Most Liked Villanelle Poems (35)

Unto where has this lengthened breath of air taken me?
Unto who shall I obey, for my life has said to be free?
Unto what shall I maketh of my dull and lifeless soul?
In this darkened rivalry of heat versus cold.

And how does it come to pass that I lie here awake?
My emperor of thoughts, sole ruler of the fake,
With my heart of desired passion for the one I truly love
With the tales of wisdom, kept only by the above.

Where shall I be when the clock trikes "time up"?
Still condemning my shadow, drinking from the devil's cup?
Still hiding behind eyes that just would not see,
Yet eyes that were open only, to the planes of misery.

When shall the sounds of silence enter my sleep?
That for which my heart will not allow me to keep,
When shall my heart beat as one with perfection?
Deafening the howling drones of unforgiving rejection.

For I am but one, lost within many
For I am but many, lost within one
I am two at a time, with none by my side
I am but a soul in the dark, yet one will not hide.

one who loved me so much
once asked,what should i give you
to remember me always,
i replayed , you just tell me
to forget you...

For all religious people,do not take offence at this poem.
The bible its just a fairy tale
That so many people will often believe
When at times they become so lonely beyond all reality
But the bible its just a story with no real truth to be told
And so just forget all about those fairy tales
From now so long ago
For all life itself its really for living
Just like all those others do now every day
And so don't go wasting another second
When you feel the need to pray
For all time its oh so precious
With your whole future now in store
And so now step outside while you are still alive
And then live your life once more
For each new tomorrow its not so far away
And so put that bible down
And then reach out for all of that fun
That's now forever all around
For no one knows just what might be
And so live your life to the full
For no matter how many times you pray each night
No one will hear your call
And so throw away that bible
That you have now read for so many times before
And then dance to all of that music
While you are on the disco floor
For its only then that you will meet that someone
With a very special love to share
And so now stop all of your praying
That just won't get you anywhere
For the bible it cannot give what you really need
No matter how many times you pray
And so now step outside while you are still alive
And then live your life each day.

“If Silence is golden, what is the color of noise?”
She did not die quietly. The sound-barrier blasts from the jets over her Himalayan retreat destroyed what remained of her life.
Though nothing lives forever, she once dreamed that she would.
When she was very young, she freely wandered the globe. She traveled deserts, mountains, oceans, and prairies. Before the first insect, frog, or human, peace and tranquility ruled both sides of the world.
When creatures began to roam the earth, she went her own way, often just in her own company.
She had many occupations during her life. She cared for young children playing quietly and newborns as they slept. That, of course, was before TV.
She worked with night watchmen and lone sheepherders.
Education was her career. She taught many philosophers and mystics. Her universal school transcended religion, politics or culture.
Her passions were as unique as her solitude.
You frequently could find her in empty churches or abandoned houses. She filled ball-fields after midnight.
She avoided crowds and anything mechanical or electrical. She never listened to music. Her music was soundless.
Her hobbies included hang-gliding and mountain climbing. She spent many of her vacations in the Grand Canyon. You could often meet her fly-fishing trout ponds high in the Rockies.
Her friends were often prayerful. Most of the others liked solitary walks with her in the woods.
She was Beethoven’s lover in his later years.
She was a companion to Helen Keller.
She spent time in prison camps and in solitary confinement.
There wasn’t only crying when she died. There was yelling and blaring and exploding and pounding and ticking and dripping and roaring and squeaking and throbbing and barking and thundering and ringing and elevator music endlessly.
Few know that she has died. She simply is not around anymore. She left no remains, inheritance, or next of kin.

At first communications,
May be a little rough.
Silly misunderstandings,
And other mundane stuff.

But we keep working at it,
And things just might work out.
I'll do my part, I promise,
Of that please have no doubt.

When time passes with no word,
We tend to worry so.
But then we find the reason,
It helps so much to know.

So please don't give up ever,
And neither so will I.
Each storm we two shall weather,
As long as we both try.

Walking In Gods Light

As I stumble through the darkness broken, weak and torn,
I look to the east there is a small light
As I stand there the light becomes bigger and bright
All of a sudden, I find myself thinking what a beautiful light
Then out of the brightness an Angel appears saying
“Child you are not alone:”
Even though you are weak, broken and torn
God is with you he will give you strength
Do not be afraid
As long as God is with you nothing on this earth can hurt you
Remember to always walk in the light
You don’t have to be in darkness

Belinda Clark
Copyright April 4, 2008

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Hot milk cake with cream cheese icing,
All baked up, ready for slicing.
No boxed mix, this is all from scratch,
Homemade batter in one big batch.

Eggs and milk and sugar and flour,
Just mixin' it up took me an hour.
Baking powder and vanilla,
Please turn the oven on will ya'?

