Groans: Genre Villanelle

by Radrook

Published May 20, 2018

E - Everyone

In Poetry

Must I remain till painful death alone?

The future stares at me with vacant eyes.

The prayers I once declared have turned to groans.

-

All fantasies I dreamed dissolved and gone,

turned gargoyle once divested of disguise.

Must I remain till painful death alone?

-

No longer do I chase the setting sun

considering myself profoundly wise.

The prayers I once declared have turned to groans.

-

I must now walk. I can no longer run.

My body feels corrupted and chastised.

Must I remain till painful death alone?

-

True love that I pursued has always shunned

regardless of the pleading of my eyes,

The prayers I once declared have turned to groans

-

Shall I admit what destiny has shown?

That brilliant roads have petered without prize?

Must I remain till painful death alone?

The prayers I once declared have turned to groans.

-

Addendum

This is my first serious attempt at the Villanelle.

Comments & reviews · 5
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KatjaDawn
Review
KatjaDawn wrote a review Review · May 27, 2018

Hi Radrook! Katja here, once more, to review your amazing work! As usual, feel free to disregard any of my comments or suggestions should you deem them unhelpful.

That being said, onto the review!

Your work never ceases to impress me. This poem seems to be of an older gentleman who is frustrated with his aging and seems to not want to wait until a "painful death" takes him. This is something that always frightens me about aging.

What I Liked:

I love that this poem effectively conveys the old man's frustration at his age.

I must now walk. I can no longer run.

My body feels corrupted and chastised.


This really emphasizes his anger/frustration and negativity towards his age and resulting inability to do what he once could as a younger man. I like that it feels REAL, as though one of my own older relatives is speaking to me. And it makes me almost feel pity for the elderly, which i know, on some level is wrong. We all age, but it can seem unfair to some when it limits what you used to be able to do.

Anyway, I have no suggestions for you on this piece. You have a very well-written Villanelle style poem, about an older person seemingly frustrated with their age.

As always, i look forward to reading your work! (I also just realized I assumed it was a gentleman, sorry about that!)

Keeping writing,

-katja

Thanks for the review and encouraging words. You understood the poem perfectly. Good to know you found the poem significant in relation to the present human condition..

User avatar
Radrook
Comment
Radrook commented Comment · May 27, 2018

I see it now. Sorry, I have vision problems. Fixed it. Thanks!
BTW My typo did not include an "a".

correction: It did include an "a".

Random avatar
LadyOkra
Review
LadyOkra wrote a review Review · May 27, 2018

Hello there!

What a wonderful poem. It truly resonates the pain of being alone. Somehow the poem can represent both a person who has aged and awaits nothing but death all alone, and also a person who is young but has aged mentally. He believes he has no future and no companion and must remain alone till death.

I'm no expert at poetry but I thought this line was a bit strange:

I can longer a run

Great job! Keep writing more and more.

Cheers.

Thanks for the review and encouraging words. What do you find strange about an aged person being forced to walk because he can no longer run?

I'm sorry I wasn't clear. I found the way you worded it strange. Not the fact that the old person cannot run. Personal opinion. :)

I see it now. Sorry, I have vision problems. Fixed it. Thanks!
BTW My typo did not include an "a".

User avatar
Wordzyy
Comment
Wordzyy commented Comment · May 22, 2018

The way you present your poem is impressive. I am learning a lot through your writing. There is an intense power in the usage of your vocabulary.I was totally into your poem, great work.

Thanks for the review and encouraging words. Much appreciated.

User avatar
aulyasela3597
Comment
aulyasela3597 commented Comment · May 21, 2018

Beautiful poem!

Thanks! Much appreciated.



Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.
— David Foster Wallace