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  • Writer's picturesebastienwoolf

Sestina Poem

I decided to try my hand at a Sestina poem this week, which proved to be a lot more challenging than I initially envisioned. The challenge is to pick six words, and then end each line of the six stanzas of this poem with each of these words in different places at the end of certain lines. Then, just to make things even more confusing, the seventh stanza contains two of these words in each of the three lines to finish. Oh, and before I forget, I also wrote this with six words on each line, just to challenge myself even more.

Here's the first draft.

* * *

m a s q u e r a d i n g

Anarchist misfit, umbra Joker of night

lil’ Red, pale skin wrapped body

love, lost in the dark, adieu

sacred, is your short shallow breath

as you journey on Icarus wings

Who’ll save you at the fair?

Aristocrats, front row at the fair

imps of mischievousness hunt at night

cause a flutter of Firefly wings

illuminate truth’s light on your body

the wolf grunts, still, feral breath

secrets, snicker of lies, bid adieu.

Time, the Hare’s contrivance, bid adieu

illusion, maniacal fun of the fair

the Wolf craves your silky breath

yearns for unfettered stillness of night

bite of cane strips, brittle body

renewed so poetic on angel’s wings.

Love is fire, scorched Phoenix wings

cunt, dry as barren desert, adieu

dark wolven lair rests his body

menagerie stage tricks at the fair

Love is war, energetic at night

the Chupacabra he steals your breath.

Strongman’s applause, short is your breath

the grey Buzzard unfurls his wings

shakes off the fabric of night

with soft lily hand, bid adieu

to carousel rides at the fair

in thrall to the sadomasochistic body.

Pangs of guilt cleanse your body

cigarettes and cocaine choke your breath

top prize won at the fair

Wolf plucks, picks at your wings

your ragged wound and spread, adieu

You, now belong to the night.

Hare’s timepiece is attuned to night, La Catrina she guards your body,

Life, as you know it, adieu, as the carnival swallows your breath,

Winces and cries float on wings, the Wolf, is not ever fair.

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Exciting news, one of my poems just placed second in recent University of Auckland poetry competition. Read more on my Patreon page >>>

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