Sestina Challenge

Sestina is a 39-line poetry and one of the most complicated types of poetry.
For this competition, I just want a 3 stanza Sestina, because I understand the complexity and difficulty of writing one
It follows a strict pattern of the repetition of the first six end-words of the first stanza through the remaining five six-line stanzas, culminating in a three-line envoi.
Here is how the rhyme scheme follows

1st para :ABCDEF
2nd para: FAEBDC
3rd paragraph: CFDABE (It need not go beyond the 3rd paragraph, but if you can pull of a proper 7 stanza Sestina, then brownie points)
4. ECBFAD
5. DEACFB
6. BDFECA
7. (envoi) ECA or ACE


For Example: Here is the simplest form of 3-stanza Sestina

I love the ocean (A)
It is deep and beautiful (B)
It has so much meaning (C)
and organisms breathing (D)
I wish I could be a creature (E)
Of this wild beautiful Nature (F)

It wouldnt be in my Nature (F)
To not worship the dynamic ocean (A)
And to observe its breathing creatures (E)
Swimming in the unknown, so beautiful (B)
My heart overwhelmed it has stopped breathing (D)
Of this infinite life, I question its meaning (C)

I don't understand how the world moves without meaning (C)
So infinite is mother Nature (F)
She carries every organism that is breathing (D)
The trees, the forests, the rives the ocean (A)
She carries them on her shoulder, her babies, so beautiful (B)
Lovely, adorable, amazing creatures (E)


Rules

- New or Old entries are Okay (mention if the entries are old)
- 2 entries per person maximum
- Strictly follow the rhyme scheme shown above (ABCDEF pattern)
- Any theme, any topic.
- Can't be of any length, it can either be half a sestina (3 paragraphs, 6 lines each or the entire 39 lines. 7 paragraph sestina, your choice)
- Please think it through, it might be tougher than you realise
- The paragraphs should connect in a way..can't be disjointed meaningless paragraphs.

This is a thought experiment, a brain exercise, of sorts. Jog your absolutely creative brains a bit, have fun.

Wonderful Taryn..Thanks for kicking it off my darling

an untitled sestina ~

there's hunger beneath my skin
coiled so tightly around my aching bones
that i long once more for your massacre,
to be sweetly slaughtered by you again
and find relief against cruel fingers
before you pick my remains from your teeth

my cherry ooze stains your teeth
tearing violently at my soft skin
until i bleed against wanton fingers
from the saccharine marrow of my bones
i dare you to, darling, kill me again
and leave me lying in the massacre

come, embrace the massacre
urged by desperately searching fingers
still wanting, needing the torture again
bury your disease deep beneath my skin
so i might cradle you in fractured bones
and tear your throat to shreds between my teeth

don't prise away your fingers
from my stuttering moan-song massacre
break the knife edge off against brittle bones
hear agony hiss from between my teeth
dance in the gaping wounds in satin skin
and sing those black velvet verses again

leave me in pieces again
grasping little shards with trembling fingers
leave me with your name carved deep on my skin
and destroy my heart in your massacre,
leave me pulling splinters out with my teeth
where memories are pyrographed on bones

come, rest in my barren bones
i'll cradle your familiar weight again
caress your cinnamon hues with my teeth
just bleed yourself out between my  fingers
darling, i'll love you like a massacre
or a violent storm beneath your skin

pet my weary bones with gentle fingers
sleep again, tomorrow we'll massacre
with sharp teeth dripping venom on to skin

Whoa, dear aarti, my being dyslexic, the structure of a Sestina can be quite the challenge.  However, I'd like to give it a go depending on how much time we have in this competition.  Can you tell me the deadline please?  Thank you very much.

Btw, already the comp has taken off with a flying start... and not just the 3-stanza option!  My hat's off to everyone who has already shown some pretty impressive chops - and inkings! *grins and nods*

Jade-Pandora, I empathise with you, being a patient of dyslexia myself..But I would say taking up challenges like this will help you fight all odds. That is also the reason I have kept 3-stanza leniency. The deadline is the 6th of January, so you have ample time. Write it on a piece of paper first, it helped me.

