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Young Writers Society


Event 7: Not Your Average Villanelle



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37 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 759
Reviews: 37
Fri Feb 14, 2014 6:57 pm
NightWolf says...



Tumblr

(I <3 Tumblr, so it makes sense for me to use your prompt)
I struggled so much on this, it was really hard!


Tumblr is such a strange place,
But still I must update!
And see many a celebrity face,

I follow so many blogs about Doctor Who,
So I can't refresh it late!
Oh, and I follow many Sherlock ones too!

I love that GIF about 221B,
It must have been hard to create!
I wish that it was made by me,

I see a lot about Amy Pond
Whose Raggedy Doctor was late
And how she wasn't blonde

I have to see the latest trend,
So I must update!
And see what wonders it will mend

Tumblr is a lovely place,
Where I never refresh late
Full of many a celebrity face,
Oh, Tumblr is a great place!
"We're all just stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?" The Eleventh Doctor





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862 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 29096
Reviews: 862
Fri Feb 14, 2014 9:05 pm
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Morrigan says...



"A Silly Dishwashing Poem"

I went a step further and wrote this in iambic pentameter (for the most part; several troches do occur).

A/N: spoilered for very mild language.

Spoiler! :
I prithee, bring to me another sponge;
this crusty pumpkin makes me seem a fool.
This kitchen sink is filled with grime and grunge.

Into the murky depths my arms do plunge.
Velveeta, dried on, takes a whole damned crew;
I prithee, bring to me another sponge.

It has been three weeks since dishes were done.
My housemates busy, seven essays due,
this kitchen sink is filled with grime and grunge.

O lord! How nastily old food doth crunch:
Some noodles, green bean bits and onions, too!
I prithee, bring to me another sponge!

This rotting mass of filth gives me a hunch
that soon I shall require a better tool.
I prithee, bring to me another sponge;
this kitchen sink is filled with grime and grunge.
"So many poems growing outta them they're practically a poet-tree"
Gringoamericano





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29 Reviews



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Points: 1356
Reviews: 29
Fri Feb 14, 2014 10:01 pm
Spotswood says...



Not really a villanelle, but it'll do in a pinch. I wrote it a while ago, and it was rather a cinch. Tis' more of a sonnet, oh that much be true. Though it won't win, I hope it will please you.

Winter's Bane

Oh Winter so dear that hath commeth at last,
You make me feel glad and sad all the more,
You sadden me as I walk out my door,
You always made snow fall down in the past,
The snow, the snow, why does it wear that mask,
When come I know not what living is for,

I love you and hate you at the same time,
You make me feel good and bad in a swirl
I love your lovely feeling of despair
Oh how I do love the Winter’s dark chime
I’m euphoric and can take on the world
Your Dark Malice is both painful and fair
"Often, the best way to improve is swallowing your ego and realizing you're a terrible writer in all aspects of writing, then working to improve it."
-R.U.





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Fri Feb 14, 2014 10:26 pm
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Rook says...



Here we go. (for those of you wondering, Nair is a hair-removal product)

I know you love your hair
I know you love its red
But I really do not care.

You want all the boys to stare
at the flames that ring your head
I know you love your hair.

You say that it’s not fair
for it to have come so lovely-bred
But I really do not care.

I wish your head was bare:
you tout around that red.
I know you love your hair.

You like to catch a glare
of a girl who jealousy led,
but I really do not care.

I will take some Nair©
and pour it on your head.
I know you love your hair,
but I really do not care.
Instead, he said, Brother! I know your hunger.
To this, the Wolf answered, Lo!

-Elena Passarello, Animals Strike Curious Poses





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Points: 1832
Reviews: 121
Fri Feb 14, 2014 10:47 pm
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WritingWolf says...



I have two things to say real quick before my poem.
First of all, I used some rather uncommon words (some of which with multiple definitions), so I thought I'd provide their definitions...

Spoiler! :
Routh - Abundance; plenty
Drouth - Poetic from of drought
Uncouth - Lacking good manners, refinement, or grace.
Schnook - A fool
Selcouth - Strange; rare; unusual

Secondly, I'd like to thank my sister Rainn for giving me the inspiration for this poem. And I'd also like to thank my cat Butterscotch for being the inspiration that she gave to me.


The Cat's Joy

Joy flowing from his mouth.
As we hide in our little nook,
His drool comes in routh.

As it gathers below his mouth
How adorable this kitty looks,
Joy flowing from his mouth.

No chance of a drouth,
It flows like a brook.
His drool comes in routh.

He is full of love, but rather uncouth.
But if I cared I would surely be a schnook.
Joy flowing from his mouth.

To see him so happy without this behavior is selcouth.
His happiness isn't so good for my books.
His drool comes in routh.

Warmth on my leg where it lands, like a wind from the south.
My clothing is soaked in this gook.
Joy flowing from his mouth,
His drool comes in routh.
~You can only grasp what you reach for~





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Points: 4367
Reviews: 36
Fri Feb 14, 2014 11:39 pm
UshertheThird says...



The World Falls to a Cauldron Brew

Spoiler! :
I’ll end the world with flames of ice;
They heat my cauldron to its brink.
At last, the world will pay the price.

I’ll kill all live things in a trice
(For, death will do them good, I think);
I’ll end the world with flames of ice.

That monster, love, the greatest vice,
And beauty, who’s a poisoned drink,
At last, they both will pay the price.

Two lovers’ hearts shall well suffice,
And four wide eyes that slyly wink,
Dropped in the pot on flames of ice.

I draw a blade while gods play dice;
I spoon out death as black as ink.
At last, the world will pay the price.

Neath sunless skies, lightning-bolts slice
Through trees; cliffs into cold ground sink.
I’ll end the world with flames of ice;
At last, the world will pay the price.
Last edited by UshertheThird on Fri Feb 14, 2014 11:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.





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Reviews: 34
Fri Feb 14, 2014 11:51 pm
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ongoeslife says...



Better Than a Man

I love my electric fan.
He always blows cold air.
He's better than a man.

After I try to tan,
He dries my wet hair.
I love my electric fan.

I've named him Dan.
He's always there;
He's better than a man.

He's better than my van,
Which has a lot of wear and tear.
I love my electric fan.

He's a favorite if my Gran
Because of his flair.
I love my electric fan;
He's better than a man.





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Gender: Female
Points: 283
Reviews: 8
Fri Feb 14, 2014 11:56 pm
froth says...



iPad

Oh, your flashing screen,
Your vivid colors,
Without you, I have no means.

Your figure, so slight and lean,
But, yet, I'd never seen anything duller,
Until on switched your remarkable screen.

Oh! The games you have, from romantic to mean,
To many used by a scholar,
But every single one is always full of color.

You're addicting to many a teen,
Making them hunch over their collars
Down, down, at your precious screen.

Then, alas! You go clean,
Immediately so much duller,
All the life vanishes from your screen,
Along with the world of color.








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