This is a poem in the form of a villanelle that I wrote today about kitchens! It is written in the form of a villanelle, where the first and third lines of the poem are repeated three times throughout. Enjoy. Nahum.
Category: Closed, Fixed Forms
I Do Not Belong (Poem)
As I grow older as a Christian and experience more and more painful things, I realise that I truly am made for somewhere (and something else). Here is a poem that I wrote today which reflects this –
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‘I Don’t Belong’ (A rondeau redoublé)
by Nahum H. Sennitt (June 2023)
(All rights reserved.)
I don’t belong to this dry earth,
This cage of sin and grieving face.
My home’s not where my life was birthed
Yet ancient gardens hold my place.
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On spinning wheels like rats they race,
My friends in endless wearying work.
How do they keep such needless haste?
I don’t belong to this dry earth,
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Where men deny my salt and worth,
Where mankind thinks that life is waste
And sorrow’s drowned in empty mirth.
This cage of sin and grieving face
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Will end one day without a trace
Where skin and bone slow in a hearse
To rot in earth and tombs encased.
My home’s not where my life was birthed
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Where fathers cause their young to curse
And lead their families to disgrace,
Where love of self does work its worst.
Yet ancient gardens hold my place,
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A castle high where endless grace
Will heal me where my heart does hurt,
With vines of joy in endless taste.
I’ll dish the truth and not the dirt:
I don’t belong.
Poem for The Struggling
The following is a poem I wrote today (a villanelle). It has been written in the 1st person, as if Jesus was speaking. I wept as I wrote it because I am currently experiencing a lot of challenges. May it bless others too who are going through trials:
“Come in from the dripping cold,
My heart to fill your spirit dry.
Let me near to woo your soul.
My words speak peace and not to scold
When in your pain you scream out ‘Why?!’
Come in from the sinking cold
Where trials squeeze your faith to fold
And friends betray and breathe out lies.
Let me near to woo your soul
When Satan burns with lies he’s told
And all your strength is sapped and tried.
Come in from the screaming cold
When life just has you feeling old
And friends are all the tears you’ve cried.
Let me near to woo your soul
When fear pours down from crown to sole;
Know I am with you by your side.
Come in from the stinging cold;
Let me near to woo your soul”.
Liquørice Fjørds 