Broken Villanelle

This Villanelle is the twin brother of Villanelle Six. If you want a true villanelle, then read that. If you want a hybrid of Villanelle and free verse, then read this. Both are six poems in one.

I am not a warm person, my good man

I sit in a room and stare at a screen

I search through my mind, and peer through a dream

 

I wander alone, on my plastic chair throne

I cough when I sleep, I laugh when you weep

I am not a warm person, my good man

 

I flounder past the wonders of some two

Dimensional beings, sampling the screen

I search through my mind, and peer through a dream

 

The ends justify the means, the world is

Oversaturated, diseased, you see

I am not a warm person, my good man

 

Some call me a rain cloud, others a machine

A fiend with oil slick veins, water drowned brain

I search through my mind, and peer through a dream

 

Although I have my beliefs, reality

Is not my vision, prison, outside reach

I am not a warm person, my good man

I search through my mind, and peer through a dream

 

I am all alone, or so it would seem

My purgatory, insantuary

An isolated vagabond, can’t move on

 

I’m cold to the teeth, biting at life, spit on your feet

Wait for fresh meat, savour defeat

An isolated vagabond, I can’t move on

 

I subjugate my time, rhyme with my speech

When the colours of your life have been sept in bleach

I am all alone, or so it would seem

 

What memories do you need, from a faded history?

Laugh through madness, gasp through disaster, drown as

An isolated vagabond, I can’t move on

 

I stood among the others, my brothers

Left me silent, quiet, loveless, alive

I am all alone, or so it would seem

 

Simply to be, fulfill my soft human needs

Until my hubris bleeds, my devils freed

I am all alone, or so it would seem

An isolated vagabond, I can’t move on

 

I’ve been left behind, it’s time that I leave

Where the ones gone unseen, can’t smile or be

Half-dead, hung by a thread, stitch back the seams

 

Though the sand the particles of rock are

Disconnected, in their own flawed perfection

I’ve been left behind, it’s time that I leave

 

Slip through your fingers, the harder you clench

Can they comprehend, dismembering men?

Half-dead, hang by a thread, stitch back the seams

 

I wish I could be something I am not

Someone better, one mentally well off

I’ve been left behind, it’s time that I leave

 

But I am not God, solidified, strong

Cannot be anything but children in need

Half-dead, hang by a thread, stitch back the seams

 

Doesn’t matter if I come undone, blood

Flows, runs, dries, dies, sates life revitalized

I’ve been left behind, it’s time that I leave

Half-dead, hang by a thread, stitch back the seams

 

Low loner,  under well-ordered street corner

The evening, snow falling, the stars calling

The four leaf clover grows from the sunrise

 

Every life matters, even souls shatter

Iron hearts splatter, metal minds ravaged

Low loner, under well-ordered street corner

 

Grieving through the morning, day’s orange greeting

Life feeding will-power, reason, fiercest

The four leaf clover grows from the sunrise

 

Gather all life around, before sundown

Every human being, deserves to be free

Low loner, under well-ordered street corner

 

For I was just like you, cold under moon

Flourishing flora rewarded guided

The four left clover grows from the sunrise

 

Even love-starved loners can be lucky

Even cold frozen clovers are beautiful

Low loner, under well-ordered street corner

The four leaf clover grows from the sunrise

 

I will not be deemed unworthy of love

I do not fight righteously with no heart

For my life, to be abused, inhuman, wrong

 

I keep moving, forward, onwards, and I don’t care

If you try to stop me, if the folks stare

I will not be deemed unworthy of love

 

I am more than flesh and blood pulsating

Words are more than spit, tongue, articulated

For my life, to be abused, inhuman, wrong

 

I fight for the right to live, won’t give in

When the people look at me grin, sinning

I will not be deemed unworthy of love

 

I am alive, glowing like rainbows of memories

Knowing and hoping, loving and open

For me, to be abused, inhuman, wrong

 

Is proof of my humanity, sanity

Cracked imagination, but managing

I will not be deemed unworthy of love

For my life, to be abused, inhuman, wrong

 

For love is to mourn, and time is to grieve

I am all alone, or so it would seem

If you take time to see, breath colour, be

 

Imaginary, world’s full of meaning

I search through my mind, and peer through a dream

I open my spirit, hopeful, broken, free

 

Fresh morning eyes, for a moment shut tight

The four leaf clover grows from the sunrise

I sign of new life, fickle, pure green fire

 

Life is a poem, as warm as the breeze

I’ve been left behind, it’s time that I leave

As silver as souls, and cold as the seas

 

For after all of my pain, I’m still young

I will not be deemed unworthy of love

And the thread of my fate still must be spun

 

My blood flows thickly, towards the minute

I’m done, and I will move on, and I may die young

For love is to mourn, and time is to greive

If you take time to see, breath colour, be

 

 

Low loner, under well-ordered street corner

I am not a warm person, my good man          

For my life, to be abused, inhuman, wrong

Half-dead, hang by a thread, stitch back the seams    

An isolated vagabond, I can’t move on           

For love is to mourn, and time is to grieve

If you take time to see, breath colour, be

Author's Note

I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.

Reviews

[Ghost writer]

I like this but you said it was like six poems pushed into one, so I do have to wonder why you wouldn't just a make it six poems, half dead, hang by a thread stitch back the seems is a very powerful line

[Zhavy]

Really cool, love the rhyme, rhythm & tempo of this one. Almost plays out like thoughts while looking into a mirror, very powerful stuff and reflective. Great job

[wordman]

some people just don`t want to be screwed with jack