mocks, evening 
wars make better strive
If must overcome heels 
in this roster
There are much beliefs in 
everlasting live.

Pieces and splits are rigid 
when alive
Devils' wraths chainless for 
many master
Morning mocks, evening 
wars make better strive.

Living worthy life begets 
ever-live
And hasten shadows 
overthrone siesta
We shall become history 
when we die

Many laws and more rules 
muse when alive
And must still to the 
opera monster
Morning mocks, evening 
wars make better strive

Surviving the tunnel 
needs better life
By being grateful to man 
and Master
We shall become history 
when we die

There are much believe 
in everlasting live
Less sojourn and final 
route to Master
Morning mocks, evening 
wars make better strive
We shall become history 
when we die


Details | Villanelle | |

I Do Not Need The Light


cradle me in your comfort , night
hide me in your dark corners
for I no longer need  the light

keep me hidden from all sight
sign no hymns in consolation
cradle me in your comfort, night

there need be no candles bright
no shadows on my bosom fall
for I no longer need the light

for this lone road be my right
this dear passage I have earned
cradle me in your comfort, night

alone the falcon on his flight
soaring on it's endless quest
for I no longer need the light

In quiet comfort wrap me tight
there be peace behind the door
cradle me in your comfort, night
for I no longer need the light




Details | Villanelle | |

DEATH RESEMBLES A FADING SUNSET

Death resembles a fading sunset,
another beginning awaits anyone who believes;
the damned curse it, the blessed accept it.


Shedding tears is admitting guilt,
and isn't truth the reason that make them fall?
Death resembles a fading sunset.


Even godless men are transformed by faith,
nothing they regret and that includes their pride;
the damned curse it, the blessed accept it.


Humility keeps righteousness intact;   
aren't proud hearts raged by this beautiful virtue?
The damned curse it, the blessed accept it.    


If goodness is shared, evil won't persist; 
let love triumph over the deeds of wickedness.
The damned curse it, the blessed accept it.


We stare at graves, and still feel hate:
our enemies are powerless and can't harm us.
Death resembles a fading sunset;
the damned curse it, the blessed accept it.


Details | Villanelle | |

The Solitude

My loneliness bleeds but is not stained,
What has become of this light of day?
A solitude of thoughts so mixed, so pained.

The comfort of the night on darkness rained,
To wander the streets with naught to say,
My loneliness bleeds but is not stained.

To walk down the alley, narrow and tear-drained,
Watching for a sign but leading me astray,
A solitude of thoughts so mixed, so pained.

This hurt that covers, a veil ingrained,
Finds me getting on an empty subway,
My loneliness bleeds but is not stained.

Travelling to nowhere by fate ordained,
Until the distance feels furthest away,
A solitude of thoughts so mixed, so pained.

To undergo the sound and suffering so sustained,
 I find myself too hesitant to pray,
My loneliness bleeds but is not stained.
A solitude of thoughts so mixed, so pained.


Details | Villanelle | |

In death throes

 In death throes

Last of the hang-outs  is the cruelest one 
Hanging by tubes or not,  sadly in chains
Saying  bye while  leaving a lot undone

Though you've been through it all under the sun
Some of them carrying a lot of pain
Last of the hang-outs is the cruelest one .

It’s as if some one is holding a gun
To your head and you think  all was in vain
Saying  bye while leaving a lot undone

True it is that some of it was real fun
Which  but silently did leave you all drained.
Last of the hang-outs is the cruelest one

To turn the clock back, there simply are none
When futile with  illnesses  you are lain
Saying  bye while leaving a lot undone

When of no  use  are  kin and even son
And faculties are on a steady wane
Last of the hang-outs is the cruelest one
Saying bye while  leaving a lot undone.