The Lioness Collared

There is a tugging gravity on heart.
While his gaze has brought me to my knee.
Yet i suffer to loose in me what is mine and primal.
Though i fear my succumb to his beautiful damage done is final.
Yet feel my hearts release of this drowning pressure,
will come undone in a shackle of souls.

And we begin this journey of souls.
A search for understanding of
our lions hearts.
He grants me absolution from my soul confusion and eases my pressure.
And in great grattitude i bend to knee.
And suckle his piété until his spending pleasure is final.
His moans of a lions release are primal.

As well his growlings of thanks are primal.
A gutteral salutation from his animal soul.
Then he speaks sweet command and it is final.
"You please me always and i will give shelter your heart."
"And i shall love you on your knee."
My love swelled against gravity's pressure.

This yen to love yet yang pain of pressure!
My desires frustration flare so primal!
I beg his forgiveness on my white knee.
I beg him "Please forgive my torn soul."
He lifts my chin "Search your shackled heart."
"Return to me when your décision is final."

Their is such surrender in the word "final."
I believe such surrender will free my heart's pressure.
And i look deep into my lioness heart.
It holds the she of me that runs free and primal.
Can i wear a collar on her and keep her soul?
May she run free while i am on knee?

I see this Master does wish i come freely on knee.
So I freely crawl back to him my surrender final.
He looks at me with love "I knew already when i saw your soul."
"Ease your eyes kitten, it's gone, all pressure."
"Your collar does not mean you do not keep what is primal."
"I love you for your lioness heart."

I fall and he enters me with glorious pressure.
We cum together, our pride screams are primal.
We have bound together free of heart.

A Wilde Life – In Six Parts

Dear Oscar said that everything is sex,
But sex, and sex he said was lust for power,
I think to some extent that he was right,
But somewhere in this Holy Mess is love.
Or “love’s desire” if that’s more right for you
For so life’s spent in such pursuit for me.

But every tried success was fail for me,
Although I found certain success with sex,
But when I think of life’s success it’s you,
For you ran quick before I stole your power,
(all hidden in my warped pursuit of love).
To run, of course, your life has proven right.

But with you gone I thought my anger right,
And I began drunken pursuit of me.
Delivered up foolish pursuits of love,
And love became a raw pursuit of sex.
In music, booze, and sex I sought my power,
To push myself from every thought of you.

All while you sought the betterment of you,
And followed through on all your heart thought right,
In fearlessness, I never knew that power.
Reached out at times and tried to contact me,
But all I wanted from you was your sex,
And when denied cried unrequited love.

Headlong for death pursued in name of love,
And blaming every stupid move on you.
Convinced myself there was no love just sex,
And all my friends convinced me I was right.
So one bad night I put an end to me
(To kill myself required greater power).

But that life ends and with it that life’s power,
And with that, sought less harmful brand of love.
I settled in a duller form of me,
That finally sealed off the door to you,
With different love that’s safer, if not right.
And nights pursued with boring, safer sex.

So, yes, it may all be pursuit of sex,
Except for me that never made it right,
For me was always right pursuit of you.

aarti said:Jade-Pandora, I empathise with you, being a patient of dyslexia myself..But I would say taking up challenges like this will help you fight all odds. That is also the reason I have kept 3-stanza leniency. The deadline is the 6th of January, so you have ample time. Write it on a piece of paper first, it helped me.

Thank you so much, Aarti, your advice is not lost on my.  In fact, all of my life I've played mind games with myself to do that very thing... to develop the wiring of my brain to crossover many challenges - including my writing of course - which has carried me through numerous times, and I've always been better off when I realize I've developed another connection in a complexity.  In the case of the Sestina, that's exactly why I wrote that "cry" for help because I want to try, but the order of how to do each stanza was getting the best of me as I read each entry that's come in so far, and right off, trying to follow the order of the line breaks would muddle me very early in the reading.  I hope I'm making sense.  Even discussing my dilemma is a trigger for my dyslexia.  I will lavish the time allowed for this competition and work on something in short bursts.  I've got one of my field journals at hand for opportunities when I need to scribble another blurb towards what I hope will be my first Sestina ever.  -- Gratitude, Jadey <3

Jade, I am not dyslexic, and it took me 5 journal pages of what looks like the weirdest algebra ever just to work out the "math" before  I  wrote a single word. My heart goes out to you....