Half an hour to bake it then,
Set on the rack to cool again.
That aroma that fills the air,
Can't resist it's ev'rywhere.

Cream cheese and butter, creamed up good,
Powdered sugar sift, just like it should.
Then some cocoa, vanilla too,
Stir it a while and mix it through.

Plate the cake and frost with care,
Made quite enough with some to spare.
The cake is made, that was my goal,
Just need someone to lick the bowl.

It's good to feel wanted..good to be alive,
For a while I was down..but I'm glad I survived...
To see your cute little face..hear your sweet baby voice,
It takes me back to the days,when I was 'one of the boys'
We'd call for our girl,then when the evening was gone...
We'd still see them home..(though sometimes at dawn)
We knew it was wrong,to keep the girls out so late..
But we were young,and the girls?..they were all special dates.
We knew that their parents, would be angry and mad..
And if a door suddenly opened..it was sure to be her Dad!
Oh,there were'nt any shotguns, no weapons in sight,
He did'nt need weapons to give us a fright.
Then next day we'd meet,and exchange a few tales..
Was her father still angry..was her mother still pale?
But we never did learn..never really heeded..
It was worth all the risk..to see the girl you needed!
And the hippies 'free love'?..well,yes it was there..
For the hippies and beatniks, with the flowers in their hair!
In their own little world,drugged up to the eyes..
Hardly surprising that so many of them died!
So were we all angels?..no,you're quite right,
We'd sometimes want more,when we cuddled up tight,
But in those far distant days..as I recollect..
For your girl,for your parents..there was always respect!
Now the sixties have gone,and I'm no longer young..
The songs we loved then?..they're still being sung..
And like those old songs..I know I'll survive,
I'm healthy,I'm happy..just glad to be alive.

Futbol or soccer, as you will,
By far most popular of all.
But in the States another sport,
Attention grabs of most each fall.

The tackles, blocks, the hits and shots,
So physical, this manly game.
Each Sunday bodies pay the toll,
Each Monday many come up lame.

Emotional investment's key,
Ev'ry fan loyal to their team,
As players try to execute,
What coaches on the sideline scheme.

Some go too far, they smash and burn,
In drunken, rabid revelry.
But most just cheer, high five and yell,
When their home team gains victory.

It's like no other, this I'll say,
Each yard a battle, tooth and nail.
That ball is just a marker as,
The strong and swift each play prevail.

Yes true, it's just a Yankee thing,
Though other's may well understand,
How swept up in the game we get,
As Football Fever sweeps the land.

WHERE ART THOU WHEN I NEED THEE MOST?
AH YES, THOU HAST BECOME A GHOST
A WISHING WELL EMPTY, A POND DEPLETED
AS I STAND BEFORE THEE, A MAN DEFEATED

I HAVE BECOME OVERCOME BY DEMONS INSIDE
AND WHEN ANY REQUEST OF YOU "WHY HAST HE DIED?"
SAY UNTO THEM "HE WAS A MAN WITH THIRST UNQUENCHED"
AND TELL THEM I DIED WITH MY TEETH WELL CLENCHED

"CLENCHED" SAYETH EACH "BUT WHY?" THEY WONDER
"BECAUSE," RESPONDS YOU "OF THE CERTAIN THUNDER
HEAR NOT THEE THE THUNDER WHICH KILLED HIM WELL?
"OH YES," THEY WILL SAY, "NOW I HEAR WHAT CONDEMNED HIM TO HELL"

"SO," SAYETH THEE "WITHOUT ANY DOUBT
THERE WILL, BECAUSE OF HIS DEATH, BE FORMED A DROUGHT
A DRYNESS NO MORTAL NOR GOD CAN CREATE
FOR I TELL YOU MY MAN DIED OF PURE HATE"

"T'WAS HATRED WHICH CONDEMNED HIM AND DAMNED HIM TO FIRE
AND I SWEAR UNTO ALL MY MAN WAS NO LIAR
HE TOLD THE TRUTH BEFORE THE TEMPLE OF LOVE
UNTIL A THOUSAND DEMONIC ANGELS APPEARED FROM ABOVE"

SO LET THEM HEAR THE WORDS OF A MAN SWORN UNTO DEATH
AND VOW UNTO THEM THAT WITH EACH BLESSED BREATH
EASINESS ARRIVED THAT EVE, MY SWEET
BECAUSE T'WAS WITH EAGERNESS MY DEATH DID I MEET

THUSLY DO I SWEAR WHEN YOU GAZE ALL AROUND
AND FIND NOT MY BODY TO WHERE HELL WAS BOUND
REMEMBER WHEN WE MET, A MOST MEMORABLE DATE
AND THEN CAME THE NIGHT YOUR MAN DIED OF SELF-HATE
(C) 2011.....free cee!