When Holidays Change

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub – MTB–How to Write a Villanelle  (posted by Frank)
Hello, this is Frank Hubeny. Today’s form is the villanelle. Colin Lee used this form in a poem last month which gave me the idea to focus on villanelles today: https://pescetarianpoet.wordpress.com/2017/05/09/in-love-with-fantasies/

We’ve done villanelle’s before, but the last one was over two years ago and that was based on a repost of Samuel Peralta’s original post: https://dversepoets.com/2015/04/02/the-art-of-villanelle/  In that post you can find Dylan Thomas’ famous villanelle begging his dying father to rage against the night.
I see the villanelle as having two perspectives. There is a “theme” and there are the “details”.  This is how I would go about writing a villanelle.  If you have other methods let us know in the comments below.

Simple holidays are not the same-
Father or Mother’s Day, family traditions
when those you love are too soon claimed.

Though a holiday candle’s glowing flame
warms with new family additions,
simple holidays are not the same.

You gaze at them in gilded frames
It is hard not to weep under those conditions,
when those you love are too soon claimed.

Everyone feels an unbearable strain
not to lapse into tearful remission.
Simple holidays are not the same.

If you day turns blue, there’s no one to blame,
for there is a period of transition,
when those you love are too soon claimed.

Though you cannot help but exclaim
how difficult it is, the sad admission-
simple holidays are not the same
when those you love are too soon claimed.



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colors to inspire

Written for:  Carpe Diem Theme Week:  The Songs of Milarepa (1) Intro

Milarepa is one of the most widely known Tibetan Saints. In a superhuman effort, he rose above the miseries of his younger life and with the help of his Guru, Marpa the Translator, took to a solitary life of meditation until he had achieved the pinnacle of the enlightened state, never to be born again into the Samsara (whirlpool of life and death) of worldly existence. Out of compassion for humanity, he undertook the most rigid asceticism to reach the Buddhic state of enlightenment and to pass his accomplishments on to the rest of humanity. His spiritual lineage was passed along to his chief disciples, Gambopa and Rechung. It was Rechung who recorded in detail the incidents of Milarepa’s life for posterity. The narrative of his life has thus been passed down through almost a millennium of time and has become an integral part of Tibetan culture.
Milarepa extemporaneously composed innumerable songs throughout his life relevant to the dramatic turns of events of himself and his disciples in accordance with an art form that was in practice at the time. These songs have been widely sung and studied in Tibet ever since and have been recorded as the Hundred Thousand Songs of Milarepa. His faithful devotion, boundless religious zeal, monumental forbearance, superhuman perseverance, and ultimate final attainment are a great inspiration today for all. His auspicious life illumined the Buddhist faith and brought the light of wisdom to sentient
beings everywhere. (Source: Cosmic Harmony)

deep silence
inhaling the sounds of nature –
white clouds dance

© Chèvrefeuille (our host)

Here is my attempt:

lush growth of colors
Mother Nature’s life cycle
inspires our own



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Written for:  Poets United Midweek Motif~Yoga

You may be contemplative, humorous or sarcastic. It would be lovely if you could include the word ‘yoga’ in your lines. You may even dwell on the literal meaning of the word ‘Yoga’ which is ‘Union’. And a personal experience would be an added bonus.

From BlackwaterWoods by Mary Oliver:

“To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.”

Yoga is physical and mental
therapy-a union of body
and mind. Stretch your
limits, bend to your
will, and calm your brain
with soothing music. An aura
of relaxation will soon give way
to renewed energy.


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The Beetle

Written for:  Poetic Asides #398 – Write a bug poem.

Bug-eyed, insincere
smile, he resembles
a cartoon beetle.
His voice needles
me, gets under my
skin like shivers
of creepy, crawling
fingers. Lingers after
he has finished speaking.
Wish he would recuse
himself from that large
cabinet he hangs out in.
Maybe then, we would hear
a pleasing voice, and see
a smile of honesty.

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Iron Me Out

Written for:  The Twiglets #28:  “wrinkled linen”

No fuss, no muss, no iron, no worries over wrinkled linen.




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Greek Salad

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub:  Quadrille #35 -”pepper”  (posted by Kim)
Pepper can be a noun meaning the fruit of a climbing plant that yields pungent aromatic spice or various pungent vegetables, such as the capsicum. It can be a verb, meaning to season with pepper, to sprinkle or dot, or to pelt with missiles. You could write about something that’s peppery or pepper-and-salt, or you could write about peppercorns, pepper mills or peppermint. Does anyone remember the children’s books about Mrs Pepperpot?  Or you could take inspiration from the Beatles’ album.
Join us in celebrating one of the best-loved Beatles’ albums! Just be sure your 44-word poem contains some form of the word pepper.

Greek salad sings
with flavors. Tomato,
cucumber cubes, sliced
red radishes, pungent
salty Feta cheese,
and Kalamata olives
bobbing up here and there.
White, creamy dressing
I can eat with a spoon,
and curled in corners
of dish-two lonely
pepperoncini. Why
aren’t there more?


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Written for:  Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads
Micro-Poetry:  Dark Emeralds
Write a poem in no more than 10 lines.


unaware of blue mist dotting my face until
I inhaled salt of ocean.


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Written for:  Haiku Horizons – “bright”

in a field
buttercups bow their heads
bright golden honey


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Echo of Broken Words

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #304

Words:  whistle, prints, echo, thread, ring, apart, wheel, broken, gnaws, fall, touch

Echo of your broken
words rings in hollow
tones, whistle-threads
that tangle, and gnaw
at my insides. Like a damaged
wheel that can no longer
roll, its imprint rutted
in a fallow field,
so a part of my heart
can no longer feel a touch.
Leaves are edged
in orange fire as Fall
ensues. I am hopeful
that echoes will be too faint
to hear over their rustling.



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‘rites of yoga’

Written for:  Carpe Diem #1206 Yoga (especially Tibetan 5 rites Yoga)

regaining youth
through the Tibetan rites
secrets reveiled

© Chèvrefeuille  (our host)

Here is my attempt:

stretching limbs

pushing boundaries of movement

loosens body and mind










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