19 Mar 14
Form: Villanelle

To irrita(s)te Charlotte



Details | Villanelle | |

Old Age at Home

You are one issue, born  out of my  tissue
be blessed with all the Glories and beauties of life
peace, happiness and  success I wish you

Remember still I was thirty and just born you
Parted  love and left  our only love sign, my wife  
You are one issue, born  out of my  tissue 

To render my duties, you sacrifice young  beauties too
As I ignored my youth for you childhood should not strife
peace happiness and  success I wish you

Old  old man’s burden on shoulders of old man new
Medicines , health drinks, bills and dippers  in rife
You are one issue, born  out of my  tissue

an overdose of medicine can be  fatal I knew
my nerves tender and lying there a knife
peace happiness and  success I wish you

Thought , experience, joys and tasks just like a dew
Just being and breathing feeling the bliss is true life
You are one issue, born  out of my  tissue
peace happiness and  success I wish you


Details | Villanelle | |

Life Rages On

The sun dances above the clouds                                                                                   Though the sunsets with no regrets                                                                               Death comes but light is my shroud                                                   
*
Be wise my son good night for now Joy in the morning light does not forget The sun dances above the clouds
*
Good or bad both in the end do bow Though sadness fills your eyes so wet Death comes but light is my shroud
*
Rejoice at my goodbye it is only for now Reunions are sweet it is like we never left The sun dances above the cloud
*
Though my eyes dim and a voice not so loud Whispers of love do pass through the dark net Death comes but light is my shroud
*
We will meet again among the crowd’s When morning has come after the sunset The sun dances above the clouds Death comes but light is my shroud


Details | Villanelle | |

Farewell

It is tearing me apart, bit by bit,
the words; horrendous words they care to yell.
School... I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

Pushing, shoving, is there and end to it?
Again I am trapped; locked in an endless hell.
It is tearing me apart, bit by bit.

The staring, the whispers, it's a good fit,
for the victim who is afraid to tell.
School... I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

Another name, another bruise, one more slit,
will dying break me from this hurtful spell?
It is tearing me apart, bit by bit.

Why me? They won't stop so shall I just quit?
Pain, it's not worth it, sorry but farewell.
School... I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.

Tears roll down as my life ends with a slit,
finally escaping this endless hell.
Finally, it tore me apart, bit by bit.
School... I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.


Details | Villanelle | |

Something Stirring

As night descends, casting darkness
all is silent and so very still
waiting, listening, and breathless

Into the dark of nights coldness
do you feel it, that stone cold chill
as night descends, casting darkness

The cold seeping chilling  denseness
it seems to invade , to instill
waiting, listening, and breathless

Something  stirring in the blackness
the noises now loud and so shrill
as night descends, casting darkness 

Death shows his face full of graveness
in the dark stands waiting to kill
waiting, listening and breathless 

Now life seeps away, its painless
just a gasp then it flees noiseless
as night descends, casting darkness
waiting, listening and breathless


Details | Villanelle | |

A Cry In the Dark

A Poem by: Tim Bryant
___________________


Fluid pours out, a weep begins
Sadness follows wretched morning
Tones of acid, hell wells within!

Frayed endings a shattered life sins
Mountains walk between us scorning
Fluid pours out, a weep begins

Beyond the grave, they feel no winds
She rests there tasting in mourning
Tones of acid, hell wells within!

All the while, twiddling thumbs ends
With hate of feelings, no warning,
Fluid pours out, a weep begins

The throes of pain a reminder grins
In reflection, drinking forlorn
Tones of acid, hell wells within!

Bubbling up, sound of cry lends
To the feeling of rage forming,
Fluid pours out, a weep begins,
Tones of acid, hell wells within!



--------------------------------------

For: Michael J Falotico's Contest "Sounds of a Cry"


Details | Villanelle | |

The Leavings

My Lord the end is near, gone within have I to thee…..
multitudes of bright, lemon drop, sweet tarts pave our way. 
Choosing now to remain, linger, going deep with in the ocean free.

Forms incorporeal above me rise to celestial sea. 
The earth bathes now in rarest form portrayed.
My Lord the end is near, gone within have I to thee…..

While Hosanna’s fade from still whole memory 
with outstretching hand a mate for me waylaid.
Multitudes of bright, lemon drop, sweet hearts pave our way 

Alpha and omega will we be, and from all sin have we been freed.
For we seek the harder path the joy delayed.
My Lord the end is near, gone within have I to thee…..

