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February 13, 2011

sestina = not my fav.

Well for my poetry class on Tuesday we have a sestina due. Sestinas are extremely restrictive when it comes to organization. They are definitely not one of my favorite types of poems!


For those of you who don't know what a sestina is, they're pretty confusing! They are made up of 6 stanzas that are 6 lines each. Each stanza has to use the same ending words...


I'm not making any sense haha it's really hard to explain! But anyway, you'll get it once you read it.


Here's mine!




Bath Time

He could remember the time on the clock
and the way her hair fell across her eyes.
A repetitious pitter-patter of rain was falling
across the window like a transparent drum beat
and he laid there like a dead man,
a corpse with a lifeless heart.

It was mysterious the way it worked, his heart.
It ticked monotonously like a clock
Every pump of blood making him the man
that was caught behind his mysterious eyes
and the water around him rippled with every beat
like the rain that continued falling.

He never knew that falling
would lead to a run-away heart,
one with a struggling, starving beat.
And the minutes passed on the clock
and lightening reflected in his eyes.
He was hers, he was alone, he was human.

She was the one that made him a man
The push that sent him falling
yet she caught him with her eyes.
She had a vice like grip on his heart
And he thought their love was like a clock
that would forever tick in a metronome beat.

Bleeding battered and beat
He was a shriveled mess of a man
and the time on the clock
was frozen and free falling
aiming at his thumping water logged heart
that pumped life into his shrouded eyes.

She had risky come get me eyes
that had a swing-dance beat
and her piercing stare punctured his heart.
He was her only man
and she left him with tears falling
that inky night when it read 3:04 on the clock.

It happened in desperation, a tub of water and clock.
The electricity sent sparks like a bullet into his heart.
Now all that’s left is a moss-covered tomb and the withered up bones of her suicide man.




get it? cool. 

1 comment:

Ashley said...

It may be restrictive, but it turns out pretty cool! I've never heard of that type of poetry before. Don't think I'll be teaching that one to my third graders any time soon! : )