Little Miss Homo Sapien's Cave


I’ve decided to expand my horizon when it comes to writing poems. Whereas before I would only write in freestyle rhymes and customized prose, and quatrains and haiku, now I will start getting my hands on other forms of poetry such as sestina, tanka, sonnet and villanelle.

It is for the reason that quality time over penning poems and posting them is getting harder to come by these days that I am giving myself the pleasant responsibility of being more consistent with the flow of my creative juices. My mind has been getting stuck in the rut of daily routine, so I have tasked myself to always come up with fresh and challenging contents on my blogs, specially here in In Other Words, in order for me to be continually productive and avoid braindead-ness.

For now I will start with a villanelle. I’m looking forward to writing more in the coming days.

Wake up, this must only be a bad dream
Be comforted in knowing that all of it was untrue;
My reflection on the consciousness’ stream.

The wounded wing of a bird up the tree
Bleeding to death from the stone I threw:
Wake up, this must only be a bad dream.

Just a child but already playing the field
Though mother said don’t go too far, I have not a clue –
My reflection on the consciousness’ stream.

The flower offering immortalized not in your lips
But merely in between the pages of a friendship book –
Wake up, this must only be a bad dream.

Underwater, glazed eyes, given up fighting
Flashbacks of memories formed on the deep blue:
My reflection on the consciousness’ stream.

The great waters halfway to the glass’ brim
Whether it was half-empty or half-full:
Wake up, this must only be a bad dream,
My reflection on the consciousness’ stream.


9 responses

  1. I want to interpret this with a photo so bad… πŸ™‚ I can imagine everything already. Dang…

    10/05/2011 at 21:57

    • Hey that would be great. Send me the photo and I’ll include it here together with the villanelle if you don’t mind πŸ˜‰

      10/05/2011 at 23:20

      • A challenge! Why not? πŸ™‚ I’ll try, but it’s just a vision… I don’t know if it will translate well into a photograph. ok? πŸ™‚

        11/05/2011 at 23:45

  2. wow. this is very powerful for me!

    11/05/2011 at 07:00

  3. Is WOW an acceptable comment? Because I really don’t know what to say when something hits me emotionally. What a coincidence that I’ve been going through some sad memories in my head today that make me really relate to this poem. Or maybe it’s the other way round. One never knows with literature.
    You know I actually had to look up what a villanelle is? What on earth am I about to get two degrees in literature for? What have my teachers been teaching me these years? By the way, I’ve always wondered how you count syllables and rhyme in English. It’s a real mystery to me.

    11/05/2011 at 09:27

    • Hmm. Maybe because the literature program in your college is centered in Spanish and don’t delve too much on “external” literary laws and approaches? The Spanish literature is a vast world and I guess little villanelle is among the last of its concerns. πŸ™‚

      Anyway what do you mean with how I count syllables and rhyme in English? Can you be more specific?

      11/05/2011 at 22:43

  4. Ah the blessed villanelle. I’ve penned many, but never felt well enough to let them leave my books. You’ve really done something beautiful here. It’s great.

    13/05/2011 at 11:44

    • Thanks for the heartwarming words. It’s my very first attempt at villanelle and I’m inspired to create more.

      Do let your villanelles leave your book. You’re doing humanity a great disservice by not sharing your art!

      14/05/2011 at 10:06

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