Sestina Challenge

[Angeline]

i don't think it hurts too bad.

<----for the boo boo.

stop stalking. lol. i knew you'd be on that comment like white on rice.

 

[Tathagata]

stop stalking. lol. i knew you'd be on that comment like white on rice.

I think Condi would consider that racist

 

[PatCarrington]

I think Condi would consider that racist

even if it was Uncle Ben's?

............forget i said that.

hey tath, was that you that took a sock at Gary Sheffield?

 

[Tathagata]

even if it was Uncle Ben's?

............forget i said that.

hey tath, was that you that took a sock at Gary Sheffield?

LOL
niiiiiiice


nah if it was me he wouldn't have gotten up

 

[wildsweetone]

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.

For me it's about the conveyance of that exact feeling that I have. Being stuck between boundaries makes me work hard but I don't have enough skill to master form well enough. So for the moment, writing free is my way.
Rewrite might be up in a couple of days.

 

[annaswirls]

Butt Beer.........Ewwwwww......

buttweiser


you know the aztecs used to take their coffee up the butt, why not beer?


old butt water keep on rollin'

 

[Angeline]

buttweiser


you know the aztecs used to take their coffee up the butt, why not beer?


old butt water keep on rollin'

Do Ike and Tina know about this version?

 

[Angeline]

Done, now leave me alone.....



Modest motion claims his eyes
Discreetly dressed to draw attention
Fingers trail up stocking thighs
Pointed toe accentuates velvet curves
An enigmatic smile and translucent silk
Disguise all scent of her intent

His mind flows headless of any intent
She’s captured him with smoldering eyes
His fingers long to touch soft as silk
And share his complete attention
With lingering licks on sultry curves
His hands, clenched, press against his thighs

The simple nightgown reaches to her thighs
She lifts it slightly with full intent
To offer view of more than translucent curves
But only offer hints for his heated eyes
She wants his full attention
Focused on what she’s wrapped in silk

The smooth feel of silk
No match for smoothness of her thighs
Offered for his attention
Offered with every intent
To uncover for his eyes
A sensual feast of curves

His thoughts travel roads with dangerous curves
As she dances dressed in silk
Silent for the moment, speaking only with eyes
Her fingers trail down his thighs
Showing that her only intent
Is to capture his full attention

And she has ever bit of his attention
With lips focused on her curves
To devour her is his intent
Upon his knees, he slowly slides up the silk
Pressing his lips between her thighs
As she slowly closes her eyes



My only intent is to offer my full attention
Let me feast my eyes upon your dangerous curves
Let my fingertips think of silk as they travel your thighs

Oh and now I'm supposed to be able to sleep.

Anyway it's a sextina. I'm not sure we can technically count this as a *sestina*. You may have to write another. runs and hides

Ok, so it's excellent--you know I think you write beautifully. Did you use the Excel thingy?

 

[The_Fool]

Oh and now I'm supposed to be able to sleep.

Anyway it's a sextina. I'm not sure we can technically count this as a *sestina*. You may have to write another. runs and hides

Ok, so it's excellent--you know I think you write beautifully. Did you use the Excel thingy?

Nope.....and it took 20 minutes.......

As for writing another....

 

[Angeline]

Nope.....and it took 20 minutes.......

As for writing another....

You may be a worse show off than Hynde.

I can write a sonnet in under ten--just not necessarily a good one...

 

[wildsweetone]

Every time I look at this I change things. lol I have to say this version feels much better (more natural) to me than the first where I was intent on following the instructions. It needs more work.



Third Watch

In a moonlit garden crystal calm
A silver butterfly flits back and forth
And the breeze sways between blue bruised shadows
As crickets sing their appeal
On a diamond studded night
That gleans slate wintered grasses, stark

Frangipani, slender, tall and stark
Lavender drifts, sensor of calm
Ladybug lands on leaf for the night
As a duck family swim silently forth
While the full moon reflects its appeal
And wispy cloud cover leaves stretched shadows

Night wears on, and darkness shadows
Coveting forbidden dreams so stark
Nocturnal lady parades appeal
As a primrose blossom opens during calm
Whispered delights pour forth
And musty leaves gather through the night

Wise fawn owl calls in the night
And frisky rabbits run through shadows
An arguing magpie holds forth
With claws gripping the grey cross, cold and stark
Stillness purveys, so very calm
Manicured garden’s appeal

The unruly has certain appeal
As the deep dark creek steals through the night
Fading forever into a perfect calm
Wickedness lies behind pitched shadows
Black is dark whilst white is stark
As many midnight creatures step forth

A young hedgehog snuffles forth
Sniffing, nudging earthy appeal
Steel-grey eyes uplifted, stark
Sleeps in daytime then wanders the night
Avoiding street lights, slinking in shadows
Once soothed, wandering calm.

