Sestina Challenge

[Remec]

Alright, so I came in this morning after work and revised the second and third bits and added in a first draft for the fifth and sixth...so, anyways....

**********


Street Music

The kids skip
along the street
Hearing the sweet
hip-hop beat
clicking fingers
as they run

Officer Jones makes the run
watching stones skip
twirling his stick around his fingers
patrolling the street
walking his beat
taking his time, sucking a sweet

The music is sweet
listen to it run
feel that beat
breath catch, heart skip,
flowing through the street
pulsing in your fingers

Flexing hands and fingers
smiling sweet
to those on the street
watching dogs run
while little girls jump and skip
to their double-dutch beat

Listen to the beat
of hands and fingers
making dancers skip
pounding a rhythm so sweet
they set off at a run
up and down the street

The world is the street
its life is its beat
the pace, the flow of the run
is more than fingers
can handle, no matter how sweet,
they can't help but skip

Feel the music run down the street.
Let your body skip to the beat.
Snapping your fingers, ain't it sweet?

 

[Angeline]

Alright, so I came in this morning after work and revised the second and third bits and added in a first draft for the fifth and sixth...so, anyways....

**********


Street Music

The kids skip
along the street
Hearing the sweet
hip-hop beat
clicking fingers
as they run

Officer Jones makes the run
watching stones skip
twirling his stick around his fingers
patrolling the street
walking his beat
taking his time, sucking a sweet

The music is sweet
listen to it run
feel that beat
breath catch, heart skip,
flowing through the street
pulsing in your fingers

Flexing hands and fingers
smiling sweet
to those on the street
watching dogs run
while little girls jump and skip
to their double-dutch beat

Listen to the beat
of hands and fingers
making dancers skip
pounding a rhythm so sweet
they set off at a run
up and down the street

The world is the street
its life is its beat
the pace, the flow of the run
is more than fingers
can handle, no matter how sweet,
they can't help but skip

Feel the music run down the street.
Let your body skip to the beat.
Snapping your fingers, ain't it sweet?

You go baby! Good on ya!

It's really not so difficult at all, is it? Tedious, like Liar said, but not so hard to write.

 

[flyguy69]

fly's a bad influence on every one - you should see the things he's got me doing!

Oh - and leave me outta this one, Ange.

No, I should see the things I've got you doing. Send pics! Unless it involves a sestina.

 

[Angeline]

No, I should see the things I've got you doing. Send pics! Unless it involves a sestina.

You need an attitude adjustment? I got a grill with your name on it.

 

[flyguy69]

You need an attitude adjustment? I got a grill with your name on it.

Sorry; already got a grill. And she's a seewty, too!

 

[Virtual_Burlesque]

You really should have a Beginner and an Expert Grade Challenge.
You hit a beginner with something like that, and she is liable to run off gibbering into the night.


Then again, gibbering, in truth, IS a thing I do quite often.

Gibbering is my only Olympic Level Sport.

 

[wildsweetone]

It's sure making me work hard. lol It took me half a day to understand the requirements (I'm a slow learner) and finally last night I managed to get the last basic words down, now I'm going through and trying to make it make sense. *rolling eyes*

It's great fun (I can say that now that I have the line requirement down - at least, I think I have it down. *gulp*)

heeeeelllllllllpppppppppppppppppppppppppp

 

[BooMerengue]

Alright, so I came in this morning after work and revised the second and third bits and added in a first draft for the fifth and sixth...so, anyways....

**********


Street Music

The kids skip
along the street
Hearing the sweet
hip-hop beat
clicking fingers
as they run

Officer Jones makes the run
watching stones skip
twirling his stick around his fingers
patrolling the street
walking his beat
taking his time, sucking a sweet

The music is sweet
listen to it run
feel that beat
breath catch, heart skip,
flowing through the street
pulsing in your fingers

Flexing hands and fingers
smiling sweet
to those on the street
watching dogs run
while little girls jump and skip
to their double-dutch beat

Listen to the beat
of hands and fingers
making dancers skip
pounding a rhythm so sweet
they set off at a run
up and down the street

The world is the street
its life is its beat
the pace, the flow of the run
is more than fingers
can handle, no matter how sweet,
they can't help but skip

Feel the music run down the street.
Let your body skip to the beat.
Snapping your fingers, ain't it sweet?

Holy Comoly, Rem!! I think thats pretty damn good!! I've never been able to do one yet. Ever since I saw this one I've been trying to do it, and nothing ever happens. It's like trying to masturbate while your kid is waiting for you to carry her to Wal Mart! It just plain pisses me off!! lol

Sestina by Elizabeth Bishop

September rain falls on the house.
In the failing light, the old grandmother
sits in the kitchen with the child
beside the Little Marvel Stove,
reading the jokes from the almanac,
laughing and talking to hide her tears.

She thinks that her equinoctial tears
and the rain that beats on the roof of the house
were both foretold by the almanac,
but only known to a grandmother.
The iron kettle sings on the stove.
She cuts some bread and says to the child,

It's time for tea now; but the child
is watching the teakettle's small hard tears
dance like mad on the hot black stove,
the way the rain must dance on the house.
Tidying up, the old grandmother
hangs up the clever almanac

on its string. Birdlike, the almanac
hovers half open above the child,
hovers above the old grandmother
and her teacup full of dark brown tears.
She shivers and says she thinks the house
feels chilly, and puts more wood in the stove.

