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I hate writing this poem.
I like to write, don’t get me wrong,
But I do not like writing this sestina.
It’s hard to manage, you know?
To come up with a poem that is whole,
How am I to pull this out of thin air?

This thing makes me want to swear.
What idiot invented this kind of poem?
So picky about what’s right and wrong,
How do you make it not full of holes?
No matter what I do they say “No. No,
That’s not a correct Sestina.”

6 lines in 6 paragraphs: this is a sestina.
6 words in a pattern; and you have to make them pair,
But how to do this I just don’t know.
Taking out the rules makes a much more enjoyable poem,
Just writing not worrying about making holes
And since it’s just for fun it’s never wrong.

I’m sure there is to a way that’s not wrong.
There must be a way to do a good sestina.
A way to see it as a complete whole,
But against the professionals how can mine compare?
Against these published authors my little poem,
If mine is good; will I even know?

Wait, I will know.
Because I will not do it wrong.
I will write it well, this poem
I will write it so I can be proud of my sestina
And I will do it without having to swear.
My writing will be a good whole.

More then a proud whole; a majestic whole.
When I finish it I will know
As simple as breathing air.
To get to the pint where right and wrong
Crumble under the prestige of my sestina.
Yes this will be fine poem.

I will pour my whole heart in this poem
And I know it will be right not wrong.
The despair is gone, here is my sestina.
Writing a Sestina

So I've been cleaning out my old documents and I found a bunch of old poetry that I've decided to post here just because.

This was an assignment for a poetry class, we were to write a poem in a different style then we'd ever heard of before. This definition of a sestina is "
A sestina (Old Occitan: cledisat [klediˈzat]; also known as sestine, sextine, sextain) is a fixed verse form consisting of six stanzas of six lines each, normally followed by a three-line envoi. The words that end each line of the first stanza are used as line endings in each of the following stanzas, rotated in a set pattern.

The invention of the form is usually attributed to 12th-century troubadour Arnaut Daniel; after spreading to continental Europe, it first appeared in English in 1579, though sestinas were rarely written in Britain until the end of the 19th century. It remains a popular poetic form, and many continue to be written by contemporary poets."

I was having so much trouble with this, I wrote 4 and dumped them before I started writing this just to blow off some steam about how hard writing in this style was. I was really surprised about how much the teacher loved this. 

The first time we saw her I said no at first
Her paws were so big on her little body
And I knew that like my own large feet and long fingers
This was a sign that she would go from small and cute
To very large, very quickly
But it was too late; my sister had already picked out where she would sleep
And my brother already had a dozen names picked out
Not caring that none of them where girl names
Her brown eyes and her little floppy ears
Her tail like a helicopters blade;
Round and round in circles, not right to left like most dogs.
She won us over within 5 minutes
Despite all the times her tail whacked into someone’s leg like a fur covered whip
We took her home that very day
I was right, by and by she grew
We got her in the summer when I returned for Christmas
She almost knocked me over when she jumped up to greet me
Well it’s too late now
She is a part of our family, fixed in with extra strength glue
Sometimes I wonder what she dreams
She turns over in her sleep
Whimpers, and even moves her paws like running
Though I doubt she is chasing rabbits
She has never seen a real one after all
She is long and slender, and is a gazelle when she jumps
But transforms into a fly when she hits the ground
Impossible to catch or to keep in the yard
When she runs count yourself lucky if you catch a glimpse of a paw or tail
But when still she disappears from sight all together
Her caramel-coffee fur blending perfectly with the rocks of our yard
No. Her yard.
She owns that yard, make no mistake
Now if only we could get the squirrels to understand that

So I've been cleaning out my old documents and I found a bunch of old poetry that I've decided to post here just because.

American poetry

Whatever it is it must have
The grit of ether a hyena or a sloth
It doesn’t matter which

You posses a potters wheel
Or a broken mirror
Or a hundred fractureed reflections
Just stop whining and do

American Poetry II

Whatever it is it must have
The grit of ether
A hyena’s fierce pursuit
A sloth’s steady climb
It doesn’t matter which.

