Villanelle 8 (And Corrections)

Happy New Year.

The holidays are always such a whirlwind and this year was no exception. As you can see from my previous entries, I managed only one villanelle during that period. And if you look closely, I did it wrong. My previous villanelle has seven as opposed to six verses. I never noticed as I wrote it, nor as I transposed it into the blog. I only noticed it when I completed today's villanelle.

That was also when I noticed I'd mislabeled the last one as number eight, when it was in fact only number seven!

While the holidays and many other factors certainly contributed to the double-error of my last villanelle, the complexity of the form and the level of concentration required before during (and it would seem after) its composition played a bigger role. All of this by way of saying that I've elected to end this first exploration into the villanelle for now. It's only eight, I realize, but believe me, eight villanelle takes the time, thought, creative energy and concentration of many more poems of other forms. I still like them, and there is a certain fun in going through the sometimes mind-wracking process of this form. But seeing as how slow my composition rate had become since switching to villanelle, I wanted to move on to something else, here in this New Year. Something fun, but less complicated. I don't know what I'll go with next, but rest assured it will be something I can produce with less time commitment than a villanelle. Hopefully by the time I enter my second exploration of this fascinating form, whenever that may be, I'll be able to produce more. Until then, do enjoy this final villanelle for now, structured properly and everything.

*

And so begins a time of peace.
A time to seek a comfort in my soul.
My worst anxieties will cease.

Like philosophers in Ancient Greece
I'll make excellence and piety my goal.
And so begins a time of peace.

All my anger I now release.
And walk into Light, though stumbling like a foal.
My worst anxieties will cease.

This human life we do but lease,
Our temporary nature is the toll.
And so begins a time of peace.

Henceforth, while on this Earth, my joys increase.
No more lay I, lazy on a knoll.
My worst anxieties will cease.

Likewise, regrets and fear decrease.
The wonders of this life I shall extol.
And so begins a time of peace.
My worst anxieties shall cease.

Villanelle 7

Finally, after quite the hiatus, I'm back with another villanelle! My apologies for the delay. But as I have said villanelles require a lot of thought and concentration, even for someone used to writing poetry, such as myself. So much concentration in fact that during this exploration I have had to alter my entire poem-writing process, which has remained essentially unchanged throughout my life. The results have been satisfactory to me, but they are quite time consuming to get started. (Though Nanowrimo, as well as the holidays have contributed somewhat to the delay this time I have to say.)

I had hoped to write at least ten villanelles during this exploration. That may still happen, if I put my nose more to the grindstone, but the grindstone is not the point of this poetry experiment. The point is to find out a few things about myself, my poetry, and to see what sort of forms speak to me most. While I enjoy the villanelle challenge quite a bit, I'm not sure that working on two more is in my best interest for this go around. I don't want it to become work, after all.

Then again, it is only two more, and I've taken a break from most other creative writing for the rest of the year. So who knows? Right now, not even I.

I do know, however, that it's time to post this most recent villanelle. It's hot off of the pencil. It didn't take the turn I thought it would when I first conceived the refrains, but I like the quaint, almost folksy eloquence of the poem.

*

I'll get to where I need to go.
I'll listen to what my heart will say.
I'll discover all I need to know.

Learning lessons from both friend and foe.
Preparing for tomorrow with today.
I'll get to where I need to go.

Often, what we reap is what we sew.
I shall begin to sew without delay.
I'll discover all I need to know.

Who am I to answer "no"
When destiny itself shows me the way?
I'll get to where I need to go.

Therefore, my worries I will stow.
I'll take this journey, come what may.
I'll discover all I need to know.

"Grant strength to creatures here below,"
To heaven every night I'll say.
I'll get to where I need to go.

And if the gods on me bestow
That single thing for which I pray,
I'll get to where I need to go.
I'll discover all I need to know.

Villanelle 6

I must apologize for being away from the poetry posting for nearly a month. Other writing missions have eclipsed the poetry aspects of my writing lately. Plus villanelles are very time and energy consuming. I need to set aside specific, uninterrupted time to compose these poems. Even more so than the sonnets, I think. A villanelle is not the sort of poem one can simply whip up while waiting for dinner to cool.

Indeed, exploring the villanelle has caused me to depart somewhat from a longstanding custom I have of starting and finishing each of my poems all in one sitting. Believe it or not, that has been what I have done for 99% of my poems, but with these I've found it easier to come up with the refrain first, and then come back to fill in the refrain with verses later. In this last case, quite a bit of time passed between developing the refrain key and composing the poem itself. (I still compose the body of the poem all in one sitting, however.)