It was to be, says the Marvel Stove.
I know what I know, says the almanac.
With crayons the child draws a rigid house
and a winding pathway. Then the child
puts in a man with buttons like tears
and shows it proudly to the grandmother.

But secretly, while the grandmother
busies herself about the stove,
the little moons fall down like tears
from between the pages of the almanac
into the flower bed the child
has carefully placed in the front of the house.

Time to plant tears, says the almanac.
The grandmother sings to the marvelous stove
and the child draws another inscrutable house.

 

[Angeline]

You really should have a Beginner and an Expert Grade Challenge.
You hit a beginner with something like that, and she is liable to run off gibbering into the night.


Then again, gibbering, in truth, IS a thing I do quite often.

Gibbering is my only Olympic Level Sport.

I used to hate form poetry. Never ever would write it--only did free verse. (Are you listening Patrick?) A few years back I met a friend here--a poet who mentored me; he has been published many times over and is in anthologies--a very gifted writer. He also taught poetry. And he said you must write form poems--they discipline you as a writer, so I tried (with the help of another poet here, JUDO) to write a sonnet. And I did. And it wasn't so bad.

And now I write both ways--form and free verse.

Also, I gibber all the time--to the point of chronic motormouthery.

 

[PatCarrington]

I used to hate form poetry. Never ever would write it--only did free verse. (Are you listening Patrick?) A few years back I met a friend here--a poet who mentored me; he has been published many times over and is in anthologies--a very gifted writer. He also taught poetry. And he said you must write form poems--they discipline you as a writer, so I tried (with the help of another poet here, JUDO) to write a sonnet. And I did. And it wasn't so bad.

And now I write both ways--form and free verse.

Also, I gibber all the time--to the point of chronic motormouthery.

you know i love you, sweet one. true, i'm drunk, but i will admit that sober.

my mentor (one of many) felt just the opposite. he thought that writing form poetry taught bad habits to a writer of free verse, by urging one to reach for the unnatural, for second or third-best, just to be faithful to the form.

if you keep pelting me, i'll probably give in, just for relief.

right now, i am too sideways to write a limerick, however.

 

[wildsweetone]

Wrote this thing and just realised I haven't got a title! hmm

Okay sorted.... Be gentle with me.

Okay, don't be gentle but respect me in the morning.




Third Watch

In a moonlit garden, crystal clear calm
A silver butterfly flits back and forth
Light breeze ruffles swaying blue bruised shadows
As black crickets sing sharing their appeal
A star studded sky, diamonds in the night
Frost wintered grass crisp, dreary damp and stark

Frangipani silhouette slender, stark
Lavender aroma, senses all calm
Ladybug lands on a leaf for the night
Duck and young off-spring silently glide forth
As the full moon glows reflecting appeal
Wispy clouds cover revealing long shadows

As the night wears on and darkness shadows
Covert nature, forbidden dreams so stark
Lady of the eve shows off her appeal
Opening primrose blossom during calm
Whispering delights, so many pour forth
Gathering musty leaved life throughout night

A more pork calls, wise fawn owl of the night
Frisky rabbits run between the shadows
An angry magpie argues, holding forth
Grey cross stands in the corner, cold and stark
Quiet stillness purveys, so very calm
Part of manicured garden’s appeal

The unruly has that certain appeal
Where the deep dark creek steals into the night
Fading forever, and when all is calm
And wickedness lies behind pitched shadows
Where black is darkness and white is quite stark
When many nocturnal creatures step forth

Tender young hedgehog snuffles slowly forth
Sniffing and nudging his earthy appeal
Then steel-grey eyes uplifted, un-warm, stark
Deep sleeping first then wandering the night
Avoiding lamplight slinking in shadows
Once soothed he’s wandering completely calm

The winter evening stark, will carry forth
That tide turning fixed calm, with great appeal
A lessening night, with fading shadows




I need to sit on this for a week.

Okay make that a month.

 

[Tathagata]

you know i love you, sweet one. true, i'm drunk, but i will admit that sober.

my mentor (one of many) felt just the opposite. he thought that writing form poetry taught bad habits to a writer of free verse, by urging one to reach for the unnatural, for second or third-best, just to be faithful to the form.

if you keep pelting me, i'll probably give in, just for relief.

right now, i am too sideways to write a limerick, however.

patrick a gent from new york
had a fondness for popping the cork
his beer in tall glasses
he'd woo all the lasses
with no worries of visits from storks

 

[Angeline]

patrick a gent from new york
had a fondness for popping the cork
his beer in tall glasses
he'd woo all the lasses
with no worries of visits from storks

i think you wanted the light verse thread.

