So, Sparta introduced me to the Sestina form of poetry (if you don't know what a Sestina is, read this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sestina). I was immediately interested and, after a burst of inspiration this evening, I came up with my first ever attempt at writing one. I have to say that it was VERY challenging, but I had a lot of fun writing it and I'm also incredibly proud of the end result -- this is definitely in the top ten pieces of my own writing.

"The Moor"

You stole into my court, proclaimed yourself a prophet
And with due diligence wooed your way into my trust;
Pestilence you poured into my ear and, beyond repentance,
Watched as the pure goat trampled the garden of my palace.
A cuckold am I; a man no longer confident of fidelity,
Whose trust you've gained and have resolved to betray.

Though you sow the seeds of doubt, I shall not betray
My faith in love. It is my last bastion, and you, Prophet,
Weave your web to ensnare my fragile love's fidelity
And like the spider, drain from my neck all trust
I place in she, the ewe who roams the halls of my palace,
Of heart and virtue so pure, she holds no repentance.

Yet still for your treachery, you show no repentance;
It seems you have no desire but to eventually betray
All those who stand beside you and before your own palace.
Thus must my lieutenant also fall pray to you, Prophet?
At the bottom of his bottle he found in you such trust,
So as to cast his sword into the heart of fidelity.

Alas, though I tire, here still I stand to question fidelity
With pestilential thoughts, duly replaced by repentance.
It is reprehensible to suspect my fair love's trust
I hold in such high regard she could ever betray;
And though I turn, the poisonous words of the Prophet
Seem to be written in the blood of goats on every wall of my palace.

Like the tempest whose wrath hath protected Cyprus' palace,
I am ravaged by the storm of her surreptitious fidelity;
If I yet had eyes to see, she has deceived me as her father, Prophet!
She who holds high her fair head, free of repentance;
Nay, no action nor turn of phrase would sooner betray
Her lechery; A fool, I gave her nought but my trust.

What a wretched thing it is to trust,
To unknowingly live within the walls of a false love's palace --
But you, my confidant, whose counsel I could never betray,
In your eye of eyes foresaw the failing of fidelity,
And thus never had a need for the gnawing of repentance;
For your proclamations indeed have made you a Prophet.

But Prophet, you who have proven worthy of my trust,
I beseech you -- your repentance be mine and fill this palace
After I smother her; my fidelity in you, do not betray.

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Reading that article was sending me in circles, but this is great! The idea of love/temptation being bad, quite the combo! I might not be much of an analyzer, but I have passable poetry knowledge, so I'll take a crack at what you're talking about. A soldier (general? Probably wrong with this, but you mention his lieutenant getting lovesick while drunk) whose fallen in love, like many of his soldiers, and is cursing his fate, yes? He wants to be ensnared, yet hates to be so.

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)

So you chose prophet, trust, repentance, palace, fidelity, and betray. Hmm...I find it intriguing that you used trust and betray, two opposites.

This poem reminds me of "Naming of Parts". It's a poem (villanelle) about a soldier that doesn't really want to be one...the poem starts by talking about how a certain gun (I forget what one) works, but the soldier describing it keeps digressing and comparing it to flowers and butterflies. It's pretty much an anti war poem. Yeah, this reminds me of that, seeing as it is about someone that is referencing love and happiness, but at the same time might be a soldier.

This was an interesting piece, and it's really cool you took on this format. Your writing style tends to almost have an old fashioned feel to it (You use alas, hath, shall, and so on), which I find unique and intriguing. I have to admit, this may be one of my favorite pieces by you. This is something actually I might go frame and hang on my wall .

By the way, excuse me for being blatant, but are you a girl or boy? I'm sorry, I feel like an idiot for asking :blushes:.

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"Life isn't about how hard you can hit;
it's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward"
{[YT]} [|BEYBLOG|] (â—ŠSoG-My Bookâ—Š)/<DA>\

I beleive he's a boy. This is good. I for one didn't know Roan was a poet.

This poem reminds me of "Naming of Parts". It's a poem (villanelle) about a soldier that doesn't really want to be one...the poem starts by talking about how a certain gun (I forget what one) works, but the soldier describing it keeps digressing and comparing it to flowers and butterflies. It's pretty much an anti war poem. Yeah, this reminds me of that, seeing as it is about someone that is referencing love and happiness, but at the same time might be a soldier.

I've actually recently read "Naming of Parts" in my Poetry and Drama class I'm taking this semester in college.

This was an interesting piece, and it's really cool you took on this format. Your writing style tends to almost have an old fashioned feel to it (You use alas, hath, shall, and so on), which I find unique and intriguing. I have to admit, this may be one of my favorite pieces by you. This is something actually I might go frame and hang on my wall .

By the way, excuse me for being blatant, but are you a girl or boy? I'm sorry, I feel like an idiot for asking :blushes:.

The reason the language has an old fashioned feel to it is because the poem is based on the story of the Shakespeare play "Othello". Basically, the narrator of the poem is Othello, and the Prophet he's referring to is the Machiavellian character Iago. If you've ever read the play, I'm sure you can fill in the blanks from there.

I'm a guy. No need to be embarrassed about asking, it's a legitimate question, though I'm not really sure why you asked, haha.

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Double post, I know, but I just wanted to point out and laugh at whoever voted this thread 1 star... Oh, the irony.

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IKR? Don't worry, it's a 3 now. I gave it a 5. This poem deserves it.

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"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist can come from anywhere."

-Anton Ego/Peter O'Toole (1932-2013)

The reason the language has an old fashioned feel to it is because the poem is based on the story of the Shakespeare play "Othello". Basically, the narrator of the poem is Othello, and the Prophet he's referring to is the Machiavellian character Iago. If you've ever read the play, I'm sure you can fill in the blanks from there.

I'm a guy. No need to be embarrassed about asking, it's a legitimate question, though I'm not really sure why you asked, haha.

Oh, I see the reference! Cool, I like it.

Yeah, I only asked because I wanted to prove a point: even though poetry may seem like a 'girly' thing to do, most great poets are actually guys (Lord Alfred Tennyson, William Stafford, etc). Having said that. there are also many great female poets, so had you said you were a girl, the same logic would apply.

What I mean to say is that there is no set gender for being a good poet. I aplologize if this was off topic.

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"Life isn't about how hard you can hit;
it's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward"
{[YT]} [|BEYBLOG|] (â—ŠSoG-My Bookâ—Š)/<DA>\