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Details | Villanelle Poem | |

Ashen Snow

An innocence we used to know
As morning dourly turns to night
Entombed beneath an ashen snow 

A cell phone yearning for hello
With hopes of answer growing slight
An innocence we used to know

Within a stampede’s torrid flow
Bifocals lost in jostled fright
Entombed beneath an ashen snow 

A playbill from three days ago
Once read with wonder and delight
An innocence we used to know

Pillars raised in commerce glow
Now broken pencils thrown in spite
Entombed beneath an ashen snow 

So many hearts in fervent throes
So many souls in heaven’s sight
An innocence we used to know
Entombed beneath an ashen snow 

Chopped  - Poetry Contest
Including:
Playbill dated 08 Sep 2001
Cell Phone
Broken Pencil
Bifocals

-23 Oct 2014-

Details | 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

Details | 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,  clipp'ty  clop  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,  clipp'ty  clop  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,  clipp'ty  clop  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,  clipp'ty  clop  he  rode.


``
5/23/2011

Details | 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.


Details | 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.

Details | 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 

Details | Villanelle Poem | |

Christmas Snow


On wings of swept sky, the dawn’s sun adorns
the shimmering snow in magical light,
from winter’s first snow on snug Christmas morn.

Innocent faces gleam, old are reborn
as fanciful flakes seem to rise in flight
on wings of swept sky, the dawn’s sun adorns.

Powder settles, softening sharpest thorns
as spring’s flowers sleep beneath drifts of white
from winter’s first snow on snug Christmas morn.

Oh, joyous wonder, no past years to mourn!
The hills and trees sparkle like child’s eyes bright,
on wings of swept sky, the dawn’s sun adorns.

Our gifts are unwrapped, the day’s all but worn
and festive flakes frolic well into night
from winter’s first snow on snug Christmas morn.

Through frosty pane, we watched peaceful day born
with glistening nature’s brilliance in sight. 
On wings of swept sky, the dawn’s sun adorns
from winter’s first snow on snug Christmas morn.


for Gail's Christmas Snow Contest, 11/26/14 


Details | Villanelle Poem | |

Chance Meeting

We met by chance and are happy that we met
For our love is blossoming and getting stronger 
Let us flow in our destiny and let the stage be set

The whole world is against us and doesn't care, I bet
We struggled for love and affection, did anyone bother
We met by chance and are happy that we met

We grabbed the chance happily, let’s not now fret
We need time to get into a rhythm with each other
Let us flow in our destiny and let the stage be set

Chance is an opportunity, a lucky and a brave does get
Let us convert it into love and not more do we rancor
We met by chance and are happy that we met

If united we stood, we could meet with any threat 
The world becomes a friend, enemies remain no longer 
Let us flow in our destiny and let the stage be set

We are certain to succeed, unlike in a game of roulette
Where gamblers risk happiness that depends on another 
We met by chance and are happy that we met
Let us flow in our destiny and let the stage be set


Date: 3.8.2014 
Form: Villanelle

Details | Villanelle Poem | |

Chocolate Fountain

Chocolate Fountain Abuse- for the lover 

How easily I forgot I was allergic to chocolate
I wanted to dip the exquisite kosher in a Spanish brandy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate

At a store window; a dried up chocolate fantasy goblet
A taste of spoiled milk, nothing dandy with this candy
How easily I forgot I was allergic to chocolate

Snickers Bar, melting under the spotlight for profit
Not edible, waging unassertive words like a pansy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate

Chocolate pop, a candy bar coming out of the closet
There was not much bandy, about this candy
How easily I forgot I was allergic to chocolate

Stubby nuts, stomachache, bucket of vomit
Butterflies, flipping when I hear a faucet of cocoa candy
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate

Enrobed with small nuts, it dwells under the pocket
Caramel and peanuts American walnut vigilante
How easily I forgot I was allergic to chocolate
Sweet, sweet, cavity tarnish boxes of chocolate

~Contest~

Details | Villanelle Poem | |

Dungeons of the Soul

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.


Craig Cornish Written 3/23/2013
In more of a 19th century form using tetrameter

Details | Villanelle Poem | |

Birds of Paradise

Birds of paradise bloom and fall like a shooting star, Red ones are juxtaposing lips when wrens are kissing; Brilliantly gliding from huge foliage seen from afar. They marvelously stand and hung on where they are, In kaleidoscope of colors, they’re all glistening; Birds of paradise bloom and fall like a shooting star. Their lasting freshness is a blessing from the altar In orange, yellow, red and purple- they’re all amazing; Brilliantly gliding from huge foliage seen from afar. Their dazzling beauty is the sweetest song that soothes my scar In its various colors, red with yellow is the best hymn I’ll sing Birds of paradise bloom and fall like a shooting star. Ambling along an avenue of those flowers quite so far As if leading into the vista of paradise –the most wonderful feeling Brilliantly gliding from huge foliage seen from afar. Bestowing its enchantment to someone may ward off war Red gears for a blazing love , yellow for unwavering spirit of sharing Birds of paradise bloom and fall like a shooting star Brilliantly gliding from huge foliage seen from afar.
June 30, 2013 10.40pm ©2013by Leonora Galinta All Rights Reserved Fourth Place Contest: Good Poems Judged: 8/8/2013 Sponsor: Great Poet, Nathan A

