POETIC BLOOMINGS

POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.

INFORM POETS – VILLONNET

The Villonnet was created by D. Allen Jenkins.

A Villonnet is a hybrid of the Villanelle and the Sonnet.   It has the Iambic Pentameter of both, but holds the four-stanza/line structure of the sonnet, while utilizing the two-line rhyme nature of the villanelle. The final stanza replaces the sonnet couplet with a typical villanelle tercet.

WALT’S VILLONNET:

MEDICAL INCONVENIENCE

Another bout of illness I must deal,
an inconvenient ailment for sure.
A sudden droop of facial malcontent,
another course of chemicals to heal.

The slur, though not pronounced is very real,
the left eye sags as if it were asleep.
The numbness in the arm, it does annoy,
another bout of illness I must deal.

A “mini” episode, it bears that seal,
a precursor to more destructive things.
A Transient Ischemia Assault,
another set of symptoms to reveal.

Another bout of illness I must deal,
existence always comes at quite the cost,
another course of chemicals to heal.

(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2014

 

*** In the category of “shameless plug” I had announced recently that my first full poetry collection is now available. Entitled “DEAD POET… Once Removed”, it searches through various stages of life with all that you’ve come to expect from my work. And I am looking for feedback (positive or otherwise) which may end up on the rear cover of my next Volume. Follow the link below (book cover) for more information and a quick look!

index

Thanks for your inspiration and support!

~Walt

 

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27 thoughts on “INFORM POETS – VILLONNET

  1. Oh, Walt, if this is autobiographical, I send my prayers…

  2. Adding my prayers to Hen’s…
    (“Where two or three are gathered…”) ❤

  3. I’m joining the prayer chain. There is power in numbers.

  4. William Preston on said:

    I am not a praying person, but your poem places you in my thoughts, if indeed this is autobiographical. I hope all is, or will be, well. Is your book available through any means otehr than Amazon?

  5. Darlene Franklin on said:

    Prayers and congrats together.

  6. Dreams of our Persian Kitten

    Blue-eyed kitty, with fur of white
    You look at us with mocking eyes
    Are you pretending to be wise
    And able to see in darkest night!

    I who with my mortal claim
    Taught you to come at my every call
    Though you quickly understood not all
    The results of my summons might be the same.

    You with your exotic name
    Still dreaming of the caliph’s tower
    The silken robes that formed your bower
    A life of luxury and fame…

    Today you are content to take a nap
    On a warm and loving human lap
    And a food-bowl filled four times a day.

  7. Poor Walt – I hope the TIA doesn’t recur. You’ve given us an excellent example of the villanet. The form is one to try later. OctPoWriMo and a Future Learn course are all I can cope with at the moment.
    Love,
    ViV

  8. Marjory MT on said:

    There are symptoms there that remind me of what a Stroke would do…..
    Holding you up in prayer that answers and solutions will be found.

  9. Bitter-sweet, this post…I hold you in my prayers and hope that you’ll be well soon with no recurrences.

    I’m so proud of you to see this amazing collection, Walt…living and breathing, such an accomplishment, truly.

    Warm smiles and wishes for wellness and continued success with your endeavors. 🙂

  10. connielpeters on said:

    The Mountain Pass

    The fierce winds blew the snow across the road
    The posts along the way, her only guide
    Her windshield cracked that morning at the side
    Beneath the empty air, the river flowed

    She carefully ascended up the pass
    She thought of her two children in the back
    For them she must continue on the track
    Her reverie, for certain, didn’t last

    The snow and wind blasts whittled on her nerves
    Her life before just seemed to fade away
    She pictured her car plunging in the gray
    As she prevailed upon the mountain curves

    The fierce winds blew the snow across the road
    The hungry mountain pass had been denied
    Beneath the empty air, the river flowed

  11. THE FIRST AND THE LAST

    The last will sweat to make it through the gate.
    The first are sure that when the end draws near,
    There’ll be no need for them to cut a deal.
    They will not on long lines be forced to wait,

    For they expect that heaven is their fate.
    But Jesus said, “The first will be the last,
    The last, the first.” which brings a brand new spin.
    The last will sweat to make it through the gate.

    The first on earth can easily fill their plate.
    The earthly last have gone without the bread,
    But try their best to shun the lures of sin.
    They will not on long lines be forced to wait.

    The last will sweat to make it through the gate.
    The truly first have mansions in God’s Land.
    They will not on long lines be forced to wait.

    #

  12. THE POET’S PLIGHT

    Before each prompt, I quietly inhale
    to clear my head and focus on the need
    to build a written puzzle from my mind
    but even so, my words will sometimes fail.

    I worry that my thoughts will somehow pale
    when writing what my heart would like to say.
    To overcome debilitating fear
    before each prompt, I quietly inhale.

    It’s difficult maneuvering this trail
    to find a way to perfectly release
    the images held captive in my brain
    but even so, my words will sometimes fail.

    Before each prompt, I quietly inhale
    and pray my muses haven’t yet escaped
    but even so, my words will sometimes fail.

    © Susan Schoeffield

  13. Pingback: The Poet’s Plight | Words With Sooze

  14. Darlene Franklin on said:

    LEAF

    The autumn season opens with a leaf
    First one, then two, they pave a path of gold
    Death celebrated with a glorious burst
    With riotous joy, what room is there for grief?

    Cold weather calls inside to book and leaf
    To savor precious words in well-worn tomes
    Turn the page and rediscover gems
    Of autumn’s many joys, to read is chief

    For harvest feasts, the table needs a leaf
    To make more room for family and friends
    An alphabet of wonders overfills
    Unbuckle belts and take a nap, relief

    Through autumn’s memories, take time to leaf
    Remember laughter, tears and faith and joy
    Both good and bad, don’t lose them to a thief

  15. Oh Walt, I feel so sad about this illness. Although I am not a prayer person, know that you are in my thoughts. Get well.

    Congratulations on your book! I can’t wait to read it.

  16. Walt: Shoulders squared. Prayers lifted. Hugs en route.

  17. Stranded

    She strolled along the stranded winter beach.
    A screech of seagulls rang inside her ears.
    Another wave of brackish water wailed,
    and rolled her way, yet not within her reach.

    Her mind was far away, the colors bleached.
    A pale sun hid behind a threatening cloud.
    The seashells strewn at ocean’s hem lie broken
    by February’s bitter winds. They each

    said words too terrible–a quarrel that leached
    all love–a draining mind, an empty heart.
    Still young enough to see through starry eyes,
    she felt all pledges they had made were breached.

    She strolled along the stranded winter beach,
    and turned to see the turbulence abate.
    Waves rolled her way, yet not within her reach.

  18. WmPreston on said:

    LINES COMPOSED ON A PARK BENCH

    The asters all are in their glory days,
    gleaming purple amidst the rust and gold
    as autumn introduces warmth to cold
    and I am reconciled to waning ways.

    In former times I sang a song of praise
    when orange seemed to pixelate the land,
    but now the autumn bears a blush of bland;
    the asters all are in their glory days

    and Concord grapes are in their bursting phase
    but, nonetheless, the days are trending short
    and winter waits, to add the last retort,
    and I am reconciled to waning ways.

    The asters all are in their glory days
    but you are gone, and so has laughter flown,
    and I am reconciled to waning ways.

    copyright 2014, William Preston

  19. Wonderful villinettes, beautiful form. Walt you are in my prayers as well. God bless you w peace and ease and help. Your courage is inspiring.

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