Broken - Sestina

This the first, last and only Sestina I have ever written. It was a brutal format. And I've never been sure it was a solid poem. This one from the vault

Broken, I crawl to you, dragging sins and shackles over barren ground
Offering nothing but putrid flesh and blood to satiate the hungry grave
No strength to raise my tear streaked face to Heaven
The wreckage of my life crumbling in your weathered hands
You could crush the shattered remnants of my soul
Beyond salvation, I lie lifeless waiting for your Sacred Breath

How long have you sorrowed as I wasted precious breath
Aspirations dropped like autumn leaves scattered on cold ground
My skin screaming curses and lies to fracture my temporary soul
Clawing the earth ferociously, I dig my shallow grave
Precious flesh and bone you’ve woven shredded in my taloned hands
I am lost forever falling far from your Heaven.

Yet in solitary moments you called to me from Heaven
My spirit cried out, I strained to hear your whispered breath
You broke my fall and sheltered me in your mighty hands
Dropping hope into my heart like seeds on fertile ground
You rescued me from my self made grave
You erased my shame and restored my soul

You remember the divinity within my soul
Reminding me I am a resident of Heaven
Never intended for eternal death in a shallow grave
You give me the spark of life with your Holy Breath
I am strong in you and planted on solid ground
You dress me in bridal white and cleanse this blood from my hands

And I will glorify You with every work of my hands
You are the mighty Protector of my soul
No longer condemned, I stand for you on solid ground
Sending sweet songs of adoration to Your Heaven
And I will praise You for your love with precious breath
You set me free from torment, from the grave

You remove the sins and shackles of a permanent grave
Remove the residue left by the dirty ground
And I will love you as you love me with every breath
I carry your Divinity in the center of my soul
Your precious sacrifice prepares a place with you in Heaven
My spirit soars no longer sentenced to return to barren ground

Your precious breath sets me free from the grave
Uplifted from the ground by your strong hands
The grave doesn’t claim my soul, I am yours in Heaven.

From the Vault of lost poems circa 2007/2008

TL Boehm 

Author's Note

I double DOG dare you to write one yourself: e sestina follows a strict pattern of the repetition of the initial six end-words of the first stanza through the remaining five six-line stanzas, culminating in a three-line envoi. The lines may be of any length, though in its initial incarnation, the sestina followed a syllabic restriction. The form is as follows, where each numeral indicates the stanza position and the letters represent end-words:

1. ABCDEF
2. FAEBDC
3. CFDABE
4. ECBFAD
5. DEACFB
6. BDFECA
7. (envoi) ECA or ACE

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/5792#sthash.hdHNjcC4.dpuf

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

I loathe form...(laughing) I CAN do it but I REFUSE to. Because it's like putting my favorite DOG (who I love like a child) in a cage...then letting him out only to be chained to the cage still...YOU CAN ONLY RUN SO FAR! It's too cruel to my art. And frankly...it's stuffy. I remember something from the movie, Walk The Line about Johnny Cash that I really liked. Johnny went in to play a spiritual song for the guy and he played, I Was There When It Happened...and the producer says, I Don't Believe You...and Cash gets upset and says...You saying I'm not saved? And the guy tries to tell him like this...oh I believe you believe you are saved but if you only had ONE minute left on earth and ONE song you could sing...do you mean to tell me it would be this same old washed out Jimmy Rogers number...EVEN if you were singing to God? I think every song we sing should be like our last...and every poem we write. ESPECIALLY if they are to God...which they are in a way since everything we do, we do as if to God. No...I won't be writing any sestinas...I might if I was still in creative writing class and had to do it for a grade but I'm not.

[TL Boehm]

I did it on a challenge - and you know, I am not real sure why I decided to go with a piece, about my relationship with God - it just happened that way. I loathe form too. And this one was well, like I mentioned above, like tearing off a hangnail. Love the story of Johnny Cash btw, and also - I've thought about that occasionally - what if this poem or story was the last thing I wrote?

[Mark]

Careful, Tammy, not to tell FF who challenged you, or he might block you as he did me!

[Sami Khalil]

A wonderful poem of spirituality and a wonderful acceptance of challenges...Enjoyed tremendously...:)......................

[TL Boehm]

thank you so much Sami!

[Sami Khalil]

My pleasure...:)............................

[Mark]

FABULOUS! FABULOUS! Besides myself and Markymark (long since departed) and Dylan Thomas and Rudyard Kipling, you now are the fifth writer of the Sestina with whom I am acquainted . And (as you noted at my two offerings) the ability to keep your message flowing despite the rigidity of the form is the consummate goal, which you have achieved here with aplomb!
Two minute points: In the sixth stanza, you inadvertently wrote "ground" in the second line, when you meant to write "hands". Interestingly enough, both ground and hands make sense with "dirty", and if it didn't make the format wrong, I'd never have noticed; the error doesn't subtract from the poem's meaning in the least! Secondly, you utilize a different formula for the envoy than I was taught, which utilized all six end words, 6-1-5-2-4-3.

[TL Boehm]

Thank you, Mark. I remember that writing this was just incredibly hard and when I was done I wasnt even sure if I said anything worth reading

[Mark]

The two I wrote took about two hours each--if you don't include the two YEARS before I realized that I'd omitted the envoys!-- as I began in the right margin by placing the six groups of six endwords in their appropriate order there first, then writing the lines TO them! The ideas just sort of flowed from the scriblosphere onto my page--I hardly dare take credit for them; suffice to say, they ARE based on true-life experiences/facts.
And put your mind at ease: You most assuredly HAVE written something "worth reading"!

[R J Askew]

Yikes, a sestina! I reckon writing one of these is a little like a Harry Houdini trick. I like the way you shift from despair to charismatic joy as the write progresses. So there IS meaning delivered by the discipline of the form. But once is probably enough for one of these rascals!

[TL Boehm]

Yes, it was like tearing off a hangnail.

[kmf]

thank you for explaining the intricate form; its discipline seems appropriate to this liturgical poem

[TL Boehm]

thank you. I usually don't write form - I'm a bit of a lazy poet.

[kmf]

I don't either (save occasional haiku with a sensei-friend) and don't wear corsets either (: as may be seen in my work . . . would love your input