Writing Prompt: Poem – Villanelle – “Becoming ‘The Angel In The House’.” #amwriting #poetry #victorianera 


Thank you to Oloriel of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Villanelle writing prompt this week.

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Credit: http://www.webexhibits.org – Italian School, The Rustic Concert, The Song

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Teach us teacher, we’re ready to learn,

We’re here to fill our minds, wonder blooming. 

For learning’s life’s opportunities earned.

Oh what problems will we learn to discern? 

Reading, poise, religion; house ‘angels’ singing, 

Teach us teacher, we’re ready to learn. 

How should we serve tea? Keep house, give birth, turn —

On those not good enough? Not with us ranking. 

For learning’s life’s opportunities earned. 

Should our daughters be haughty and learn —

Their goal (as ours), to marry well praying, 

Teach us teacher, we’re ready to learn.

Are we moral centers? Ignoring sperns, 

Spouse with many beds, mistresses stringing. 

For learning’s life’s opportunities earned. 

Our value, our husband, children, in turn —

Their children, their marriages bliss bringing? 

Teach us teacher, we’re ready to learn, 

For learning’s life’s opportunities earned.

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Credit: Crosscurrents Writing Gender – Quote from Virginia Woolf
 

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Villanelle

A Villanelle is a nineteen-line poem consisting of a very specific rhyming scheme: aba aba aba aba aba abaa.
The first and the third lines in the first stanza are repeated in alternating order throughout the poem, and appear together in the last couplet (last two lines).”

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Poem: Cinquins (2,4,6,8,2) – ” A Place To Breathe” #wordhighjuly #amwriting



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http://www.galmeetsglam.com

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There are,

Places we find, 

The world scars our being.

Sanctuary is needed, 

What’s yours? 

——

In our, 

Minds overwhelmed, 

By everything we need–

To do, but relief comes with breathing,

In, out.

——–

Perhaps, 

It’s a place with, 

Grassy knolls and sun beams bright, 

Where yoga mats lay, and you pose and,

Stretch-out.

—–

Release, 

Everything pent —

Up inside your heart box, 

From the years, shoving secrets deep, 

Relax.

—–

Tell who, 

You must and let, 

Your friend know, these hard times, 

You’re letting them all go, melting,

Away.

—–

Perhaps, 

It’s a place with, 

A lake and fishing poles, 

And a serenity found in quiet, 

Have peace.

——

Maybe, 

You read books and, 

Spend the whole day absorbed, 

Letting time pass, body revives,

Mind rests.

——-

Maybe,

You run because, 

Endorphins flow and you —

Feel alive on pavement jogging.

Freeing.

——-

Perhaps, 

You spend the day, 

With an old friend, or your spouse.

Maybe you pretend you are both young.

Dreaming.

——-

Or you, 

Could travel far, 

See art, culture breathe new —

Experiences and let wanderlust, 

Take you.

——-

Wherever, 

You go, you need

Find your kalinai, 

Serenity, deep in your soul.

Peace be.

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Etherees –  “Always Drunk at Thirty-Six”


http://www.hgn.com

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Hangovers must be hell at thirty-six.

It’s nice to feel a little tipsy,

But aren’t you too old for weekends,

Passed out; weekend nights binging,

No, don’t live life wasted,

Watch your intake guy,

Nice to let life, 

Be; Moving,

With the

Flow.

One,

Day you,

Need to put,

Your grown up pants,

On each foot and think,

“Do, I want to spend life —

Drinking time away when I —

Could be living life loving ’cause,

I’ve a woman who lights up my days?

When I’ve life complete, why spend it wasted ?”

There’s a reason we all get drunk, sometimes.

We’re hurt bad inside, we need numbness,

We’re trying to forget a hard job,

Covering monotony,

Or we need some courage,

To do difficult things,

Losing ourself,

In ruby-red,

Or white,

Beer.

—-

Try

We think,

How’d we get,

To this place where,

We’ve no memory,

Tried forgetting reality,

Was merely out for good times,

Spending the night laughing with friends,

Don’t remember conversations with some —

Woman, no girl who matters; booty call.

Hangover fades and you think back on her, there,

For your enjoyment, drunken fumble in, 

Some bedroom, yours — you always come,

To your place, you prefer to,

Make them leave embarrassed,

Because you’ve no memory,

They’re a night,

A moment,

You made,

Null.

—-

Void,

You hear,

Sounds so loud,

Awaking finally,

The worlds gone ink dark,

You’re wandering between,

Days, which keep fading into the —

Last day, recall being fully —

Awake, not caught in haze of rye, rum —

Shots done all night as in younger days.

—-

Maybe, you’ve never passed this stage, growing,

Past a point most people realize some–

Day in their late-twenties when,

Hangovers last two-days,

And along come their kids,

With their beloved spouse,

Socializing change,

Set example,

Fun times,

Change.

—-

But

I think,

You’re single,

Might impress on, 

Pretty women’s view,

You’re not in drunken haze,

You can hold your liquor well,

Enjoy yourself sometimes, let liquor —

Relax your soul, knowing your limit,

She sees you being yourself, not some drunk.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved