Rikki: Loss

Loss

In September you lost someone so close and dear

I couldn’t understand why you didn’t cry

I knew what it was like to grow up without a father

but to have yours taken from you—I couldn’t understand that pain

I wanted to find a miracle solution to make things better

I wanted to be by your side, but I held on to you too tightly

too young to experience a loss, and too scared to ask how it feels

it took two months for you to finally break down

for tears to stream down from your troubled eyes

and in those eyes I saw beauty,

and I saw all the pain that you kept inside

and I finally felt what you felt

for your troubles are my troubles
and your losses are my losses

Grow (Revised)

grow, heave, breath
                soak seedling spread, send roots deep and true                                           
appear, emerge, free
                chirp hatchling cry, your nest protects you                                     
waggle, wiggle, jiggle
                splash tadpole dive, under lily pad pond
munch, crunch, chomp
                chew caterpillar climb, grow big and strong
                                                              
give, nurture, provide                                                               
                spread branches little trees, green and thick    
search, find, create,                
                build nests little birds, twig, grass, and stick   
swim, dip, spray 
                croak little frogs, find life outside the pond
dazzle, astonish, amaze  
                take wing little butterflies, time to go beyond

Alice's Madam Death (take three!)

Madam Death

In Brazil, Death is female.

Madam Death wears a black cloak

the hood of which she always wears (even at the beach).

Like Mr. Stork, her competitor, she is timeless

and takes well-deserved pride

in always getting her man

for no one can escape her or her List

however hard they try.

Madam Death is not unfeeling

but she must do her thankless job

day in and day out

she chases, cajoles, traps and tricks

she always gets her man

doing the job no one wants—

someone has to, after all.

Madam Death is capable of great compassion,

but dying is a side-effect of living;

and her List is not hers to control,

once in it, your future is set.

she'll tackle you down if she has to -

one way or another she always gets her man.

when angered, we are told, her wrath is great:

even her godson was not spared

for trying to cheat her,

or so the story goes.

That is why beneath her cloak

the hood of which she always wears (even at the beach)

she is a skeleton, her face a grinning skull

eery and unnerving, 

yet oddly funny

for Madam Death without her hood
is like a werewolf wearing a cone of shame.

Sonnet for Eve

I was born a mason, carving stone and erecting walls

around my sacred being until my limbs grew weary.

You breached my walls, brought them down upon us,

leaving one soul to rise from the rubble, naked and proud.

Life ushered forth from the heap, growing

wild and tangled as our bodies in the sun.

We championed nature, blamed it for our struggles,

and masked our weakness with its perfection.

                                     

When we’re dancing, toe to toe, taking modest steps,

is that distance fleeting, or is it there to keep?

When we’re standing, hand in hand, bowing center stage,

be it heart in throat, or be it tongue in cheek?

When we’re lying, side by side, tasting forbidden flesh,

is it fear defeated, or is it fear complete?

The Deconstruction of "Summer"

Beneath the richly layered river hills,

twilight flows along the valley deep,

an inky parallel to the river’s water.

I lie against a rock; I listen to the low,

sweet gurgle of the water as it speaks to the rocks,

to the sand, telling tales of faraway lands.

While the stoic stones feign indifference,

even as they sit spellbound upon the river’s word. 

The delicate conversation lulls my senses. 

The peace shatters as awful sound tears the valley.

The squeal of green branches resisting the motion of—

a cow moose who emerges, a black flame of frustration

from out of the clumped and tangled willows.

It is this sudden noise that ends my reverie.

Panicked she quests to find— what?

Ah, there is her wayward calf. 

I rise up with the thought that I have found happiness,

but now I must go-- for mosquitoes care not a whit

for dreams, nor words. 

Odd then that they truly enjoy having poets about.

- Vincent Seeger

Anton's Villanelle: I Love Bed.

Mornings suck; I love bed.

Sandy eyes and messy hair.

I pull the covers over my head.

I long for comfort, hard desk instead.

Being awake just isn't fair.

Lunchtime bores; I love bed.

The afternoon drags on, heavy as lead.

My back aches from this plastic chair.

I pull my hoodie over my head.

Dinner eaten, I'm drowsy and fed.

Homework due but I don't care.

Evenings are good. I love bed.

I could go to sleep, TV instead.

Just one more episode, I swear.

Common sense goes over my head.

A full night of sleep is very rare,

the morning light I have come to dread.

Mornings suck; I love bed,

I pull the covers over my head.

Keely's Villanelle: Somewhere Close to Home

The warmth of the sun

The chill of the shade

The glint from the gun

Simple summer fun

Slowly starting to fade

With the warmth of the sun

Where can you run

To forget about the raid

And the glint from the gun

Compassion they shun

And honor they trade

With the warmth of the sun

Justice for none

The debt has been paid

With the glint from the gun

Let’s hope they’ve won

This war that they made

For the warmth of the sun

With the glint of the gun

Andrew's Villanelle: Like You Care

Stop before you dare 

look hurt that I accept

you're acting like you care.

Lured me with a stare

that rendered me inept,

and stopped it on a dare.

Bared your all to share

like dreams already slept,

while acting like you care.