Beyond the stark, life is forced forth
That tide-turning fixed calm has a certain appeal
What of the night, and its deep dank shadows?

 

[champagne1982]

Six for Spring

I dreamt of my love's first kiss
on my lips, spring's fresh flower
that with today's sun will bloom
and desire's tears wet on each petal
floats fresh scent on April air
a kiss of forever love.

Ah, to sleep in the arms of love
his lips on my skin in slumber's kiss
a promise that hovers light on the air
hope waits like the bud of a flower
held close in a sheltering petal
waiting for love's seed to bloom.

A pink flush of newness in bloom
on my cheeks, the touch of true love,
lighter than the brush of a petal
warmer than my darling's kiss
all this unfurled like spring's flower
as the season breezes in the air.

Fresh notes of life float on the air
as birth blossoms with the crocus bloom
after snow to see a brilliant flower
heralding winter's secret love
carried on the promise of his kiss
revealed in the opened petal.

Look through the colour of a delicate petal
and see the brilliance of light of the air.
His face hovers close with the hint of a kiss
watch as desire makes his smile bloom
see his eyes glow with the heartlight of love
complex and graceful as tulips in flower.

My love, I will cherish this wonderful flower
and safeguard each marvellous petal
a symbol, a gift, of your generous love.
Hear the whisper I speak to the air
a promise given to springtime's bloom
I love you spoken in my kiss.

This is love, nurture it to full flower
with the gift of your kiss upon each petal
and your song on the air to guide the glorious bloom.

 

[Alex De Kok]

I blame Wildsweetone!

The Kiwi lady challenged me to write a sestina! Probably the hardest thing I've ever tried. I've chosen to try it in blank verse. It started pastoral and turned spooky on me!

Alex

* * * * *

Witchlight

A spider follows sunlight 'cross a wall,
the buzz of bees drifts loud from flower's bell,
dry tangled thorns obstruction make and bar
my passage through this corner of the world.
Now I must search, seek out another way
to reach my goal, that vision of my mind.

A witch-light thought that, careless, haunts my mind
has led me here to stand outside the wall,
the wall that bars me from an easy way
and bids me wait, to ring upon the bell,
to tell the folk within that strangers' world
a traveller seeks a way to pass the bar.

They open wide the gate, no longer bar,
welcome me in, seeking to know my mind.
As yet I cannot tell, because their world
is still too strange to me inside their wall.
The gate behind me closes at the bell,
blocking the route for those who pass this way.

Yet very few there are who come this way.
They fear there is a purpose to the bar.
To them the sound of doom-song is the bell,
sounding the knell that acts to blur the mind.
But now I am within the much-feared wall
and still there seems no need to fear this world.

I look to see the people in this world
and no surprise, they seem to be the way
that others are, those folk outside the wall.
Those folk who fear to risk the dreaded bar,
fearing that something strange will tear their mind
apart, that death will follow on the bell.

But now, I hear the ringing of the bell,
calling to those who populate this world,
bringing a cloud that lulls and blurs the mind.
A cloud that cloaks and hides the God-lost way
these people live, protected by the bar
between their world and those outside the wall.

My soul shrieks loud, the witch-bell shows the way
the demons of this world, inside their bar
will shred my mind, and tomb me in their wall.

 

[Angeline]

The Kiwi lady challenged me to write a sestina! Probably the hardest thing I've ever tried. I've chosen to try it in blank verse. It started pastoral and turned spooky on me!

Alex

* * * * *

Witchlight

A spider follows sunlight 'cross a wall,
the buzz of bees drifts loud from flower's bell,
dry tangled thorns obstruction make and bar
my passage through this corner of the world.
Now I must search, seek out another way
to reach my goal, that vision of my mind.

A witch-light thought that, careless, haunts my mind
has led me here to stand outside the wall,
the wall that bars me from an easy way
and bids me wait, to ring upon the bell,
to tell the folk within that strangers' world
a traveller seeks a way to pass the bar.