 

[Tathagata]

i think you wanted the light verse thread.

less filling
tastes great

 

[Remec]

Holy Comoly, Rem!! I think thats pretty damn good!! I've never been able to do one yet. Ever since I saw this one I've been trying to do it, and nothing ever happens. It's like trying to masturbate while your kid is waiting for you to carry her to Wal Mart! It just plain pisses me off!! lol

Thanks...don't worry, it'll come. Prolly when you least expect it or when you're trying to work on something not even connected to sestinas in the least. <g>

This was my second, and Ange is right it gets easier each time. (For those who missed my first...which arose from the previous Sestina Challenge thread...come check it out, the voting and commentary sort of stalled. <g> Christmas Eve Disturbed)

 

[Angeline]

less filling
tastes great

Are you waiting for ee? he'll be online soon.

 

[Angeline]

Wrote this thing and just realised I haven't got a title! hmm

Okay sorted.... Be gentle with me.

Okay, don't be gentle but respect me in the morning.




Third Watch

In a moonlit garden, crystal clear calm
A silver butterfly flits back and forth
Light breeze ruffles swaying blue bruised shadows
As black crickets sing sharing their appeal
A star studded sky, diamonds in the night
Frost wintered grass crisp, dreary damp and stark

Frangipani silhouette slender, stark
Lavender aroma, senses all calm
Ladybug lands on a leaf for the night
Duck and young off-spring silently glide forth
As the full moon glows reflecting appeal
Wispy clouds cover revealing long shadows

As the night wears on and darkness shadows
Covert nature, forbidden dreams so stark
Lady of the eve shows off her appeal
Opening primrose blossom during calm
Whispering delights, so many pour forth
Gathering musty leaved life throughout night

A more pork calls, wise fawn owl of the night
Frisky rabbits run between the shadows
An angry magpie argues, holding forth
Grey cross stands in the corner, cold and stark
Quiet stillness purveys, so very calm
Part of manicured garden’s appeal

The unruly has that certain appeal
Where the deep dark creek steals into the night
Fading forever, and when all is calm
And wickedness lies behind pitched shadows
Where black is darkness and white is quite stark
When many nocturnal creatures step forth

Tender young hedgehog snuffles slowly forth
Sniffing and nudging his earthy appeal
Then steel-grey eyes uplifted, un-warm, stark
Deep sleeping first then wandering the night
Avoiding lamplight slinking in shadows
Once soothed he’s wandering completely calm

The winter evening stark, will carry forth
That tide turning fixed calm, with great appeal
A lessening night, with fading shadows




I need to sit on this for a week.

Okay make that a month.

I have to say that I really love the way you write. Your poetry is lush with the most sensual imagery. I can see, smell, touch the landscape you describe.

Yes it needs work, but it's a beautiful piece of writing--a gorgeous first effort at the form.

 

[PatCarrington]

patrick a gent from new york
had a fondness for popping the cork
his beer in tall glasses
he'd woo all the lasses
with no worries of visits from storks

that's all there is to a sestina?

this form poetry baffles me.

i think i could actually do one like this...if i tried real hard....ange would be so proud of me then.

 

[Tathagata]

that's all there is to a sestina?

this form poetry baffles me.

i think i could actually do one like this...if i tried real hard....ange would be so proud of me then.

took me years to get this just right
or is that write?
anyway

form is emptiness
emptiness is form


Oh my Sestina
We could make it together
The further from here girl the better
Where the air is fresh and clean
Oh my Sestina
Just take my hand and I'll lead ya
I promise that life will be sweeter
'Cause it said so in my dreams

Big hit for Tony Orlando and Dawn

 

[PatCarrington]

took me years to get this just right
or is that write?
anyway

form is emptiness
emptiness is form

your sestina is perfect, tath. i can see why you wanted to perfect it before letting it loose on the general public.

sestina.....pastina.....farina.....

i get these poetry forms all mixed up. i'm just not cut out for discipline.

 

[Tathagata]

i'm just not cut out for discipline.

cue Wicked Eve begging to differ

 

[Angeline]

discipline is poetry

bump

 

[wildsweetone]

I have to say that I really love the way you write. Your poetry is lush with the most sensual imagery. I can see, smell, touch the landscape you describe.

Yes it needs work, but it's a beautiful piece of writing--a gorgeous first effort at the form.

Angeline, you've made my day. Thank you for saying what you have. Last night I sat down and rewrote it, dropping the ten syllable count and already I can see a vast difference, it's much more natural - though it still needs work. I'm so glad I managed to get the form right. I've never done that before. Thank you.

 

[Angeline]

Angeline, you've made my day. Thank you for saying what you have. Last night I sat down and rewrote it, dropping the ten syllable count and already I can see a vast difference, it's much more natural - though it still needs work. I'm so glad I managed to get the form right. I've never done that before. Thank you.

You are very welcome.

I really think this form becomes an exercise in futility (or almost) if you try to force iambic pentameter on it. It can be done, I guess, but it's so hard. If you look at that one I tried to do in iambic, you'll find the meter falls apart all over the place.

And frankly, though it pains me to have PatrickC read this, it's about the poem not the form, right?

Looking forward to seeing the rewrite.

 

[PatCarrington]

And frankly, though it pains me to have Patrick C read this, it's about the poem not the form, right?

i don't think it hurts too bad.

<----for the boo boo.