It is made on a potter’s wheel
Looking into a broken mirror
Or within one hundred fractured reflections
Just stop hesitating and jump.
American Poetry

So I've been cleaning out my old documents and I found a bunch of old poetry that I've decided to post here just because.

How do you make a decision about a dead man?
The situation is complicated or maybe it’s not.
I’ll try to make it simple for you.
I fold paper cranes at work - simple enough.
I don’t do anything big or intricate,
Just folding scrap paper into cranes when I grow bored.
Walk in and you can see my cranes all over the room
Every desk and cabinet has one or two, some have four.
Green and red, white and cream, plus black, even pink,
Dark blue is popular and sometimes yellow and sky blue.

Actually there is only one sky blue crane.
It sits in Kenneth’s “In” box.
After he died I thought about changing it,
Putting a black crane there instead,
But I decided against it.
It seemed like the kind of gesture only a friend could do,
And I really hadn’t known him that well.
I can’t remember if he liked my cranes
Though I remember everyone else thought they were cute
And never minded when they turned up next to their computers.

It’s possible he didn’t even notice the crane -
He wasn’t doing much work towards the end.
I think I gave him the blue crane to brighten up his desk
The only other color on his whole desk
Was a poster for a college football team from Louisiana.
That’s gone now - his family took it down.
Packed it up and took it along with the rest,
Though they left the crane.

So I've been cleaning out my old documents and I found a bunch of old poetry that I've decided to post here just because.


It’s after dark
The last remnants of reds and yellows have left the horizon
It’s when the evanesce of the sun is complete
First you see the glow of the fireflies buzzing about
Just as the earth turns away from the great blaze
Then the bats come out to play across the sky
Watch them dance in unbound joy as they feast
On insects and the freedom of the inky black
Look up at the stars sparkling like sliver sequins on a black silk dress
And the unclouded moon reflects off of the cat’s green eyes
Midnight; When you lay down your head to dream
Of what may come with the next dawn
This is the world of the witching hour
When nothing seems real yet everything is so clear
Wait. Soon the light will return and maybe you will understand
Because what happens in the dark is hidden but only until then
When the sun will rise, for the sun will rise, and the shadows will fade
The colors will return to the horizon, the fireflies to their homes
The bats sink down to the ground,
Taking the bright moon with them under their wings
When you lift up your head to greet
The sun, the new day and all that you must face
The dark has gone …for now
Until the next sunset
When once again the little ones can play and you can hide. From everything.
Night II
So I've been cleaning out my old documents and I found a bunch of old poetry that I've decided to post here just because.


United States
I Finally Have An ID!

Current Residence: America
Favourite genre of music: I listen to EVERTHING
Personal Quote: I’m not afraid of falling, it’s stopping that worries me.

I haven't posted proper art to this page in years. One of the things I wanna do now that I have a real job is take up drawing in my free time again. But it might be some time before I can post some of my new stuff so I give you the old stuff that I found when digging around trying to find my unused sketch books! I'd forgotten about most of this stuff. Some of it is unfinished projects or school stuff which is why I never posted it before but hey nostalgia.
  • Mood: Bliss

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imajanaeshun Featured By Owner Mar 19, 2015  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you for the Favorite! :)
LinaZhou Featured By Owner Jan 4, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you for the fave on my Altair fanart!
It means a lot to me. Llama Emoji-02 (Blush) [V1]
LorenzoLazioCreed Featured By Owner Dec 14, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for faving! ;)
ryu-ren Featured By Owner Dec 22, 2014
Thanks for making such cool stuff! 
fictograph Featured By Owner Nov 10, 2014  Professional Filmographer

Thank you so much for favoriting my Sherlock art:

Have you seen Season 3? John’s moustache was so gross...

ryu-ren Featured By Owner Nov 11, 2014
it just looked wrong on Martin Freeman. Jude Law looked good with one but not him. 
fictograph Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2014  Professional Filmographer
It's a giant blonde catepillar.
J-Cat Featured By Owner Nov 16, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks for the :+devwatch:
Jakfan15 Featured By Owner Oct 31, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
:icontransparentplz: :happybounce: :party: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! :party: :happybounce:
Retrodragon Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2013
Hey are you happy it is summer. :)
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