Poetry exercise: writing a villanelle

FinsburyParkCarrots

burtschips wrote:

The Dune

As grains of sand form dunes,
blown from shore to shore,
a bone dry smoothness blooms.

Still trails dance over crescent moons
to a sun beat silent score.
As grains of sand form dunes

The wind sculpts to a whistled tune,
above whispered exchanges of folklore.
A bone dry smoothness blooms.

But, should wind leave too soon,
the dune will lie unsure.
As grains of sand form dunes.

In time, the journey will resume.
A sea is seen once more!
A bone dry smoothness blooms.

Wonder. To cross as a seabird's plume
or to return to its first shore?
A bone dry smoothness blooms,
as grains of sand form dunes.


To hell with the villanelle, for a while at least.

This is a fine piece. What striking imagery! A blooming, bone dry smoothness. Well done indeed.

Kwyjibo

Here's my revision, I took some of fins advice, and I would like some more. Do you think endstopping every line(but 1) makes it too slow?
Revision:


I'm shaking off the shakes again,
with a Black hair from a Velvet dog.
Swimming with the combination spins.

A Crystal haze over a Palace river of gin,
covered with the pine trees--lost in fog.
I'm shaking off the shakes again.

The fifth day straight with Russian kings.
True potato flavor for this Irish slob.
Swimming with the combination spins.

Southern jail with worms if I win.
Slurping blue agave from a trough.
I'm shaking off the shakes again.

The desperate Captain orders the plank in
spite of the witless captive's sobs.
Swimming with the combination spins.

All along she was just some illusion.
Hope for her cure was the only shot.
So now I'm giving in to the shakes again.
I'm giving in to contemplation's spins.

---

Here's one for nast with all the I's removed :

Shaking off the shakes again,
with a Black hair from a Velvet dog.
Swimming with the combination spins.

A Crystal haze over a Palace river of gin,
covered with the pine trees--lost in fog.
Shaking off the shakes again.

The fifth day straight with Russian kings.
True potato flavor for the Irish slob.
Swimming with the combination spins.

Southern jail with worms if one wins.
Slurping blue agave from a trough.
Shaking off the shakes again.

The desperate Captain orders the plank in
spite of the witless captive's sobs.
Swimming with the combination spins.

All along she was just some illusion.
Hope for her cure was the only shot.
Giving in to the shakes again.
Giving in to contemplation's spins.

Ali

THE PARADE
He walked with me in circles of grace
Though pain ensued-
He never lost his place.

The parade was long,quite a bore
We drank some beer-
Walked through an open door.

The door was tall and lean,
He squoze through-
The bar was immaculately clean.

We bumped into the crew
And drank and drank-
What more could we do?

The women and men came and went
clinging onto us all-
All we could do was vent.

"Let's get the hell out of here!"
"I feel like a whore!"
He drank his beer
We left the parade...with nothing to fear.

---

Does it go something like that?aba aba aba aba aba abaa?
Very nice.Ingenious Finns...good call.

Kwyjibo

nice poem Ali, but not a villanelle

Ali

Well...a girl can try....it is aba aba aba aba aba abaa...isn't it?

Ali

I'm never trying again!!!!!!!Until Sunday Y'all...I'm going to the shore to write regular prose that I can't screw up!!!!!!!!!!

burtschips

Ali wrote:

I'm never trying again!!!!!!!Until Sunday Y'all...I'm going to the shore to write regular prose that I can't screw up!!!!!!!!!!

I screw up on it constantly, infact the only way I got the last one right was by re-reading correct ones posted earlier.

olderman

A famous Villanelle written by Dylan Thomas -


Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night,

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night,

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Kwyjibo

Ali wrote:

Well...a girl can try....it is aba aba aba aba aba abaa...isn't it?

the a's and b's all have to be the same rhyme.
it's kind of hard to explain.

it goes

blah blah blah blah red
something something dog
blah blah blah blah fred

blah blah blah blah dead
something something log
blah blah blah blah red

blah blah blah blah head
something something fog
blah blah blah blah fred

and so on. The first and last lines of the first stanza act as a refrain. In the second stanza, you end with the first line of the first stanza. in the 2nd stanza, you end with the last line of the first stanza and then alternate.

olderman

Kwyjibo wrote:

blah blah blah blah red
something something dog
blah blah blah blah fred

blah blah blah blah dead
something something log
blah blah blah blah red

blah blah blah blah head
something something fog
blah blah blah blah fred

you may not have meant this to be funny, however, LMAO!

Kwyjibo

haha

maybe I'll just turn that in to class for my villanelle!
ha

burtschips

olderman wrote:

A famous Villanelle written by Dylan Thomas -


Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night,

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night,

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

That's the best I've seen yet, or at least my favourite so far.

Ali

If I could find the shade or hue,
It wouldn't be pink,
It would be blue.

If I could whisper out my love for you,
It would not be mistaken,
It would not be askew.

If I could paint you a dream or two,
It wouldn't be a thousand words,
It would be quite a few.

If I could touch the budding dew,
It would not be beyond you,
It would not be out of view.

If I could be an actress without a cue,
It wouldn't be so subtle a loss,
It would be worse without you.

If I could profess my love for you,
Then I wouldn't feel so lonely,
It wouldn't be the same to woo,
And I wouldn't feel for you the love I always knew.


ADV 4-12-05 12:41am

Ali

Okay except i have one stanza where all three lines rhyme...does that still count?OHHH>>THe mathmatics of poetry turn me on!

Kwyjibo

the point of a villanelle isn't to rhyme

its to actually repeat the same line again. Look at the other examples.

Ali

Kwyjibo wrote:

the point of a villanelle isn't to rhyme

its to actually repeat the same line again. Look at the other examples.

Thtas it Kwyjibo...I quit.I like my poem.I'm publishing it.Forget the villanelles.
I get it..but it seems so gitchy with the repetition if I were to put it in my poem.I dont know...maybe I'll try it some other time.I quit.I've craeted my own style of villanelle!
Thanks.:)