Here's a poem. It can be read on its own or as a companion piece to 'The Martial Artist', which is also on this website. Both are best read aloud.
A Living Villanelle
Existence mustn't echo, nor the self
Reprise repeatedly his breakout role.
Rage, rage against a life in villanelle.
Define 'alive' as the inverse of 'still';
Know life is movement, either young or old.
Existence mustn't echo, nor the self:
Our consciousness should be a constant swirl,
New information churning up the pool.
Rage, rage against a life in villanelle.
When proven wrong, adjust your world. Rebuild.
Adaptable hypocrisy's the goal;
Existence mustn't echo, nor the self.
Twain's history's in rhyme; that sounds like hell.
Enslavement to prosodics, sans a soul!
Rage, rage against a life in villanelle.
I disagree with every line above.
Promoting hypocrites is not my style -
At least, not any more. The lives we love
We should return to on repeat. So while
This poem's yet to close, I'll change its voice
To match my current message: all this verse
Existence mustn't echo, nor the self
Rage, rage against a life in villanelle.
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