I send best thoughts...

Hepcat61 said:Jade, I am not dyslexic, and it took me 5 journal pages of what looks like the weirdest algebra ever just to work out the "math" before  I  wrote a single word. My heart goes out to you....

I send best thoughts...

Why thank you so much, Geoff, how your words and your heart have touched mine.  I should be able to post my sestina shortly (I stayed up all last night to achieve the full 6 stanzas with the envoi).  I'm excited, and I too send you my thoughts which I hope helps.  -- Gratitude, Jade(y)

p.s. and congratulations for posting your entry despite the algebra! <3

Ode To Mrs Mandela


When foil hats and triangles come to a boil
the last laugh, will live longer than the first
those who scream in loud voices, yielding fists
of fury and anger; Build headlines with worldly twists
Dreaming of an everlasting free life
controlled by none other than a willing wife

She would be a goddess, to be the wife
An emotional attachment, not one to put eggs to boil
a person who dreams of the shared life
who puts all else behind, but her kids are first
her presence sends the earth in spins and whirly twists
holds all love and peace in her firm clenched fists

The police guard carry the son, with blood drenched fists
on stretchers past the tearful wreck called, wife
her body breaks and her mind escapes, her soul twists
like a red blurred puss fleeing facial boil
many children die, to change the world; this is her first
she would fly through the milky sky to exchange the life.

These are the times, we search for a meaning to the life
we cry tears of drenched mascara into our skinny fists
leaving smudged tattoos of black blue ink, like its a first
encounter with the love that will one day be the wife
while our souls await judgment, wanton to come to boil
enthusiastic yet scared spiritless at the steam that twists

Rivers of blood served us well, traveling in pools and twists
through trees, forest rainfall, killing all that steps in it's rapid life
falls down falls and bubbles below, like a pot of water on the boil
Tribesmen stare at the curdled blood, grabbing  drops in open fists
silence fills the midday air, cracking for a moment, announcing the wife
Hearts cry blood in tears of pain, she screams like this is their first.

Campus kids went chanting, firmly believing they were first
danced circles, called for freedom, with pirouettes and twists
they called for peace, for love, for the wife
They called for less torture; escape from slavery life
used the symbol we all knew to well, arms held high in fists
spoke like kinsmen, brought hardened tempers to the boil.

Sometimes the strength of a idol is held in the heart of a wife
She who made symbols from the placards and deadly fists
Who brought systems to fall and authority to a deadly boil.


-x-

LEATHER


Mistress comes and he whimpers lying on his back naked
moist-eyed and face flushed and fingers digging in
boot heels tap their cadence as she slowly struts around
expressionless observing his every gleaming curve
dragging a studded belt down at her side to brush
the polished wood floor near her pet's sweating form

causing him to twitch with each nerve of his form
she stops to look down at his paleness naked
and vulnerable to be touched gently with a brush
of her leather-gloved hand, each finger tight in
their hand-stitched sheathes while they curve
into the hollow of his arousal and wrap around

the boy gasps his heart leaps his breath a brush
of exhalation catching rapidly looping around
the moment a balance of time held still in
increments of fervent looks and furrowed brow that form
her crimson mouth in an oath exposed and naked
the lightning of her serpent is sent flying in a wide curve

the bite of its black studded leather flails him naked
of more than being unclothed to endure in
sadistic turnings of her corseted body around
to fling herself down against his spine's bare curve
her fever is what he wants to serve with his brush
of a flame to stoke the conflagration of desire's form
 
he presents himself to her open and willing curve
to please her and reward him his joy to brush
aside his fear with the love of a boy naked
for her pleasure of leather and blood to come around
with his hairless sex and that perfect rare form
stifling a cry from the sodomy of her strappy going in

she's got him he feels her it shows on his face to brush
into sub space his flight that weaves around
evoking flashes of galaxies to float in
while Mistress leans back hard-fucking his form
her own domme space taking her into him naked
to shudder and cum-wrapped tight to her curve

the circle complete where a trust begins to brush
away the webs of doubt to invoke a bond in
a life most find mystical where we are free to be naked




Like the sonnet, the sestina dates back to the Middle Ages,
was adopted by the Italian poets of the Renaissance (Dante and Petrarch),
and is often used by contemporary poets.