Villanelle Success Poems | Villanelle Poems About Success

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Details | Villanelle |

CONSUMING FAILURE

Consuming Failure


Pay heed the dancing chickens hot plate feet
lest you believe the music makes him strut
outrunning death by curried peppers sweet

the cooling of the iron his sole treat
keep moving to avoid the final cut
pay heed the dancing chickens hot plate feet

harsh tempo of perfections searing heat
obsession with the ifs, and whens, and buts
outrunning death by curried peppers sweet

performing in the hope of winning seat
an endless line that must remain uncut
pay heed the dancing chickens hot plate feet

there is in heated battle no retreat
for some the dancer’s door will soon slam shut 
outrunning death by curried peppers sweet

accept in simple failure your defeat
perfections long sought peak a muddy rut
pay heed the dancing chickens hot plate feet
outrunning death by curried peppers sweet



6/12/2015

submitted to – Villanelle’s and Terzanelle’s Only – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Shadow Hamilton


Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2015



Details | Villanelle |

Dance Fever

We dance to strains of music for the thrill
for when musicians play we feel the beat.
Great music is a balm for every ill.

Sometimes we dance until we feel the chill
and cringe because of numbness in our feet.
We dance to strains of music for the thrill.

Three times a week we hoof a practice drill.
We must prepare for soon we shall compete.
Great music is a balm for every ill.

Our mated moves require a heap of skill,
to master them makes us appear elite.
We dance to strains of music for the thrill.

Our perfect form could garner us a frill
at Silver Games; to win the Gold is sweet.
Great music is a balm for every ill.

Our troupe performs the dance without a spill
we bring our medals home clutched like a treat.
We dance to strains of music for the thrill.
Great music is a balm for every ill.                                        

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Villanelle |

Mademoiselle

Like Pip from Great Expectations, in love with Estelle,                                   
As much I loved the stars from sky, and your beautiful eyes:             
My good admirer from a mirror, my dear secret belle.                                                           
The wishful thoughts, and hope of a certain lovely mademoiselle: 
My inner song sounds better in your secret chamber, so nice,          
That the leaves of time have really nothing much to tell.           
The wind may blow, sometime you know the leaves fell
Who can you see some sparks when rubbing pieces of ice?
It is a nest of singing birds, where but joy should dwell.
Like you never give anything away, that you can sell,
Some people do act with folly when use as catalyst the dice.
However, some chances are, if you come to know me well. 
But, if you only grasped what you could never get well
Like a playful cat , sharpening her claws, hunting the mice
They cannot live in a cage, where somebody cast her spell.
All those are like words that go together, before a farewell;
Some play that they love, the game is a pretty device:
Because, the perfume is the same, also the secret smell.
However, after they depart, they may happily meet twice.

Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa | Year Posted 2017