Time got away from me, but now I am caught up to this latest villanelle, and I present it here at last.

*

For a moment I can see her still.
(Though I never hear her speak.)
She was more to me than just a passing thrill.

I'm swallowing a bitter pill.
Prospects of her coming back are bleak.
For a moment I can see her still.

It was mostly physical until,
She let me see her weep when she was weak.
She was more to me than just a passing thrill.

But she had longings I could not fulfill.
I am an average man. She is unique.
For a moment I can see her still.

Most men who look like me would kill
To move their hands across her form-so sleek.
She was more to me than just a passing thrill.

I simply couldn't summon up the will
To leave my peaceful valley for her peak.
For a moment I can see her still.
She was more to me than just a passing thrill.

Villanelle 5

For my fifth villanelle in this exploration, I went darker, or at least angrier. Again, I've been free with my meter.

The repetitive nature of the alternating refrains of the villanelle do, as I have mention previously, lend themselves to obsession, or fevered memory. In this piece I wanted to utilize that refraining style to illicit thoughts of anger, (in this case over a damaged relationship of some kind). We tend to be repetitive when we fight, or when we are angry about something, and we tend to emphasize the things that have angered or hurt us the most, sometimes to the exclusion of other, more productive thoughts.

Who is at fault within the relationship on which this poem is based? I'll let you decide.

*

I refuse to take the blame,
(Though I'm the one you will indict.)
I always lose this stupid game.

I think that it's a crying shame;
You never think I could be right.
I refuse to take the blame.

For years and years it's been the same;
No longer will I choose to fight.
I always lose this stupid game.

I wonder when exactly you became
So cold. So angry. So full of spite.
I refuse to take the blame.

Your bitter, raging heart, I've tried to tame,
But you won't accept the light.
I always lose this stupid game.

Well, I shall never speak your name!
Remain here in your manufactured night!
I refuse to take the blame!
I always lose this stupid game.

Villanelle 4

For this, my fourth villanelle of this exploration, I have once again been loose with the meter of any given line. I am finding that the form offers much more depth of feeling when it isn't limited to iambic pentameter and other specified meters. It's becoming clear to me that the potency of this form lies almost completely in the rhyme scheme and the refrain structure, and not in the meter itself, so I'm likely from here on out to write lines in a more free-metre.

All that being said, I think this poem is my best villanelle so far in this exploration. I made an effort to step outside of the usual rhymes. (The same sounds tend to show up in most villanelles I write for some reason.) I think I've achieved something that is both emotionally resonant but also familiar and coherent. You be the judge for yourself.

*

There's still a voice that I can hear,
A memory that won't escape detection.
When I feel pleasure, pain is near.

A haunting. Not so loud, but clear.
A love not gone despite its imperfection.
There's still a voice that I can hear.

The people and the things I once held dear
Remain in pieces in my heart's collection.
When I feel pleasure, pain is near.

Like black mud stains to bright white robes adhere,
So to the soul a lost love's recollection.
There's still a voice that I can hear.

Though numbed a little more each passing year,
Some fits of pain remain, like an infection.
When I feel pleasure, pain is near.

My present and my future course, I steer.
But there's a periodic interjection;
There's still a voice that I can hear.
When I feel pleasure, pain is near.

Villanelle 3

For this piece I have held on to the traditional rhyme scheme that makes this form so unique. But I have allowed myself more free reign with the meter. No specific syllable count and such for this one.

As I mentioned in previous posts, the villanelle tends to lend itself well toward obsessive thoughts, and obsessive thoughts in turn trend somewhat dark or melancholy, at least in this context. That being said, I'm a bit surprised at how brooding and somewhat depressing my villanelle have been so far. Is it me as a poet, or does the scheme truly, by its nature tend to direct one towards darker narratives?

Think on that as you read my latest.

*

My heart is hidden by a kind of smoke.
I pray that smoke is taken by a breeze.
I fear the better part of me will choke.

There are happy memories I could invoke.
I could extract some joy from anywhere I please.
My heart is hidden by a kind of smoke.

Today my spirit's voice is but a croak.
The songs within my heart are but a wheeze.
I fear the better part of me will choke.

My intellect stands solid, like an oak.
Analysis of facts, I perform with ease.
My heart is hidden by a kind of smoke.

