Best Villanelle Poems
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Villanelle
Poems
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Villanelle
Poem
Darling, you dragged me in too deep
Darling, you dragged me in too deep
And abandoned me like an anchor in a lonely sea.
You shouldn't make promises that you can't keep.
I was doomed once suspicion began to creep
As it swam in your words that lacked in honesty.
Darling, you dragged me in too deep.
Please tell me, did you lose an inch of sleep
Making empty promises and cheating on me?
You shouldn't make promises that you can't keep.
I should've listened to doubt upon taking a leap,
Love should carry no doubt; certainty is key.
Darling, you dragged me in too deep,
This torturously lonely sea does weep
That you could ever reach such a cold degree.
You shouldn't make promises that you can't keep,
But apparently I'm a promise not worth keeping;
If you want to call this love, I'll say it can't be.
Darling, you dragged me in too deep,
You shouldn't make promises that you can't keep.
By Anne Currin
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Villanelle
Poem
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
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Villanelle
Poem
Through the Winter Cold he Rode
By the moonlight, night's pearly softness glowed,
In their slumber deep, fog skirted knolls shoaled;
Through the winter cold, clickety clack he rode.
Down the twisted alleys and to highroad,
Flew out in wind his fluttering hair gold;
By the moonlight, night's pearly softness glowed.
In the silence bare as the mist bellowed
O'er the turrets enshrouded in their fold;
Through the winter cold, clickety clack he rode.
His shadow tossed on the water that flowed,
As galloped o'er the bridge, ' twixt moorlands old;
By the moonlight, night's pearly softness glowed.
Meet his bonnie lassie her chin furrowed
'neath her cherry lips in his hands to hold;
Through the winter cold, clickety clack he rode.
Her dark eyes under green eaves that mellowed,
Where blushes of their love in whispers told
By the moonlight, night's pearly softness glowed;
Through the winter cold, clickety clack he rode.
``
For the Contest : "Villanelle Me"
Sponsored by Catie Lindsay
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Villanelle
Poem
Lifeless Eyes of Ted Bundy
Lifeless were the eyes of infamous Ted Bundy
No remorse, all emotion had been doused
His gaze pierced my soul as I gave testimony
He maintained there’d been too much publicity
Four coeds attacked in a sorority house
Lifeless were the eyes of infamous Ted Bundy
This demon had the nerve to make a bogus plea
“Move my trial or there’ll be no justice,” he groused
His gaze pierced my soul as I gave testimony
To explain news coverage in Tallahassee
Reporters took the stand, court quiet as a mouse
Lifeless were the eyes of infamous Ted Bundy
I took the stand shaking, did not want him to see me
I was sweating so much, wet stains were on my blouse
His gaze pierced my soul as I gave testimony
It appeared his conscience was totally guilt-free
What kind of excuse could this death machine espouse
Lifeless were the eyes of infamous Ted Bundy
His gaze pierced my soul as I gave testimony
*Entry for Catie’s “Villanelle Me” Contest
Note: Serial Killer Ted Bundy successfully convinced the court he could not get a fair
trial in Tallahassee because there had been too much pre-trial publicity surrounding
his attacks on four Florida State University co-eds in their sorority house. After
Tallahassee reporters were required to testify, Bundy’s trial was moved to South
Florida. Bundy assaulted and murdered at least 30 young women, and possibly
many more, in the states of Washington, Oregon, California, Utah, Idaho, Colorado,
and Florida between 1974 and 1978. After more than a decade of denials he
confessed to 30 homicides, but the true total remains unknown.
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Villanelle
Poem
Date Night (and the day after)
Opening line from "Highway Five Love Poem" by Ruth L. Schwartz
This is a love poem for all the tomatoes
I squished to make our Date-Night spaghetti.
Our love, like the pasta, was shiny. So the story goes.
We sit at our table, between us a rose
Red as the marinara I chose. (He let me).
This is a love poem for all our tomatoes.
We watch the steam, which the mouth quickly blows
Away (like the wind and those petals the day he met me).
Our love, like the pasta, was sticky. So the story goes.
We sip our red wine. Chianti, it has a good nose.
(In the morning, do you think he will regret me?)
This is a love poem. For all our tomatoes
Are gone, just as the wine hides grapes squished by toes
in authentic California vineyards. (You get me?)
Our love, like the pasta, was steamy. So the story goes.
We finish our meal with gestures the other knows.
(I wonder if he'll someday forget me.)
This isn't a love poem for all our tomatoes.
