Villanelle Poems | Villanelle Examples

The world is bleeding; anyone can see. Red with blood it is indeed. Oh, when from pain will we all be free? A sickness infects the bourgeoisie while we suffer from callous leaders’ greed. The world is bleeding; anyone can see. You can’t disguise wealth’s stench with sweet potpourri when slaves to poverty are mired in their need. Oh, when from pain will...

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Soft heart can tell the silent dark sky's heat, Red eyes might grow tough to handle mettle... That Is how small the mind could be to beat. Finger might flip up hints to pure deceit, Somewhat so close to Cain's stunt on Abel; Soft heart can tell the silent dark sky's heat. Alcohol could have actualised such treat, Upon rage within, ever...

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We Wear The Mask by Paul Laurence Dunbar After poem by Olabosoye Wemimo Olaoluwa Love of our land's labour should make us proud; The efforts, time, and energy put through... Well enough to place our pride clear as vowed. But we wear the mask of pain we don't plowed, When slavery is to labourers in blue... Love of our land's labour...

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Peace holds trouble at woman's subtle cheek: Pale, inviting and warm enough to kiss Attentively with regards, seeming freak. Shielded close to her open lips, eyes seek Patiently... so moment goes not amiss, Peace holds trouble at woman's subtle cheek. On top her chest's fountain lies tips so meek, Choice could travel its miles without a hiss, Attentively with regards, seeming freak. Labelling tricks...

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It rhymed “desire” with “funeral pyre,” and closed with “...thus, I stand redeemed.” The judge said, “Odd—no space, all fire.” Each line marched out like neat attire, iambs in rows, a formal dream— it rhymed “desire” with “funeral pyre.” An echo here, a fractured lyre, a sunset soaked in self-esteem … The judge said, “Odd—no space, all fire.” The...

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the winter blues has a grip on me, all so tight Its icy tentacles wrap around me and squeezes freezing my fingers and toes with its nasty frostbite staving off the cold is a battle, an endless fight it brings forth an assortment of nasty...

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The path is lost where wild winds press, No compass holds beneath the sky— We walk alone through wilderness. The thorns of time, the weight of stress, The silent trees that do not lie— The path is lost where wild winds press. Regret is thick, and hope grows less, Yet still we look, and still...

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Thee crumbling walls can’t hear my song, Though once they rang with joy and cries— Now silence stays the whole day long. My sisters’ love, both soft and strong, Lit up the dusk like fireflies. The crumbling walls can’t hear my song. My brothers helped me along, With quiet nods and whispered wise— Now silence...

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The canvas waits beneath a tempered blade. A pale silver knife, not forged for war, I wield. I paint the silence that the wounds betrayed. The sky lies torn in strokes of celeste shade, each slash more raw, no truth left unrevealed— the canvas waits beneath a tempered blade. No brush can bruise the dark the way I’ve flayed these hues loose,...

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Passions arise as love's heart does take flight, crimson rays born at the end of the day, dreams are awoken within Luna's light. In passion's dream, we are lost in the night, glory abiding in love's special way, desires arise as love's heart does take flight. Luna, in passion, is shining so bright, beginning to turn the night silver grey, dreams do...

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A pirate’s pile of untouched treasure, that’s said to belong to One-eyed Willy. It’s never been found, no not ever. The map shows we have to be clever, don’t you realize what you could see? A pirate’s pile of untouched treasure. Family ties we must briefly sever in order to truly become a Goonie. It’s never been found, no not ever....

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A new poem is sent into the web, Your hopeful words await the judging eye. The digital tide starts to flow and ebb. Across the globe, fresh verses now embed, Where dreams of fame can softly rise or die. A new poem is sent into the web. Each line considered is carefully fed, Beneath the...

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Jam First then cream, Scone not scone Fulfill that elusive dream. “Its not ideal” I often scream But its something that people often moan Jam first then cream And yet to the heaven as they careen To hear the folk who often drone Fulfill that elusive dream How people with their teas preen And how the others should atone Jam first then cream. Surrender your Englishness become...

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These stairs have wept a million tears walking from parking lot to hospital room Hearts travel them, to meet their worst fears Through shadows and shame, past years Blessed by the memoires who consume These stairs have wept a million tears With the music of a soul ringing in my ears There’s more love and grace than gloom Hearts travel them, to meet...

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It would be a pure adrenaline freedom thrill to fly. Flight motion is a dreamy adventure I would savor. How excited I would be to Peter Pan the sky. I feel certain the atmosphere would gladly comply. Granting me ascent would be a most splendid favor. It would be a pure adrenaline freedom thrill to fly. Passing birds would wonder...

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