Yet, He abandons we, “NO He does NOT!” a different fate have we.
And, with golden kisses each soul drops as they pray. 
Multitudes of bright, lemon drop, sweet hearts pave our way. 

The larger scheme of dark and light replays with joyous glee.
Deep with our Lord, His Love He does display. 
My Lord the end is near, gone within have I to thee…..
Multitudes of bright, lemon drop, sweet hearts pave my way. 


Details | Villanelle | |

Cinis ad Cinerem, Pulvis ad Pulverem

Do the ashes rest on the frigid ground so cold?
As they are seeing the next steps of infinity,
Ask that question of yours to the reaper, be bold.

Dust whence we came, dust shall we leave old,
Laying down I pray for us all, a touch of divinity,
Do the ashes rest on the frigid ground so cold?

What heavens seen or hell's abhorred, no gold
To replace what you've lost, are you missing eternity?
Ask that question of yours to the reaper, be bold.

Deaths dark door opens wide, it's coming foretold
By understanding, God's grace fills now the vicinity yet
Do the ashes rest on the frigid ground so cold?

Give in and surrender sweet one, bells have tolled 
For you this time, meet them and with holy trinity
Ask that question of yours to the reaper, be bold.

No explanation for his love so gracefully doled 
Out just so, yet you ponder this beautiful affinity,
Do the ashes rest on the frigid ground so cold?
Ask that question of yours to the reaper, be bold.










Details | Villanelle | |

A Place Of Goodbyes

A place of goodbyes is the earth
Each generation we let go
Heaven_ place of hellos and mirth

Whitey went_ will there be rebirth
Or with animals only end though
A place of goodbyes is the earth

Sadness overwhelmed_she had worth
Was good ratter now receives gateau
Heaven_ place of hellos and mirth

While here on this earth, let me unearth
And expand on my good traits let grow
A place of goodbyes is the earth

I'll leave_ take spiritual rebirth
Put on my countenance's warm glow
Heaven_ place of hellos and mirth

All will leave in flight that is dearth
Now new body on me bestow
A place of goodbyes is the earth
Heaven_place of hellos and mirth

Click on "About This Poem"


Details | Villanelle | |

Watching and Waiting

Watching as a loved sibling slips away,
I bring up happy memories we own.
I wonder why I am the one to stay.

Resentful of the passing of each day,
at times connected only by the phone,
watching as a loved sibling slips away.

I notice his black hair has turned to gray,
as he says he is chilled unto the bone.
I wonder why I am the one to stay.

To save him there’s no price I wouldn’t pay.
His going leaves me that more all alone,
watching as a loved sibling slips away.

In trying my deep grief not to display
I keep my features immobile as stone.
I wonder why I am the one to stay.

Falling at last upon my knees to pray
I ask He hear me from His mighty throne.
Watching as a loved sibling slips away,
I wonder why I am the one to stay.





Details | Villanelle | |

MARY WAS A HAPPY GIRL TO BE CHERISHED ALWAYS

Mary was a happy girl to be cherished always,
everyone who knew her was simply marveled...
at her romantic words that rang like merry bells.


Unfortunately, she died in her early fifties;
a precious life was lost but her memory remained...
Mary was a happy girl to be cherished always!


She was young, bright and beautiful as stars...
the moving stories she wrote were kind of sad;
Mary's big eyes reflected pretty aqua skies!


People came from distant towns and cities
to hear her voice so resonant and kind;
Mary was a happy girl to be cherished always!


At her wake, friends and family recited prayers...
her influence on them must have been grand;
Mary was a happy girl to be cherished always!


