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Blanket eyes,
Close, to see the light.

Drift,
Further from the shining bright.

Open wide,
To see the blight.

That which,
Leaves with dreams of flight.

Goodbye, fateful might,
For once again,
I will sleep tonight.
Shivani Lalan Apr 18
never and never my boy,
riding away and away
from the land of the hearthstone tales
to never look back,
fear or believe
that a look cast into the past
might trip you up ahead.

never and never my boy,
fear or believe
that your Troubles,
dressed in cloaks of Joy -
snarling and snaking,
roughly and blithely
shall leap -
my boy, my boy -
into a home under new trees
in a sunlit year
to eat your heart
in this house
in your whole new world.
in country sleep by dylan thomas is one of my favourite poems ever. this is my reply/homage to it.
Ron Gavalik Jan 21
The guy who wore a scarf at the bar,
he chose not to write
because he's ‘no Hemingway.’
I told him no one stops me.
Memories of Ginsberg, Frost, Thomas,
and even Bukowski's drunken ghost
make me feel at home in my words.
That didn't change the guy's mind,
so I told him to drink up
and do something else.

-Ron Gavalik
Oliver Philip Dec 2018
A Villanelle poetic form
Is a Nineteen line poem
5 Stanzas of three lines
Followed by a single Stanza of four lines
Two refrains and two repeating rhymes
Rhyme patterns
A1 ,b A2.a,b ,A1.a,b,A2.a,b,A1.a,b,A2 ,a,b,A1,A2
Here is a famous Villanelle by Dylan Thomas.
1914-1953.
~~~~~~~~~
Do not go gentle into that good night
Old age should burn and rage at close of day
Rage ,rage , against the dying of the light

Though wise men at their end know dark is right.
Because their words had forked no lightening they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men the last wave by crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a Green Bay.
Rage,rage, against the dying of the light

Wild men who caught and sang the men in flight.
And learned too late ; they grieved it on its way
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men near death , who see with blinding sight.
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be ***
Rage,rage against the dying of the light

And you my father there on the sad height
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Posted by Philip as a Villanelle Exercise.
December 7th 2018.
An exercise in writing a Villanelle
I used to watch Thomas the Tank Engine as a child,
now it's called Thomas the Train.

I have pictures with Thomas the Tank Engine,
not Thomas the Train.

I love Thomas the Tank Engine,
not Thomas the Train.

Why did they change it to Thomas the Train?

He's a tank engine...

He's Thomas the Tank Engine.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
Megan H Feb 2018
I walk through these days
In a blur
I question reality.
Feeling timeless
Although I am a creature of time.

And sometimes-
I wish I were an animal
Because they truly live without worry.
And then they die
But death doesn't stop them from living.

And I want that.
I want to live without the thought of death.
I don't want to die in a hospital bed like those before me.
I want to rage against the dying of the light
As Thomas once said.

And I want to love
And love deeply
And together there will be no time,
Just us.
Just until we are no more.
Time is a social construction
John F McCullagh Jan 2018
When days of future pass
and cannot come again-
Half a century seems a moment.
A loved musician meets his end.

The haunting notes you played on the flute;
those somber moody blues-
will echo through eternity
though you, yourself be through.

A treasured disk of Vinyl;
A loved, remembered song.
I played it first when just a teen
living in my parents’ home.

A Sculptor’s work melts in the rain
It’s lines made indistinct
An author, once thought popular,
may  soon be out of ink.

A film made in the golden age
is faded acetate.
The beauty of white satin nights
I hope escapes their fate.
( Ray Thomas, a founding member of the Moody Blues, has died. Their album " Days of Future Passed" was one of my first acquisitions.) 1967
Little girl, little girl
It aches merely to think of this song
About the man that sewed all your heart holes
It distorts you inside

You’re 23 but you’re such a newbie
To fall for him like this
You’re 23 but still full of naivety

Little girl, little girl
That from the beginning he means everything to you
and you mean something to him
but something’s not everything

Little girl, little girl
That he didn’t care to hurt you at all
But you are aching
Hanging on a whatsapp message
Or anything from him

Little girl, little girl
That fell so hard so high from
He became an obsession
He got in your brain wires
To death…

Little girl, little girl
He’s not what you expected
What high hopes for someone so low
It was fun in his bed
Till you lost your mind
Little girl, little girl
Fighting against yourself…

Little girl
You are a bit more older today
I wrote this poem after discovering one guy I met and I was absolutely crazy about really didn't care about me. Although I think the poem explains itself much better tHan I ever could without the help of lines and (lack of) rhymes.
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