Details | Villanelle Poem | |

The Wooden Flute Sings

From the mountain's peak; the wooden flutes sound
the lamas leap and the water falls-- clear,
mindful, the wind's play on the Quechua's ground. 

The majesty of the Andes astounds
for from behind the clouds, the peaks reappear.  
From the mountain's peak; the wooden flutes sound.

Like great red-clay dunes or snow capped mounds;
courts rise and fall in terrain, so austere; 
mindful, the winds play on the Quechua's ground. 

Rainbows of red, blue, and gold oft surround
distant ruins of gray stones, now severe 
from the mountain's peak; the wooden flutes sound.

Solid, earth-bound, sun-browned, lost to the hounds,
so, Quechua shepherds bound stairs cavalier--
mindful; the winds play on the Quechua's ground. 

Pachamama's love surrounds without bounds, 
long gone are the conquer's; all life is here,
from the mountain's peak, the wooden flutes sound--
mindful, the winds play on the Quechua's ground. 


* Quechua is one of the native people of Peru
**The Dominican Monks set hounds trained to kill 
on the natives who refused conversion.
*** Pachamama, fertility Godess in Incas Mythos

Details | Villanelle Poem | |

STARRY-EYED


Eyes dazed I stroll and quiver low, enticed
In liquid skyline’s twirl, a slow ballet
to pirouette on fireglows that ignite.
 
The meadow gleaming near as winds invite
An April centerstage that glides away 
eyes dazed I stroll and quiver low, enticed.
 
And high above the robins wheel their plight
Where garland of stars drips as if to play
to pirouette on fireglows that ignite.

Drunk, hungry this breath, so far the height
where scent of dreams, bursts forth in warm display
eyes dazed I stroll and quiver low, enticed

Small twinklers crown my head to wrap and slay 
each heaving sigh embroidering this day,
to pirouette on fireglows that ignite.

As wishful thoughts catch stardust of the night
the firmanent climbs inside earthen clay.
Eyes dazed I stroll and quiver low, enticed
to pirouette on fireglows that ignite.


Giorgio Veneto's Impress Me Contest
by netteonclaud

Details | Villanelle Poem | |

A Broken Heart

I have a broken heart so sad with sorrow,
My love’s full of such anguish and fear;
My soul’s afire with pain for the morrow.

My heart seeks such a palliative yarrow,
My thoughts are shattered, no longer clear;
I have a broken heart so sad with sorrow.

My desire’s gone, a victim of a much harrow,
My emotions are awry and bring no cheer;
My soul’s afire with pain for the morrow.

Your anger strikes my heart like a poison arrow,
Your evil intent revealed with no sugary veneer;
I have a broken heart so sad with sorrow.

I live my life now with no surcease of sorrow,
Your former love declarations ring now so queer;
My soul’s afire with pain for the morrow.

My spirit’s in tatters from your hateful harrow,
And your face now haunts me with a nasty leer;
I have a broken heart so sad with sorrow.
My soul’s afire with pain for the morrow.

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, 
Schoeningen, Germany (November 14, 2014) 
(Villanelle poetic format)

Details | 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.


Details | Villanelle Poem | |

When I Close My Eyes

Night Whispers in my ear, promising sweet

Dreams from another world. My eyes lidded

With wonder of images that aren't complete.



My consciousness blurs, I scrunch up my feet.

Dream realm returns, I enter it timid.

Night whispers in my ear, promising. Sweet



Melodies drift down a rain ridden street.

Colors explode to make the dull gilded.

I wonder of images that aren't complete.



I dream in color that's full of deceit,

My journey confused but benefited

Night. Whispers in my ear, promising sweet



Souls of good fortune. The spell obsolete,

Slips off my mind. The day then comes guilted,

I linger with images that aren't complete.



Startling gold sun begins to reach its peak,

But my mind is in bed, dreaming tinted.

Night whispers in my ear, promising sweet

Wonder of images that now are complete.

Details | Villanelle Poem | |

A Christmas Snow

Bundled in goose down like their feathered friends;
they plump outside for they've no wish to stay in;
they dive in the snow, the mundane to transcend.
 
Boys howl and they whistle and the girls defend
igloos of snow bricks with rosy cheeks and chins,
bundled in goose down like their feathered friends.