Details | Villanelle | |

Villanelle: Martin-Pecheur, the Fisher King

Villanelle : Martin-Pêcheur*, the Fisher King	

Walk not dark alleys nor the dim-lit lane
   Darkless suns lighten not the skin in vain
Cry not « Help ! » « Help ! » lest you be thought insane

Stand not your ground  in the land guns profane
   Hark ! the voice struggling through ageless pain
Walk not dark alleys nor the dim-lit lane

Think not who will keep vigil high on vane
   Winds echo myriad voices with rain
Cry not « Help ! » « Help ! » lest you be thought insane

Seek not to proclaim your forefathers’ bane
   Your pathetic looks of sufferance contain
Walk not dark alleys nor the dim-lit lane
 
Your life you bartered for a head sans mane
   Who thought well he had everything to gain
Cry not « Help ! » « Help ! » lest you be thought insane

Towards which Red Star* must spirit emplane
   When your King his son wishes you ordain
Walk not dark alleys nor the dim-lit lane
Cry not « Help ! » « Help ! » lest you be thought insane

•	Martin-Pêcheur : French for « kingfisher » ; here the Fisher King
* Red Star : Red dwarfs in our Milky Way where some 60 billion planets circulating them
       could likely support life.

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013


Details | Villanelle | |

Last Fight

How many bones must break for you to sight?
Strong mind came withered and has lifted far,
you should not be scared to lose this last fight.

Who are you to figure that you had might?
Like childhood games that have gotten you scars...
How many bones must break for you to sight.

And yet all this wisdom has given fright;
Empty bottles always shatter in bars.
You should not be scared to lose this last fight.

Freedom, that is flowing high like a kite,
could not help you pull away from this tar.
How many bones must break for you to sight.

Grasping the past when you should bare the light,
don't dwindle to leave your ashes in war,
you should not be scared to lose this last fight.

Just give in to peace and throw away spite,
not many hours on this one bright star...
How many bones must break for you to sight,
you should not be scared to lose this last fight!


Details | Villanelle | |

Villanelle for the Death of Archery

There are far too many things that you don't know
The revelry and squalor tucked away
It's time to pull the curtain on my show

A million little boxes in a row
To bury or to swallow was the game
There are far too many things that you don't know

Choked it down the prickles of my throat
Then replaced my shovel with a spade
It's time to pull the curtain on my show

The perfect Swedish angel in the snow
The sickness that I still feel to this day
There are far too many things that you don't know

I loved you then I love you now and so
Painful that it has to be this way
It's time to pull the curtain on my show

Complacency and solemn still the bow
The quivver and the arrows won't obey
There are far too many things that you don't know
It's time to pull the curtain on my show


Details | Villanelle | |

Heavenly Tune

There's a sweet melody in that room
Close to God on his shining throne
For Kenny is singing in perfect tune

Accompanied by David's harp and croon
Kenny is singing the sweetest song
There's a sweet melody in that room

Kenny's crown is reflecting glory shone
Know that  he never did any wrong
For Kenny is singing in perfect tune

Jesus just loves to hear him sing a tune
Some of the most melodious songs
There's  a sweet melody in that room

Chirp, chirp, chirp he croons
All the angels join in the throng
For Kenny is singing in perfect tune

Gifted with the voice of gold 
Singing now tunes all untold
There's a sweet melody in that room
For Kenny is singing in perfect tune


Details | Villanelle | |

Somnolent Days and Restless Nights

Somnolent days then restless nights sleeping on the floor.
Eccentricity is custom, conventional thinking an allegation. 
Should each sunrise shine dimmer than the morning before?

A photograph of wickedness captures the allure.  
Creation falsely proven, all eyes suspicious of truth.
Somnolent days then restless nights sleeping on the floor.

Smooth are the wrinkles of the aged like pebbles on the shore. 
Some think of eternity in frivolous masks with replies halfhearted.
Should each sunrise shine dimmer than the morning before?

Locked in this cruel world a Savior is knocking at the door.
Desperate friends accuse each other of holding the sacred key.
Somnolent days then restless nights sleeping on the floor.

Where once the believers were thought to be a bore,
The blessed fool’s reflected death humbles his haughtiness.
Should each sunrise shine dimmer than the morning before?

