Craft
The fine art of failure comes naturally to me
don’t know if it’s genetic, or some voodoo curse,
stumbled so many times, you just wouldn’t believe.
I’d be lying if I said I never did grieve
metaphors fumbled, images over-nursed,
the fine art of failure comes naturally to me.
Put my missteps in a jar, a basket of coarse weave,
in a pine casket carried by sleek black hearse,
stumbled so many times, you just wouldn’t believe.
Could give in, put up my pen, enjoy the long sleep,
but to give up and not try would be even worse,
the fine art of failure comes naturally to me.
One day, sober and of sound mind, I’ll see
hard-fought success overflow my purse,
stumbled so many times, you just wouldn’t believe.
What will that look like, victory? Verse free
of artifice, scans like still water, lines taut and terse,
yes, the fine art of failure comes naturally to me,
stumbled so many times, you just wouldn’t believe.
11 thoughts on "Craft"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Clever and poignant. The form frees the poem. And we must embrace our failures, no? Well done, Bill!
Yeah ! I was coming to say that.
You pegged the feeling
and made it whole.
“Clever and poignant. The form frees the poem. And we
Another great poem” b.v.
I love the jar of missteps
choice of villanelle makes for a perfect match to the poem’s self-doubt
“I’d be lying if I said I never did grieve
metaphors fumbled, images over-nursed,
the fine art of failure comes naturally to me.”
Incredible. I agree with Gaby, the form elevates the tone perfectly.
Love it, Bill. I share your frustration at how damn hard it is to write a good poem, especially a formal one. Glad you can make such sweet lemonade out of it.
A villanelle captures your thoughts well! But maybe you expect perfection instead of go with the flow!
lol: “The fine art of failure comes naturally to me”
yep: “images over-nursed”
adore: ” missteps in a jar, a basket of coarse weave,
in a pine casket carried by sleek black hearse,”
I have yet to do a villanelle well. You do it well!
Yes, skill takes some mighty (and humbling) hours and hours of care, creativity, and failure. Your poem resonates beautifully!
Wonderful! “I’d be lying if I said I never did grieve” — You can’t have any grievances in this one. (Or in any I’ve read!)
Beautiful sound— and I could hear your voice clearly.
Agree with what others have said about form meeting function so nicely. I appreciate the internal rhymes and message, as well.