I’m wearing a divine herring,
and the herring is wearing me;
this god-like fish is glaring,
simply staring back with glee.
An oddly stranger bearing
a scaly beast of sea
produced the crimson herring
and pressed it upon me.
Were I predisposed to caring
I might’ve cared to take his name,
but taking in his carrying,
I took his name in vain.
He cast the fish, declaring
it “an idol wholly great,”
so, forced, i took the pairing
and also took the bait.
I’m wearing a divine herring,
and the herring is wearing me;
this god-like fish is glaring,
simply staring back with glee.
The worst is not the wearing
(though a god piece can look silly);
your life’s shaped by its bearing,
like a codpiece frames your willy.
The fish does force his sharing,
spinning pious thoughts, beliefs.
A nightmare is this herring,
spawning on without release.
My soul he is now chairing,
laying right from wrong.
A constant, searing blaring,
I’m prostrate to his song.
My world apart is tearing
from gossiping with fish.
I’m tempted, almost daring,
to serve him up as dish.
Warmed in a pan uncaring
of matters heaven sent,
a hellish hand preparing
wafts a heaven scent.
Devouring of herring,
I find myself alone.
And when I do comparing,
prefer him as fish bone.
Now silenced, no fish bearing,
unattached, myself can think.
And I, without despairing,
can choose which fount to drink.
But here comes another carrying
a similar gift from sea:
a cruel and scarlet herring.
The man reaches out to me.
I’m wearing a divine herring,
and the herring is wearing me;
this god-like fish is glaring,
simply staring back with glee.
–
Confused? Don’t worry, it’s all explained here.
OMG is this a villanelle!?! You are a genius!
One might wonder
why in the hell
you know such terms
as villanelle.
By the way, it’s
too many lines
for that form, but
it’s got the rhymes.
You also didn’t do quite the right scheme in the last quatrain or whatever. But you could change it to a villanelle if you wanted. I think that would give it some heft.
And I was a poetry major in college.