I whistle and I smile at a joke.
(I'm not completely lost to things like these.)
I fear the better part of me will choke.

I hope at least it hasn't broke.
That someone out there holds the keys.
My heart is hidden by a kind of smoke.
I fear the better part of me will choke.

Villanelle 2

Here is my second villanelle. This time a more depressing tone. I was hoping to capture the obsessive thoughts nature that many people have associated with the form.

This time I use iambic pentameter. I'm satisfied with the results, though there are some weaker spots. I think I've done better with rhyme in this one than the last, though.

*

The ones who do not live in fear are blessed.

They live in paradises they design.

My trembling spirit never gets to rest.

To know the swell of courage in my breast...

And never to my cowardice resign.

The ones who do not live in fear are blessed.

So many dark, depressing thoughts molest

This tortured, tired, tender heart of mine.

My trembling spirit never gets to rest.

Despite the many times I have confessed,

I'm granted no relief by the Divine.

The ones who do not live in fear are blessed.

And now with doom I find myself obsessed.

I find my very life force in decline.

My trembling spirit never gets to rest.

I wonder what the brave ones would suggest.

Can nothing in my life be anodyne?

The ones who do not live in fear are blessed.

My trembling spirit never gets to rest.

Villanelle 1

After skipping last week, I return this week with the first example of the next poetry form I will be exploring: the villanelle.

The villanelle is a complex piece with which even masters of language have struggled. French in origin, (starting, according to some scholars as early as the 1600's) the form nevertheless failed to gain popularity in France, so few are written in French. Most are in fact written in English, and they began appearing regularly in the 18th century in that language.

Because the form was based on pastoral songs that were intended to be sung centuries ago, pastoral themes were common for villanelles at first. Yet from what I can gather, that theme has been largely abandoned in the English version of these verses. But do to the refrains, and the shortness of the form, many have concluded that a certain obsession with the subject matter is appropriate to the form.

One holdover from the form's roots as a song is the unique refrain structure. The first of five three-line stanzas begin and end with lines from the refrain. Each subsequent three line stanza ends with the first refrain, and then the second, alternating. The final stanza is a four lines, ending with a couplet which is a combination of the two refrains. The rhyme scheme itself, being something like A1-B-A2  A-B-A1  A-B-A2  A-B-A1 A-B-A2  A-B-A1-A2.

Even sounds complicated, doesn't it? I will say though that in practice it is easier to follow these rules than it is to explain them. No doubt it will be easier to follow once you read my sample. Or you can read what is argyably the most famous example of this form in English- "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night", by Dylan Thomas.

Thomas uses iambic pentameter in that piece. Iambic octometer is also used, and that is what I have tried to utilize in my first sample below. However, I've been reading several articles about the villanelle in the two weeks since I last posted here, and from all I can tell there is not now, nor was there ever a definitive rule for the length of the actual lines. Some say eight feet, some say ten. Some articles come out and claim that line length has never mattered. In other words, unlike haiku, there is not "purest" form that I can find for the villanelle in regards to meter of the individual lines. So I will be exploring various meters, with no particular order or consideration. Any given villanelle may have lines of eight feet. Some may have ten. Some will ignore line length entirely. I will, in short confine myself to the rhyme scheme and refrain. (That should be enough to keep my hands full most of the time.)

I also read that slight variations in the refrain are encouraged. I may engage in that at times, if the piece can be made better by it. Yet to me, the very purpose of a refrain is to keep is the same, and I will try to keep my refrains identical.

What follows, I kept to iambic octometer, probably because that is the meter of the first villanelle I happened to study for this exploration took on. This is not my first ever villanelle. I wrote one once, long ago, that looking back seems to have had some kind of different structure than what I have described. I will have to dig that one out and have a look again.

But for now, here is the first in this exploration. Octometer proved tricky, but I think it works here. I don't however think I will pursue it again, unless two excellent phrases that fit it should arise in my imagination.

*

Retain forever thoughts of me.
Think fondly of me every day.
I'll love you for eternity.

See what others will not see.
Do not turn your face away.
Retain, forever, thoughts of me.

Remember when I brought you glee,
And when one night you heard me say
"I'll love you for eternity."

Defy what others would decree;
"Avoid him. You must stay away."
Retain, forever, thoughts of me.

There is but one reality.
Advice from others holds no sway.
I'll love you for eternity.

My thoughts in perpetuity
Return to you in every way.
Retain, forever, thoughts of me.
I'll love you for eternity.