Villanelle villanelle

After reading my previous poem, a friend sent me a villanelle that a friend of hers had written, and asked if I had considered using that poetic form.  In truth, it had always intimidated me, so I never even tried.  But after reading the rules and a few famous examples, I decided to bravely tackle it myself.  Then, of course, I needed something to write  about.  After a couple false starts, I decided to make it an exercise by using the form itself as the theme of the poem.  So the poem isn't necessarily deep or philosophical, but ironic.  In fact, I am rather pleased with my little joke.

I don't think I can write a villanelle.
I cannot seem to fit the pattern'd rhyme
(I've given up, in case you couldn't tell)

I wander through the freeform verses well
but struggle with such metronomic time;
I don't think I can write a villanelle.

These days iambic meter doesn't sell
and I have better ways to earn my dime.
(I've given up, in case you couldn't tell)

I might try a sonnet, locked inside a cell
with bread and water, given enough time...
I don't think I can write a villanelle.

I haven't strength to strain for that brass bell
and haven't hope to hear its blessed chime
(I've given up, in case you couldn't tell)

And so I'll slouch in my prosaic hell
despairing to such mighty mountains climb.
I don't think I can write a villanelle.
(I've given up, in case you couldn't tell)


The poem that inspired me to attempt the form is here.