Sports Villanelle Poems | Examples

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


Premium MemberRiver Runners

Mist creeps upward from the valley below,
As morning chill in the air settles down
New River rages ‘neath a dense foggy flow.

First rafts set off the launch, a “heave ho!”
Tourists watching, some frightened, frown
Mist creeps upward from the valley below.

Younger, experienced rafters love the show
River rapid’s tour guides put on the clown
New River rages ‘neath a dense foggy flow.

The first stretch of the run is rather shallow,
Little chance of the canoe running aground
Mist creeps upward from the valley below.

Soon spying the Class Three rapids, a bellow
But squealing first-timers drown out sound,
New River rages ‘neath a dense foggy flow.

Hours later elated runners will tip the fellow
Reaching the shore and their land legs found
Mist creeps upward from the valley below
New River rages ‘neath a dense foggy flow. 

Written June 15, 2022


Premium MemberThose High School Years

I remember those high school years
When being popular was so important,
I tried so hard to fit in with my peers.

Each grade was like changing gears
Readjusting to teachers was torment,
I remember those high school years.

I spent lots of time in laughter and tears
Some years wondering what it all meant,
I tried so hard to fit in with my peers.

Freshman year was rampant with fears,
Hoping the dean’s office never to be sent
I remember those high school years.

All through the sports’ jocks nasty sneers
I was a band boy carrying my instrument,
I tried so hard to fit in with my peers.

I think I may have even tried a few beers
Some credence with the guys that lent,
I remember those high school years
I tried so hard to fit in with my peers.

Written April 3, 2022

Premium MemberA Villain, Nfl

You never meant anything to me anyway.
If I twist my wrist and thrust it down,
I flick my hips and slip away.

If I smash my forearm into your grill,
this is how I get my thrill.
You never meant anything to me anyway.

I am just a player, playing for fun.
But when I begin to play for money,
I flick my hips and slip away.

Sometimes, brutality and reality collide.
Brothers and players stand side by side.
You never meant anything to me anyway.

Well-off fans and super-rich owners,
to the players, are nothing but donors.
I flick my hips and slip away.

The players always give their all,
but always are expendable.
You never meant anything to me anyway.
I flick my hips and slip away.

Premium MemberOctober, When the Leaves Intensify

October, when the leaves intensify -
colored explosions: orange, yellow, red,
breezes to temper summer's heat draw nigh.

There's one last month of days with lightened sky
before our Daylight Saving goes to bed;
October, when the leaves intensify.

A campsite will my kinfolk occupy,
by hot bonfire we'll sing and break the bread,
breezes to temper summer's heat draw nigh.

So many sports events to satisfy
this fan: World Series appetites are fed,
October, when the leaves intensify.

The crisp night air, hot chocolate, pumpkin pie,
warm sweaters, gloves, and scarves become widespread,
Breezes to temper summer's heat draw nigh.

Sweet treats for trick-or-treaters who stop by,
the pirates, princesses, and walking dead.
October, when the leaves intensify;
Breezes to temper summer's heat draw nigh.

Written 12 July 2020
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.

Kelp's Interveiw With the Bigsky

"LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING 
mR. MICROPHONE MAN!
I'M THE BEST THING TO COME ALONG
SINCE THE FULL NELSON
I AM THE BEST THING
TO COME ALONG SINCE
WRESTLING BOOTS
YOU PEOPLE NEED TO RECOGNIZE
CHAMPIONSHIP MATERIAL WHEN YOU SE IT.
THE CHAMPIONSHIP COMMITY WHATS TO FILL SEATS
I FILL SEATS SOMETIME
THAT IDOITS IN THE CHEAPSEATS
GET'S THE CHEERS STARTED
AND THE BUMPLING FOOLS IN THE FRONT ROW
STAND IN AWE OF ME
THEY KNOW I'M THE BEST
THEY BOO AND CHEER ME
BECAUSE I AM THE BEST
THE JERK'S ON THE COMMITY NEED TO RECOGNIZE
WHAT'S RIGHTS FOR ME IS RIGHT
FOR WRESTLING
AND THATS AINT FOOLS GOLD
THA'S THE REAL THING MR. MICROPHONE STAND
(PAUSING)
WHAAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?
SEE SOMETHING YOU LIKE?
TELL YOU WHAT IT IS... I OOZE GREATNESS
IT BECOMES ME
THAT TINGLE YOUR HAVING IS CAUSE YOU'RE
FACE TO FACE WITH
SOMETHING SPECAIL.
THAT KETTLER IS GONNA REALIZE WHY THEY PAY ME THE BIG BUCKS,
AND THE CHAMPIONSHIP COMMITY
WILL COME KNOCKING ON MY DOOR
I'M GONNA ANWSER
AND WHEN I DO:
I'M GONNA TELL EM.
THE FIRST ONE IN GET'S OFF HIS KNEES LAST
AND THAT YOU CAN TELL YOUR MOMA!"


Premium MemberVillanelle: Do Spun Balls Eddy In Black Hole Corsets

Villanelle: Do spun balls eddy through Black Hole corsets

Do spun balls eddy through Black Hole corsets
   Or cosmic spins pierce through armoured shells
Who threads sheltered yards in safe space rockets

Make the side win hoards of precious nuggets
   Rousing Super Bowl far-flung galaxy yells
Do spun balls eddy through Black Hole corsets

Elsewhere rugger lads break through pelting belts
   Asteroid storms of bare bones and muscles
Who threads sheltered yards in safe space rockets

Watch how rugby touch-downs pile-up sweats
   Barely kissing ground hugged balls crushed in smells
Do spun balls eddy through Black Hole corsets

Rugbymen fall for foes during somersaults
   Some even take home loads of their scented cells
Who threads sheltered yards in safe space rockets

O! Lord of the Nations! Let fear nor threats
   Keep you from flexing wills with alien spells
Do spun balls eddy through Black Hole corsets
Who threads sheltered yards in safe space rockets

©  T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

Premium MemberVillanelle: the Dilemma of the Non-Violent - 38

Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent- 38

More the man-made gods the more the quarrel
Who wants to pray in a private night-club
Each faithful thinks his god’s beyond riddle

Where faithfuls gather their gods aren’t idle
Rather would they arm theirs to teeth with club
More the man-made gods the more the quarrel

Strange each nation sports some god from cradle
Nations want exclusive membership club
Each faithful thinks his god’s beyond riddle

All nations dream holding World by bridle
So they give their gods the fossil fumes rub
More the man-made gods the more the quarrel

When words from gods one another needle
Do they hesitate to reach for the club
Each faithful thinks his god’s beyond riddle

Now that gods got our Earth in a throttle
Will ONLY GOD intervene: that’s the rub
More the man-made gods the more the quarrel
Each faithful thinks his god’s beyond riddle

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2015
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

A Smile Cast

Gentle acts of kindness change the path of man
spirals sing of virtue unwritten laws and games
rage rage against the bitter twisted lives

A smile cast on winters day reveals warmer songs
a mothers touch a sons remorse the winter lingers on
gentle acts of kindness change the path of man

The bitter past with bridges built can teach a broken man
with strength he learns to listen and build a better plan
rage rage against the bitter twisted lives

With help and education the angers gone my friend
a winters day is broken with a Milo and a friend
gentle acts of kindness can change the path of man

We walk along a summers beach enjoy the plays we planned
we drink and watch the sports relax the futures in our hands
rage rage against the bitter twisted lives 

With friendship we build lives to live and summer dreams to share
with friendship we build roads to walk and knowledge gets us there 
Gentle acts of kindness change the path of man
rage rage against the bitter twisted lives.

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