Showing posts with label Sestina. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sestina. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

America The Meager (sestina revised) For poets who don't believe in editing!!!



Alive burning with fire consumes me                                                               
Ready freedom burns me                                                                    
World full of disputes                                                                                     
House of ill repute                                                                                          
Esteem pollutes forbidden fruit                                                                       
Pursuit of dreams                                                                                            

American happiness is not pursuit of dreams                                                   
American dream a lie, fire consumes me                                                          
Covered clotted cream, forbidden fruit                                                                       
Deceit, the lie of the American dream burns me                                             
Life in the house of ill repute                                                                          
Americans drenched in disputes                                                                      

Freedom from consumerism                                                                            
Important to pursue the dream                                                                       
Caught up in ill repute                                                                                    
Desires feeds disputes                                                                                     
Dirty hands burn me                                                                                       
For sale, buy my forbidden fruit                                                                      

Can’t hide away forbidden fruit                                                          
Lust consumes me                                                                                          
Thirst so strong, it burns me                                                                           
Cravings coerced, reimbursed dreams                                                             
Yearnings lead to disputes                                                                               
Borne and bred of ill repute                                                                            

Iraq, Beirut, wars of ill repute                                                                         
Oil the biggest forbidden fruit                                                                        
Observing abuse consumes me                                                                        
Obliterating abuse causes disputes                                                                  
Inflicting suffering drowns dreams                                                                   
Blues burn me                                                                                                 

Trickle-down abuse burns me                                                                         
Weak forced to accept ill repute                                                                     
Eradicates man’s right to dream                                                                      
Access to achieve forbidden fruit                                                                     
Denials of basic rights consume me                                                               
Animal abuse and pollution, root of many disputes                                         

Equity and decency consume me, fear burns me                                             
Disputes, hurt heart, search escape from ill repute                                                      
Forbidden fruits multiply wealthy; cancel out poor man’s dreams       


***
Oftentimes as editor for the TCSR, people will send me poems to ask for thoughts or advice. When I honestly point out a misspelling or misuse of word, or give an example of what could improve the poem, i.e. changing a few words around, the biggest response I get is "I don't believe in editing my poems. The poem comes out the first time the way it should be." 

Well, here is the proof that it really helps to work on a poem, to edit errors, and to reconsider word usage. It makes a difference. 

As you can see, in the earlier version, inadvertently I used consume twice in two lines in one stanza which led to repetition, and since this form is essentially repetitious in its form, it works better to use a different word ending for each line of each stanza. 

Any thoughts fellow poets?

Friday, September 20, 2013

AMERICA THE MEAGER (sestina)

Alive burning with fire consumes me
Ready freedom burns me
Disputes consume me
House of ill repute
Esteem pollutes forbidden fruit
Pursuit of dreams

American happiness is not pursuit of dreams
American dream a lie, fire consumes me
Covered clotted cream, forbidden fruit
Deceit, the lie of the American dream burns me
Life in the house of ill repute
Americans, wish I weren’t consumed

Freedom from consumerism
Important to pursue the dream
Caught up in ill repute
Desire consumes me
Dirty hands burn me
For sale, buy my forbidden fruit

Can’t hide away forbidden fruit
Lust consumes me
Thirst so strong, it burns me
Cravings coerced, reimbursed dreams
Yearnings consume me
Borne and bred of ill repute

Iraq, Beirut, wars of ill repute
Oil the biggest forbidden fruit
Observing abuse consumes me
Obliterating abuse consumes me
Inflicting suffering drowns dreams
Blues burn me

Trickle down abuse burns me
Weak forced to accept ill repute
Eradicates man’s right to dream
Access to achieve forbidden fruit
Denials of basic rights consumes me
Animal abuse and pollution consume me

Wrenched heart, fear consumes and burns me
Equity and decency consume me, searching escape from ill repute Forbidden fruits multiply wealthy citizens; cancel out poor man’s dreams



This is written in sestina form:
1st Stanza   ABCDEF 
2nd Stanza  FAEBDC
3rd Stanza  CFDABE
4th Stanza  ECBFAD
5th Stanza  DEACFB
6th Stanza  BDFECA

The last 3 lines are formatted thus
AB
CD
EF

Friday, November 13, 2009

SESTINA OF LIFE

Crisis is either way you lose
different from win some lose some
Gotta keep plugging along
light at the end of the tunnel
a new moon wilderness
my heart, a song of desire

my psyche is brimful desire
momentarily mine, a life lost
new spring & full moon wilderness
Just a little more, more time some
times life is like winding tunnels
gotta keep plugging - moving along

I don’t follow others, I move along
to my own beat, why admit what I desire
Is it there at the end of this tunnel
If I can’t see I’ll surely get lost
again even if sometimes I win some
This city is just like a wilderness

wild flowers, blue birds, mosquito wilderness
and danger lurks so best choice all along
not always clearly heard say some
Pretend to have or not have desire
There are only painful losses
hidden away in underground tunnels

skin deep vicissitudes tunneling
to surface; a wild card in a missing wilderness
of light, Ye of little faith, you can’t lose
I’ve known it my entire life, all along
Finally, the truth! My heart’s desire
I’ve come into my own; I’ve come into some

O.K. I’m content it’s this much, then some
Found there while digging an underground tunnel
solidified in old accomplished signs of desire
on the sun’s desert moon of the wilderness
scent of bergamot trailing along
Nostalgic gazes fazing ambitious loss

loss doesn’t mean I don’t have some
left like our lives tumble along a tunnel
of love and encompass a wilderness of desire

© 2007 Joy Leftow

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Sestina Of Life

Crisis is either way you lose
different from win some lose some
Gotta keep plugging along
light at the end of the tunnel
a new moon wilderness
my heart, a song of desire

my psyche is brimful desire
momentarily mine, a life lost
new spring & full moon wilderness
Just a little more, more time some
times life is like winding tunnels
gotta keep plugging - moving along

I don’t follow others, I move along
to my own beat, why admit what I desire
Is it there at the end of this tunnel
If I can’t see I’ll surely get lost
again even if sometimes I win some
This city is just like a wilderness

wild flowers, blue birds, mosquito wilderness
and danger lurks so best choice all along
not always clearly heard say some
Pretend to have or not have desire
There are only painful losses
hidden away in underground tunnels

skin deep vicissitudes tunneling
to surface; a wild card in a missing wilderness
of light, Ye of little faith, you can’t lose
I’ve known it my entire life, all along
Finally, the truth! My heart’s desire
I’ve come into my own; I’ve come into some

O.K. I’m content it’s this much, then some
Found there while digging an underground tunnel
solidified in old accomplished signs of desire
on the sun’s desert moon of the wilderness
scent of bergamot trailing along
Nostalgic gazes fazing ambitious loss

loss doesn’t mean I don’t have some
left like our lives tumble along a tunnel
of love and encompass a wilderness of desire

Thursday, April 05, 2007

TWISTED, A SESTINA OF LOVE

Everything always seems to be twisted
Nothing is the way we’d expect
If I want one man, I get another
I should be happy and get what I like
If I can’t be with the one I love
I should give my love to the man I’m with

It’s better to give my love to the man I’m with
Than to try to love someone who will twist
my heart; a strange phenomenon, this thing called love
The one I get is never who I would expect
him to be. Do you think we ever get what we like?
It’s a big mess, first one lover then another

He’s not endeared to her, he wants another.
She wants him and not the one she’s with
It’s so confusing, no one gets who they like
Mind is like a monkey, grasping and twisting
from one branch to the next; never where I’d expect
It to be especially when it comes to finding love

I sometimes wonder, is there true love?
Or could it be one man as well as another?
Who can fill the gap, meet my expectations?
Can I meet a love eternal and stay with
him forever to an end with no twisting
fate? Can he stay with me and like

what I do? Or should I expect that he’ll only like
What I don’t like? Should I freely give my love
Without worrying that our love will twist
To hate? Then instead of him I’ll seek another
Man who I shall repeat this cycle with
until it’s finally over when we least expect

I should realize it’s stupid to expect
Anything to turn out the way I’d like
and in the end be with who I want to be with
And the one I love would just love
me, Only me and wouldn’t want another
just me unless he became mean and twisted

Twisting my heart, then he’d expect me
to find love with another like the one before who I liked
With whom I was so happy before things got so twisted

© JL written in 1981 at Columbia U writing class