First recorded poem. Need to do this more so I don’t suck as much.
First recorded poem. Need to do this more so I don’t suck as much.
Has gone interestingly.
To be gentle.
Reality is, I don’t like it, not because of my writing but because I dislike the form. It’s so… call-and-response without clever musicality, at the least to me.
But I’m working on more poems, partially for a class (assignment due tomorrow, but folio is D, O, N, E) and partially, because fixed form poetry is HARD for me to write but because I’m sick in the head and love a challenge, I sort of leapt on the idea.
So I took Love, my sleeping disorder, my adoration of twisting beauty and ugliness into some semblance of poetic metaphor and came up with what is below.
Here’s my first attempt at a Villanelle (Think ‘Do Not Go Gentle into that Good Night’ by Dylan Thomas, plus a love of naval gazing and minus his talent)
Patterns:
She sees a pattern on my skin, far too deep.
but laughs and sings my soul around
as I rest in numb and blissfully dead sleep.
Within her arms, my soul to keep
forevermore, completely icebound.
She sees a pattern on my skin, far too deep.
She’s not scared of darkness wherein I weep
or the crimson that runs without a sound
as I rest in numb and blissfully dead sleep.
She opens my eyes to the world we reap
the harvest I’ve thrown to the ashy ground
She sees a pattern on my skin, far too deep.
At night, she comes to my heart, where my cheap
love is spread out for her, waiting to be found
as I rest in numb and blissfully dead sleep.
Within her eyes, my heart does leap,
and in her voice, my soul can resound.
She sees a pattern on my skin, far too deep
as I rest in numb and blissfully dead sleep.