2011 P&Q Idol [Lu's contest ] FINAL ROUND

Three poets fought their way through "THE RHYME", "THE PACKAGES" and "THE FIREBALL"
and now stand before us for the "SESTINA"

One of the most intimidating forms of poetry to me is that of the Sestina.

I did one a while back for Courageous Dreamer's Ultimate Battle Of Poets contest and I must say I found it to be very difficult.

So for the final three contestants here is your challenge.

--------- THE SESTINA ---------

Sestina
The sestina is a strict ordered form of poetry, dating back to twelfth century French troubadours. It
consists of six six-line (sestets) stanzas followed by a three-line envoy. Rather than use a rhyme
scheme, the six ending words of the first stanza are repeated as the ending words of the other five
stanzas in a set pattern. The envoy uses two of the ending words per line, again in a set pattern.

First stanza, ..1 ..2 ..3 ..4 ..5 ..6
Second stanza, ..6 ..1 ..5 .. 2 ..4 ..3
Third stanza, ..3 ..6 ..4 ..1 ..2 ..5
Fourth stanza, ..5 ..3 ..2 ..6 ..1 ..4
Fifth stanza, ..4 ..5 ..1 ..3 ..6 ..2
Sixth stanza, ..2 ..4 ..6 ..5 ..3 ..1

Concluding tercet:
middle of first line ..2, end of first line ..5
middle of second line ..4, end of second line..3
middle if third line ..6, end of third line ..1

RULES
------
- Poems are due Thursday March 10th 6PM (my time)
- No bonus points (from me)
- There seems to be a few different ways of writing the concluding tercet but I am looking for the exact one as below.

Concluding tercet:
middle of first line ..2, end of first line ..5
middle of second line ..4, end of second line..3
middle if third line ..6, end of third line ..1

JUDGES
-------
Each judge will gift (1-3 BPs) Minimum of 1 .. Maximum of 3 per poem based on ...

- Originality throughout
- How well you followed all the rules of the form.
- Strength of your chosen ending words.
- Imagery
- Spelling

NEED A LITTLE HELP?
http://www.shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/sestina.html

So good luck poets
Get ready, set, go, your time is ticking away !

Haha ! oh GOD..Luanne..you are unbelievable lol!!

You want the finalists to have a heart attack, right? Ha ha ha, owww this looks so difficult.

Good luck finalists!

The clock is ticking .... tick tock tick tock

Anyone who has been eliminated may go ahead and post their poems to their account.

This round sounds like a ton of fun. Guess I will have to give this form a try! :] Glad I'm not in this round though! :P

I'm curious to see how our poets tackled the Sestina!

The Sestinas have arrived ....
Because the lines of all the poems are very long I am very unsure how these will post.
So I am crossing my fingers they will post as the writers intended.

A very difficult and challenging form, trust me I know.
Wonderful job to all three finalists !
~claps~

These will be sent to the judges and the results posted within the next few days.

POEM 1

All I own

All that I own was cradled on the moon,
a heart shape locket cast
in befuddled fury and a pen
worn by the torture of my writing,
that was too mournful for
even song birds to sing.

And I feared not that they would sing,
of times when lady beetles nibbled a moon,
who was abandoned by all she stood for,
and polluted by all I had cast -
the feeble nonsense of my writing
Spoken by a rejected pen.

They ask me why I write of a pen
and its bitter voice who can no longer sing,
or create emotion in my writing
that is fueled by a porcelain moon,
who mothers all that I have cast -
all I once stood for.

Twas a summer night when you'd ask me for,
the words written by a drunken pen.
The one I said I was going to cast,
til it would no longer be able to sing,
of the sunken moon
whom had perched itself on my writing.

Though with all the babble of my writing,
I could not ignore all I stood for -
The hope the sun would embrace a moon
to throw back to me a bitter pen,
and make those words able to sing,
of a heart shape locket I had cast.