Our love, like our pasta, was al dente. So our story goes.
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Villanelle
Poem
What Lurks Within
Beware the secrets castles keep,
In empty chambers tucked away,
Within your soul they do not sleep.
There, quietly within they creep
Kept hidden from the light of day.
Beware the secrets castles keep.
Lost down behind where conscience weeps
The secrets know they cannot stay.
Within your soul they do not sleep.
Through many walls it slowly seeps
Till when our peace becomes the prey.
Beware the secrets castles keep.
We're warned that what we sow we reap.
At harvest time we'll have to pay.
Within your soul they do not sleep.
Loud echos from within betray
The secret truths that were delayed.
Beware the secrets castles keep.
Within your soul they do not sleep.
Written 3/23/2013
In more of a 19th century form using tetrameter
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Villanelle
Poem
A Plastic Life
As smug and arrogance sleep soundly in their linen beds and dream
Of things to fill their lives, to stop the weekday blues
wreaking havoc on their self-esteem
The poor and needy beg and fight for scraps and at night they scream
in lonely damp doorways, filled with their daily dose of booze
As smug and arrogance sleep soundly in their linen beds and dream.
The workers caught in the rat-trap of life commuting to desks to be seen
As the conscientious guardians preventing the bosses’ P’s and Q’s
wreaking havoc on their self-esteem
The shirkers twist the system around their little fingers and cream
Off the best for themselves with a total disregard for those who lose
As smug and arrogance sleep soundly in their linen beds and dream
The lost and the lonely wander aimlessly through life seeking to redeem
A glimmer of hope trying to retain their dignity while others snooze
wreaking havoc on their self-esteem
As the rest flounder and struggle always swimming upstream
Choking and drowning looking for someone to accuse
As smug and arrogance sleep soundly in their linen beds and dream
Wreaking havoc on their self-esteem.
© 23/3/2013
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Villanelle
Poem
Bewitched
Ageless and amazingly, the nerves sing,
butterflies flutter within the begin
like the bowed tension of a cello’s string.
Let the trailing flow of sweet kisses sting.
Pain so close to passion, adrenaline,
ageless and amazingly, the nerves sing.
Nipping ear and throat so breathtaking,
as we fall and roll on the white bear skin
like the bowed tension of a cello’s string.
Peacock feathers trace the grace amazing,
flames dance high on the walls of the cabin
ageless and amazingly, the nerves sing.
Double backed, we ride through the heat lightning.
in the firelight her eyes are fetchin’
like the bowed tension of a cello’s string.
My wife, my life, my so happy ending,
who but thee could there be so bewitchin’?
Ageless and amazingly, the nerves sing,
like the bowed tension of a cello’s string.
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Villanelle
Poem
A Loving Son
They always said, “Please bother us no more”
when Tommy sang, and Mom would stick her head
inside his room. “We need to shut your door!”
And once he loudly sobbed because he tore
his toy plane, but all his father said
was, “I cannot be bothered any more.”
Another time he fell and felt so sore,
but Mother quickly wiped the spot that bled,
said, “Go to sleep. I’m going to shut the door.”
He learned to neither ask them questions nor
expect attention, for he felt great dread
of hearing their “Please bother us no more.”
One day a young man thought, “What’s living for?
No more tears do I have left to shed. . .
I’d better not forget to shut the door.”
They heard the shot and ran and saw the gore.
Their loving son lay silenced on his bed.
The note read, “I will bother you no more.
Mom and Dad, I remembered to shut the door.”
by Andrea Dietrich
non-winner in a recent contest
now for PD's "any poem you posted this week.... "
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Villanelle
Poem
Hot Day
A steady hum vibrating one constant low
Surrounding me in tiny hummingbird beats
The two giant fans warm and hot breezes blow
The fuzzy sound vibrates on pulsed in it’s drones
All vision blurs dimly in dark shadowed heat
A steady hum vibrating one constant low
The yellow window’s shade drawn down indigo
Gaze at it’s outline, with my hands on my feet
The two giant fans warm and hot breezes blow
My round Papasan chair of plush wicker holds
My languid form as I relax there complete
A steady hum vibrating one constant low
Within the dark, my lap cat’s bright green eyes glow
I’m clothed only in my silhouette’s repeat
The two giant fans warm and hot breezes blow
Reflect in beta waves of calm peace I know
On blue walls, my fairy outline shifts and beats
A steady hum vibrating one constant low
The two giant fans warm and hot breezes blow
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