They open wide the gate, no longer bar,
welcome me in, seeking to know my mind.
As yet I cannot tell, because their world
is still too strange to me inside their wall.
The gate behind me closes at the bell,
blocking the route for those who pass this way.

Yet very few there are who come this way.
They fear there is a purpose to the bar.
To them the sound of doom-song is the bell,
sounding the knell that acts to blur the mind.
But now I am within the much-feared wall
and still there seems no need to fear this world.

I look to see the people in this world
and no surprise, they seem to be the way
that others are, those folk outside the wall.
Those folk who fear to risk the dreaded bar,
fearing that something strange will tear their mind
apart, that death will follow on the bell.

But now, I hear the ringing of the bell,
calling to those who populate this world,
bringing a cloud that lulls and blurs the mind.
A cloud that cloaks and hides the God-lost way
these people live, protected by the bar
between their world and those outside the wall.

My soul shrieks loud, the witch-bell shows the way
the demons of this world, inside their bar
will shred my mind, and tomb me in their wall.

What a hauntingly lovely (and haunted!) sestina!

You know you keep this up Alex, we're gonna start calling you a poet.

 

[Alex De Kok]

What a hauntingly lovely (and haunted!) sestina!

You know you keep this up Alex, we're gonna start calling you a poet.

I have enough trouble writing prose that nobody reads, without getting into poetry that nobody reads, but thanks for the kind words. It was an interesting challenge, and fun, sort of . . .

Alex

 

[Angeline]

I have enough trouble writing prose that nobody reads, without getting into poetry that nobody reads, but thanks for the kind words. It was an interesting challenge, and fun, sort of . . .

Alex

Hey I read it and I'm not nobody and I liked it, too. Better watch out, lol--wildsweetone may be on to something.

 

[Angeline]

Truth anchors the axis of hope in my eyes.
I spin in your arms, in your caramel trees,
sweet sheltering under faith’s canopy. Leaves
whisper our secrets, lift them in breeze, caress
human frailty to hush us past fear. You rain
on the open earth of me, and I sown with seeds

will flower in time. Seasons spring from seeds,
moments emerge from our chrysalis eyes--
days burn equatorial, the chill night of rain
forests tears on our windowpane. Willow trees
sway summer stoic, winter thin, yet we caress
these turnings of world for as each day leaves,

time falls to silence, trust is prodigal. Leaves
that abandoned branches will return in seeds
sown wild. Sprigs rooted in memory’s caress
bud tender, blossom anew in our eyes.
I dreamed you my climber in a stand of trees,
and flew here to you, pine-shadowed in rain.

It raineth every day. Our days were a rain
of trial; still I subscribe to your pleasure. Leaves
can not withstand autumn’s fading plea, trees
bend or snap in a Janus embrace, yet seeds
open under hard frost. I've thawed in your eyes,
their need and contrition. Subscribe to my caress

humbly Petrucchio, as I submit to yours. Caress
these days fallen not in sin but cleansed by the rain
of promise, the purity tears that pool in our eyes
to wash tremulous sorrow from asking who leaves.
Why question the rainfall that nourishes seeds?
We’re no parched ground, but a groundswell of trees,

an unending growth, sapling lines of new trees
that are learning to find in each storm one caress
of a wind that may scatter the humblest of seeds
to a new earth that yields in a nurturing rain,
for we have remained in lined veins of new leaves
and we have sustained on the hope in our eyes.

New seeds have been planted, a rebirth of trees,
a horizon in eyes that have learned to caress
falling rain, to refrain, never asking who leaves.

 

[champagne1982]

bump in the night for the sexy six...

 

[BooMerengue]

bump in the night for the sexy six...

hmm... I forgot all about this thread.

TY, Champ! Are you in?

 

[Angeline]

bump in the night for the sexy six...

Your sestina is called Six for Spring--prophetic little word slut aren't you?

You wanna write Six for Autumn?

 

[BooMerengue]

Your sestina is called Six for Spring--prophetic little word slut aren't you?

You wanna write Six for Autumn?

I wonder if it's a good thing to continue a thread where things like this get said...

"only here could a chicken with a beer can up its butt stand for dignity."

and...

"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"

I was thinking 6 people, each bringing one word to the party, and be responsible for that word all the way through.

toenails is NOT a good word. IMHO, of course.

 

[wildsweetone]

what's wrong with 'toenails'? the word's a noun isn't it?