Though I speak of what I have cast,
I have no reason in my writing,
other than to say that I could never sing,
of a man who abandoned all I stood for,
and helped me place my withered pen
and my heart upon the frosted moon.

To the heart shape locket cast - by all I stood for,
who was tortured by my writing and a bitter pen,
I give to you a song bird to sing, as you slumber 'pon the moon,

POEM 2

Completion

Struggling through the mist of time
A mortal being acting on its force of will
to fight inner temptations, it strives, yet can not
Oh yearning soul, your beckoning arms wait
to hold the complementing spirit it longs for
but do they know, life will not wait for anyone.

The deepest desire for intimacy speaks to anyone
who has ever loved and lost their love to time
Tongues reciting the names of those they yearn for
living on memories, acting upon their will
to regain the soul that makes them wait
trying to relive the past, although they cannot.

In his hand the leafless stem of a forget-me-not,
unable to share his wishes with anyone
Captured by emotions, he lies in wait
while the clock ticks away time
heart and soul surrender to his will
to have the one being his spirit craves for.

Silent tears on pallid cheeks, he sing for
his Aphrodite. To turn away he can not
spellbound, he has lost his will
to share his feelings with anyone
Cradled in dreams, free of space and time
enslaved by her beauty, she makes him wait.

A soft voice inside tells him not to wait,
but to go after the one he longs for,
to not allow himself to be defeated by time
"it is a matter of to have, or to have not.
If you want success, don't rely on anyone,
it all boils down to courage and strong will"

"I will lead the way, take my hand if you will,
Love does not come to those who wait,
Idle anticipation never proved successful to anyone
You have to go after what your heart longs for
To dare and confess your feelings to her..or not
and be a lonely drifter, lost in the mist of time."

"Act out your will, and fight for whom you long for
Don't expect life to wait, my friend, for it will not
Love is there for anyone, who knows how to defeat time"

Author's note :
The ending words of the first sestet also form a line.
This poem is inspired by "Touched By An Angel"by Maya Angelou

POEM 3

Love's Epiphany

As fragile wings glide in the sky encrypted with hope,
her mind reminisces of a tale told twice illustrating love.
Naive eyes carried a fairytale of cliched proportions - faith
masked with dreams sprinkling innocent desires to believe.
A soul once painted with rejection yet beamed power,
now stumbles on the steps of learning to forever live.

How can a lackluster heart once more find desire to live?
When confusion was her only friend cloaked behind hope.
Each emotion was tucked gently away with all her power,
for she wished to never feel anything but his burning love.
She was a master in her craft to trick a mind eager to believe,
to clench at any virtue deemed worthy and sketch it faith.

Uncertainty was now a dear colleague reeking of faith.
His smile embraced the sole reason she sprung to live,
but now clawed at her nightmares in a search to believe.
Recollections are no longer gently sown with velvet hope,
for the emotion she longed to feel held false pretense - love.
Now the shadows in his eyes clenched on to power.

What constitutes a dream to freely dance with power?
Is it her undying devotion to eagerly breed blind faith?
For those eyes whisked a fairytale she scripted as love.
A kiss stained her neck with venomous lips thriving to live.
For only in storybooks do romantics harmonize hope,
and she no longer wishes on a faded star - to believe

When every ounce of a spirit flees an ache to believe,
the only embrace during midnight is clinging to power.
Melodic hummingbirds forever frantic to instill hope,
each tune smothered by his lips with the intent of faith,
and as her bones crackle in an attempt to finally live,
she remembers why the journey was malignant - love.

It wasn't his smile that lead her astray from courteous love,
or her eager need to firmly stand perched and to believe,
that to walk when the clock strikes twelve is a way to live,
and every wish is bathed in the celestial soothing power.
For even bloodshot eyes can ring hazel and engulf faith
as she sips on scarlet memories with a wavering hand - hope.

"Your love held my power,
to believe not just faith,
but that to live one needs hope."

Wow, splendid job! These three poets really have great talent and I can't wait to see what the judges have to say. I also can't wait to see who everyone is! :]

Wow great job everyone!