Impossible to scare

you never even wept,

and stop before you dare.

Took all I that could spare

and most of what I kept.

Still acting like you care?

You had me in your snare,

(until out of it I crept).

So stop before you dare

start acting like you care.

Louise's Villanelle: Pretend You Are Praying

Move your lips to pretend you are praying

go to a world where you know

even though you don’t know what you are saying.

Five years old and the things they are displaying

do not speak your language is what they show.

Move your lips to pretend you are praying

Did you hear, her cousin isn’t staying                                               

they buried her down below.                       

Even though you don’t know what you are saying

the priest told her to be quiet while laying

a man’s touch, what a way to know.

Move your lips to pretend you are praying.

You are a heathen is what they are spraying.

Your Mother’s love is hard to let go.

Even though you don’t know what you are saying

to the nuns and priests, you want to go slaying.

Now he is a pedophile; little joe; or (namoya kiskatin otah kiyanow).

Move your lips to pretend you are praying

even though you don’t know what you are saying.

Louise Omeasoo

(translation; we don’t understand (whats going on) here (in this location) all of us).

Coleman's Villanelle: Polynices’ Purpose

To kill my brother and storm his gates.

Seven against Thebes, against Eteocles,

to slit his throat and defy the fates.

I submit, I listen, as rage dictates,

to obey the whispers in the breeze,

to kill my brother and storm his gates.

Such savagery my mind creates.

To find some peace, to be at ease,

to slit his throat and defy the fates.

Supposing Father’s curse awaits…

before I die I will be pleased

to kill my brother and storm his gates.

Our eyes meet, our fear abates. 

Seven against Thebes, follow Polynices,

to slit his throat and defy the fates!

A story so grim that Death narrates.

My purpose fades, my intention flees,

I killed my brother and stormed his gates,
He slit my throat and… no one defies the fates.

Polynices and Eteocles were the sons of Oedipus. When Oedipus blinded himself, he cursed his sons to battle over their inheritance.

Jess's Villanelle: Lament of a Wonder Woman Fan

Give her the freedom to be strong

a female hero to repair

a group in which we can belong.

I’ve been searching for it all along,

can superheroines be so rare?

Give her the freedom to be strong.

I’m listening for that theme song,

our coach soaring through the air

for a group in which we can belong.

Girls for justice can’t be wrong,

where are our mentors brave and fair?

Give us the freedom to be strong.

In the city amongst the throng

are countless heroes with flowing hair,

is there a group in which we can belong?

I’ll have to write my own theme song

and build myself a secret lair,

give myself the freedom to be strong
without a group where I belong.

Brittany's Villanelle: You

Up until the day that I met you,

I never knew that love really existed;

could never fathom emotions so true.

I was content with a barely beating heart

(it had been battered and twisted)

before the day that I met you.

You swore nothing would tear us apart

and yet still, I insisted

that only fairy tales keep emotions so true.

So I hid my love in the dark,

I pulled back and I wished that

It could be the day before I met you.

A million volts awakened me with a start,

You opened your arms, my defenses resisted!

I fell head first into a love pure and true.

You are the keeper of my heart,

the reason that I’ve existed.

I am forever in debt to the day I met you,
for the emotions we have, so true.

Ashley's Villanelle: Storm the Castle

Storm the Castle

This is the day that we've waited long for,

the time that we've prepared for now has come,

destiny calls and united we stand!

Too late to turn back, we will not disband!

Raise your head, match your heartbeat to the drum!

This is the day that we've waited long for!

Our courage is strong, we will hide no more,

the thick chords of discord are being strum,

destiny calls and united we stand!

Eyes on the horizon, protect our land!

All together, almighty is our sum!

This is the day that we've waited long for!

We must promptly fix what tyranny tore

and proudly create our own rule of thumb,

destiny calls and united we stand!

Trust the cause for our mission is at hand.

With loved ones in mind, sing a deadly hum,

this is the day that we've waited long for!

Destiny calls and united we stand!

Ashley Smith

Vincent's Villanelle: Depression

Cannot think with a head of clay.

Why must life always come to grief?

Is there no other better way.

To the devil must I pay

in order to find some relief.

Bargain my life into the clay

On the cold ground my corpse to lay

though it is against my belief

perhaps there is no other way.

No longer can I run or play

from here that time seems all too brief

I can no longer shape the clay.

I hear the chatter of a jay

he will not take this fog; the thief

I tell him to just go away.

My sadness he would not slay.

Joy wreaks upon my stony reef.

Beneath my feet is frozen clay,

as I trudge along the dark way

Vincent Seeger   

Cannot think with a head of clay.

Why must life always come to grief?

Is there no other better way?

To the devil must I pay

in order to find some relief.

Bargain my life into the clay,

on the cold ground my corpse to lay

though it is against my belief

perhaps there is no other way.

No longer can I run or play

from here that time seems all too brief.

I can no longer shape the clay.

I hear the chatter of a jay.

He will not steal this fog—the thief!

I tell him just to go away.

My sadness he could never slay.

Joy wreaks upon my stony reef.

Beneath my feet is frozen clay,

as I trudge along the dark way.