Sestina
Here's a sestina I wrote for my class. I did it solely because my professor said they were the hardest types of poems to write. I don't know. I think trying to make things rhyme is WAY harder.
This is just a rough draft anyway. Basically a sestina is six 6-line stanzas. For the sestina you have to choose six words to be placed at the end of each line in the stanza. The words don't have to rhyme, but you need to use them in each stanza AND mix up the order. Then, after the last 6-line stanza is over, you have to use all the words in 1 to 3 lines. I chose two lines with three words each.
I played around with the words a little bit and used homonyms and near-rhymes. Feel free to comment as you will. I need to start hearing critiques again.
A Good Night’s Sleep
By Alex Barclay
Sounds echoing all throughout the night
prove it’s back again. There is no reason
that it chooses to hunt me, but that’s the thing.
Reason is lost upon it. It is terror
that it wants to relish in. It’s my soul
that it wants and why, again, it has come back.
The one rule to follow: don’t turn my back!
Any nonchalant bravado and this night
is my last. It’s a simple rule that’s sole
purpose is my safety. However, all reason
is sometimes lost to the unrelenting terror
wrought by the untimely arrival of the thing
that threatens me now. A horrifying thing
hiding within the corners of the walls, the back
of the closet, or in the recesses of the room. Terror
knows no bounds as this thing that hides in the night
plots my very demise. I think, “If I could just reason
with the thing. Perhaps show it that my soul
is not worth the hassle. It’s such a tiny soul
after all.” But no, of course, it’s a fruitless thing
to try this sort of attempt. Once again, reason
is lost upon it. There really is no turning back
now. Relinquish all hope and just let the night
take me. I'll scream in the dark as I try and tear
myself away from claws that grip and tear
into my flesh. Sinew will rip from bone as my soul
is prepared for some unholy feast. Silently the night
continues to pass as, undoubtfully, the thing
waits until my panic subsides. It waits in the back
of the room for me to relax with the thought of reason
to lull me into false security. I refuse to reason
though. Instead, wisely so, I let only terror
be my focus as I lay there alert on my back
with my eyes darting for any sign of the soul
coveting thing. In a matter of time the thing
will pounce. On I also wait into the night.
The night continues and terror blocks out reason.
The thing will revert back at the rise of Sol.
This is just a rough draft anyway. Basically a sestina is six 6-line stanzas. For the sestina you have to choose six words to be placed at the end of each line in the stanza. The words don't have to rhyme, but you need to use them in each stanza AND mix up the order. Then, after the last 6-line stanza is over, you have to use all the words in 1 to 3 lines. I chose two lines with three words each.
I played around with the words a little bit and used homonyms and near-rhymes. Feel free to comment as you will. I need to start hearing critiques again.
A Good Night’s Sleep
By Alex Barclay
Sounds echoing all throughout the night
prove it’s back again. There is no reason
that it chooses to hunt me, but that’s the thing.
Reason is lost upon it. It is terror
that it wants to relish in. It’s my soul
that it wants and why, again, it has come back.
The one rule to follow: don’t turn my back!
Any nonchalant bravado and this night
is my last. It’s a simple rule that’s sole
purpose is my safety. However, all reason
is sometimes lost to the unrelenting terror
wrought by the untimely arrival of the thing
that threatens me now. A horrifying thing
hiding within the corners of the walls, the back
of the closet, or in the recesses of the room. Terror
knows no bounds as this thing that hides in the night
plots my very demise. I think, “If I could just reason
with the thing. Perhaps show it that my soul
is not worth the hassle. It’s such a tiny soul
after all.” But no, of course, it’s a fruitless thing
to try this sort of attempt. Once again, reason
is lost upon it. There really is no turning back
now. Relinquish all hope and just let the night
take me. I'll scream in the dark as I try and tear
myself away from claws that grip and tear
into my flesh. Sinew will rip from bone as my soul
is prepared for some unholy feast. Silently the night
continues to pass as, undoubtfully, the thing
waits until my panic subsides. It waits in the back
of the room for me to relax with the thought of reason
to lull me into false security. I refuse to reason
though. Instead, wisely so, I let only terror
be my focus as I lay there alert on my back
with my eyes darting for any sign of the soul
coveting thing. In a matter of time the thing
will pounce. On I also wait into the night.
The night continues and terror blocks out reason.
The thing will revert back at the rise of Sol.