Small toddlers fall boom, make angels and pretend
that the snowflakes are food, as their silly faces grin;
they dive in the snow the mundane to transcend.

Snow geese honk and a large flock descends,
roaring with laughter the children rush in,
bundled in goose down like their feathered friends.

Mother lights the Christmas tree on the bend
and Father grabs a scarf and joins the din.
They dive in the snow, the mundane to transcend.

Snowballs zoom, as sisters and brothers contend
even the pooch prances (for of course he is kin).
Bundled in goose down like their feathered friends,
they dive in the snow the mundane to transcend.
 











Details | Villanelle Poem | |

Midnight

When chimes within the midnight hour,
In a frenzied rush of regret,
Casting shadows on the flower.

Revel in the last sun shower,
Lest time should find you owing debt,
When chimes within the midnight hour.

When youthful blush renders sour,
Sweetness of days we oft forget,
Casting shadows on the flower.

Many souls are seen to cower,
As death appears in silhouette,
When chimes within the midnight hour.

The ticking clock gives up power,
A million minutes have been offset,
Casting shadows on the flower.

Laid to rest where worms devour,
but Spirit escapes death's banquette,
When chimes within the midnight hour,
Casting shadows on the flower.


Details | Villanelle Poem | |

CHARIOT OF FIRE a collab with PAUL CALLUS

CHARIOT OF FIRE I stand in silence and behold the sight, staring in wonder, waiting for thunder. A chariot of fire travels through the night. The white-winged horses gallop in full flight pulling at the reins; flowing are their manes I stand in silence and behold the sight. Where are they going? There’s a shining light leading all the way, so they will not stray. A chariot of fire travels through the night amidst the heaven where in pure delight resides the Master, the sweetest lover, I stand in silence and behold the sight; Blessings whisked to amble slowly with plight; heartbeats race to sway, courage on display. A chariot of fire travels through the night armoured by God’s spirit. They ride like knights fearless from pain; victory, their peak gain. I stand in silence and behold the sight; a chariot of fire travels through the night. ©P.A. Callus and O. E. Guillermo Written last 5:07 pm, November 17, 2014

Details | Villanelle Poem | |

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 Poem | |

The Feed

 

(From Lestat, my vampire chronicles poems) Silently the night again by me creeps in... Evoking all these confusing feelings I need to conceal Thoughts and dreams filled of doom, all of sudden begin To change me into this hideous creature I cannot din This thirst for new blood is in me now reveal Silently the night by me creeps in... I live on human blood and that's my curse, my sin Lurking in the shadows to get my next meal Thoughts and dreams filled of doom all of sudden begin All my life dreams had just fade in... Now I'd become this monster I come to repeal Silently the night again by me creeps in... Going for a kill every night again and again Knowing things all the time I cannot reveal Thoughts and dreams filled of doom of sudden begin... I,Louis,doing what I have to, to survive in My life had been sealed with things I have to conceal Silently the night again by me creeps in... Thoughts and dreams filled of doom all of sudden begin... Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 aka ladylove copyright2005 November,30,2014

Details | Villanelle Poem | |

Chariot of Fire: co-written with OE Guillermo

 

     I stand in silence and behold the sight,
     staring in wonder, waiting for thunder.
     A chariot of fire travels through the night.

     The white-winged horses gallop in full flight 	
     pulling at the reins; flowing are their manes.
     I stand in silence and behold the sight.

     Where are they going? There’s a shining light
     leading all the way, so they will not stray.
     A chariot of fire travels through the night
 
     amidst the heaven where in pure delight
     resides the Master, the sweetest lover. 
     I stand in silence and behold the sight.

     Blessings whisked to amble slowly with plight;
     heartbeats race to sway, courage on display.
     A chariot of fire travels through the night.

     Armoured by God’s spirit they ride like knights
     fearless from pain; victory, their peak gain.
     I stand in silence and behold the sight.
     A chariot of fire travels through the night.


--------------------------------------------------------
Collaboration: Paul Callus & Olive Eloisa Guillermo
                       November 2014


Details | 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




Details | 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.”

Details | Villanelle Poem | |

Powerless

I look for your magic in the moonlight
Listening for the secrets you will tell
I wish for you to be my dream tonight

I do not know if it is wrong or right
You leave me powerless under your spell
I look for your magic in the moonlight

Take control of me I do not wish to fight
You even mesmorize me with your smell 
I wish for you to be my dream tonight

I wish to fly on your string like a kite
Tethered to you I am secure and well
I look for your magic in the moonlight

So I travel with you into the night
Nothing compares to the stories you tell
I wish for you to be my dream tonight

You my lover with your eyes shining bright
You lifted me up whenever I fell
I look for your magic in the moonlight
I wish for you to be my dream tonight

Anne's favorite poetry form contest.
Be gentle Anne it is my first time trying this form.