Fools we all are searching for light in our minds’ dark corners
Somnolent days then restless nights sleeping on the floor
Should each sunrise shine dimmer than the morning before?


Details | Villanelle | |

The Wildebeast

Save this animal from it's fate.
Before it is too late.
Don't sit back and watch the sight.
Of thousands of animals, day and night.
Pile up dead.

Help to save them.
You can too.
Don't talk. See it through.
A Thousand bulldozers, tractors, all.
A thousand drivers, mechanics, all.
The cliffs to fall.

They must migrate for food.
The way, we can show.
To come and go.
In safety and quality.
Without the terrible agony.

No holiday this year.
The money give here.
Sit on your sofa.
Think it over.
Watch them live not die.

................................







Details | Villanelle | |

The messenger

Raven, flying through the night
bringer of everlasting rest
against his word you must not fight

Works for the one who takes the light
the one who knows what time is best
raven, flying through the night

For although his words may bite
to you he flew from his nest
against his word you must not fight

Through his master's strong might
he can speak to the smallest pest
raven, flying through the night

His master sends him to the site
and though you think I jest
against his word you must not fight

While I sit here, this I write
he is perched on my shoulder cawing with zest
raven, flying through the night
against his word I must not fight


Details | Villanelle | |

When History Cries

Men come forth
Black clouds hover, answer the call
When history cries

Upon the field, once green
Flowing red, wars bitter friend
Men come forth

Sweethearts love lost forever
Patriotism wounded, refuses to die
When history cries

Who knows the heart of warriors
Uniforms identify living and dead, ranks define
Men come forth

When next the call to arms
Forget not valor upon whose fields hero’s are born
Men come forth
When history cries


Details | Villanelle | |

The Query

And shall I into deeper silence pass
Decomposed to dust, my being denied
As if I was just a mere blade of grass

And all my kingdom's pride, nothing last
My meaning and existence a strange void
Like every glory that through time has past

Shall there be no fury when the hawk clasp
My breath in terror? Say, who decide
This dread demise ... the demon mouthed asp

Slithering around my birth, the smooth glass
Of my illusions? Who is there to chide?
Why upon me Adam's burden should pass

I, who renounced his sin, must bear his mass
And for what then was the Christ crucified?
Should not I this blind cul-de-sac surpass

And be translated to that sea of glass
Where self in eternity may abide
And my origin its purpose at last
For God in me leave not nor can subside


Details | Villanelle | |

Before his hands form frost upon my breath

Before his hands form frost upon my breath
And pierce me with his dark immortal night
I plan to play a game of chess with Death

Distant and in the dark he took my Beth
I fear not; but her eyes...this fright I'll fight!
Before his hands form frost upon my breath

Must I intake myself amounts of meth?
To win a match and moments more of light
I plan to play a game of chess with Death

My strategy shall speak of Cain and Seth
And Abel's life, trapping his king and knight!
Before his hands form frost upon my breath

Methinks myself more morbid than Macbeth
My throne is life, fear vanish from my sight!
I plan to play a game of chess with Death

Before my coffins' head is crowned a wreath,
Before my eyes evolve forever white,
Before his hands form frost upon my breath
I plan to play a game of chess with Death


Details | Villanelle | |

No Graves

No Graves

Those fraught with tears the dead unborn have plight.
Young spirits yearning praying seeking…day.
Graves?  None for unborn stripped of every right. 

Energized by life…microscopic sight.
Dreams yet unborn still hope to find their stay.
Those fraught with tears the dead unborn have plight.

Safety in their mothers’ wombs knows not fright. 
Nor have they had a chance to kneels and pray.
Graves?  None for unborn stripped of every right.

And trust betrayed too often leads to blight.
When someone’s mother looses livings way.
Those fraught with tears the dead unborn have plight.

Without a voice, there is no longer light.
A helpless baby’s soul will never play.   
Graves?  None for unborn stripped of every right.

Ripped apart before one earthly sight. 
Silently, without a word to say 
Those fraught with tears the dead unborn have plight.
Graves?  None for unborn stripped of every right.

© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
March 15, 2010
Poetic form: Villanelle


Details | Villanelle | |

Nine Months to a broken heart

we were excited to have a little one growing
inside we showed our pride
Nine Months To Broken Hearts
We know you liked going over the bumps
when we were in the car
kicking at the bath water at a far
Nine Months To Broken Hearts
You were our Christmas surprise
we got to see your beautiful blue eyes
Nine Months To Broken Hearts
When it was time for you to be born
trouble was there like a horn there to warn
Nine Months To Bronken Hearts
You were born and could not breath
all we could say was help him please
Nine Months To Bronken Hearts
We had to make the choice no parent
should have to make to let him go for God to take
Nine Months To Broken Hearts


Details | Villanelle | |

When Winter Fell Upon Our Graves

When winter fell upon our graves

The light of the moon illuminated our paths

To the cold ground we were no longer slaves.

Flowing through the air in waves

We could finally read our epitaphs

When winter fell upon our graves;

And the snow made its way across the plains

As we felt the cold winds against our backs

To the cold ground we were no longer slaves.

Sunlight breaks through as nighttime fades

But doesn't show our tracks

When winter fell upon our graves.

No longer bound by our faiths

Freed from our traps

To the cold ground we were no longer slaves.

Acting out our final roles in our eternal plays

Was it all a dream? Perhaps.

When winter fell upon our graves

To the cold ground we were no longer slaves.














Details | Villanelle | |

Road To Home

Wash boardy ruff country roads leading home
Sun dried each day of your long useful life
Over dark green fields no more will I roam

Those dark green fields that are wide leads to wrong
Not warmth, love, understanding, only strife
Wash boardy ruff country roads leading home

Harder to climb, narrower close to home
Nearer, nearer begin to see great sights
Over dark green fields no more will I roam

Drawing, drawing come, long hill top see dome
There are friends, family, offering life
Wash boardy ruff country roads leading home

The fields were greener, there was fun, the songs
Offering entertainment  glitter sights
Over dark green fields no more will I roam

Now sights focused on heavenly song
Lights brighter at end of the narrow way
Wash boardy ruff country roads leading home
Over dark green fields no more will I roam


Details | Villanelle | |

Visit

Comes your way this wicked something.  Beware 
Of the Banshee wails seeping into dreams.
Eyes closed and with calming breath, say a prayer.
	
An effigy looms overhead take care.
In the distance a requiem doth scream.
Comes your way this wicked something, beware.

From deep slumber you awake with a scare,
Colour fades as ice moves through your bloodstream.
Eyes closed and with calming breath, say a prayer.

Sound is lost upon your lips, naught but air,
Movement is but a fading sunlight’s gleam.
Comes your way this wicked something, beware.

Tracing your face with its bony finger,
You see soulless eyes bathed in blaspheme.
Eyes closed and with calming breath, say a prayer.
	
A storm busts through the closed window with flair
And with the flicker of the candle he
Comes your way, this wicked something, beware.
Eyes closed and with calming breath, say a prayer.


Details | Villanelle | |

Let the Weeds Grow

Let wildflowers grow lofty on my grave.
Do not hoe them when their young and tender.
May they share my plot, may I be their slave.

Their seeds seek not for a coward or brave
let wild they wonder and blossoms render.
Let wildflowers grow haughty top my grave.

Give them this small ground a refuge to save 
from death by scythe and the lack of splendor.  
Let them mark my plot as an arrogant slave's.

For it was in life no comfort I gave,
no pity for flower, love or cinder.
Let grand swathes of weeds cover my grave

and  be warned all who see and not deprave
such joys of life we gladly surrender.
Let them share this spot with vanity's slave.

Let weeds flows over me, wave after wave,
may I in death be their meek defender?
Let wildflowers bloom lofty on my grave,
may they mark my plot, may I be their slave.


Details | Villanelle | |

Sores

So many times before
I have claimed to know.
These things now form sores.

Life was so simply a tour:
Look at the sun; look at the snow.
So many times before.

Now life can be called a bore:
At 5:45 will be the show.
These things now form sores.

I was obsessed with old lore:
Luke Skywalker, "Nooo!"
So many times before.

My body unscathed to the care.
Like uncooked dough.
These things now form sores.

I used to live for so much more,
Now I eat much like a crow.
So many times before,
These things now form sores.


Details | Villanelle | |

another way to look at things

The dawn, rebirth. Awakening. This one shutters.
Taking hold of something new. Oh so nervous.
The grass seems to be dying again.

The dead trees grow, spiraling toward heaven.
Retreat to the past, feelings fluttering back inside.
The dawn, rebirth. Awakening. This one shutters.

Pains throbbing, back aching. No that’s the heart.
Scarf warming, winter chill, feeding the menace.
The grass seems to be dying again.

Purple flowers emanating thoughts of sorrow.
Bleeding into the pens ink. Taking back to the cosmos.
The dawn, rebirth. Awakening. This one shutters.

Moist ground, morning holds such beauty.
Fountains of white gold, fill the mind. Euphoric.
The grass seems to be dying again.

Stuttering fears hold back. Contemplating suicide.
Breaking the silence with a scream, painful outcry
The dawn, rebirth. Awakening. This one shutters.
The grass seems to be dying again.


Details | Villanelle | |

thou shall not weep...

Can you see the abandoned heart?
A pale moon dying, release the cold.
Just sitting around waiting for death.

Bringing it all back into the light.
Watching everything, seeing nothing.
Can you see the abandoned heart?

All alone the tears turn into blood.
All alone lost in the misery, better leave.
Just sitting around waiting for death.

The soul bleeds endlessly, crying for her.
This blood cupped in the hands remains.
Can you see the abandoned heart?

The fire consumes the soul entirely.
The weight of the pain, immortal.
Just sitting around waiting for death.

Temptation calls from the depths
Oblivion beckons with its loneliness 
Can you see the abandoned heart?
Just sitting around waiting for death.


Details | Villanelle | |

Domino effect

Barbarian heroes, men of respect
Amazon women, plotting to barter
And legends preach of Russian roulette

And legends preach of Russian roulette
Ritualistic roles, a common martyr
Barbarian heroes, men of respect

Barbarian heroes, men of respect
Are icy cold in mountain flakes
And legends preach of Russian roulette

And legends preach of Russian roulette
Far from warm light, raising stakes
Barbarian heroes, men of respect

Barbarian heroes, men of respect
The pre-empted massacre looms
And legends preach of Russian roulette

Acoustic sounds, resourceful doom
And purpose lost, enforced, entombed
And legends preach of Russian roulette
Barbarian heroes, men of respect  


Details | Villanelle | |

Walking The Reservoir

Walking the reservoir, parched and dry,
beneath white hot sun in cloudless sky;
through shimmering haze that sears the soul
sucking all life from the water hole.

Vacuum lungs cough words that sigh,
arid prayers breathed to mountain’s high,
emploring the heaven’s to weep and cry
yet grass burns black from moisture stole,
walking the reservoir.

To prayers cast there is no reply,
on scorching thermals vulture’s fly
and crazy-paved cracks will take their toll,
a life-blood drought in this dustbowl,
all good intentions blaze and die
walking the reservoir.


Details | Villanelle | |

it has been torn...

In desperate need of a needle and thread. 
Bringing the pain back into the light.
This heart on the floor, is already dead.

This chest growing heavy, filling with dread.
Could not lift it up, with all of my might.
In desperate need of a needle and thread.

Don’t touch that, take this heart instead.
The thought of the toxins, fill me with fright.
This heart on the floor, is already dead.

These visions and nightmares dance in my head.
I could even have wings, and never take flight.
In desperate need of a needle and thread.

Nothings been seen, and nothings been said.
For nothings been heard, and no ones in sight.
This heart on the floor, is already dead.

The soul must be dying, for all fear has fled.
Not god nor devil could understand my plight.
In desperate need of a needle and thread.
This heart on the floor, is already dead.