literature

Contained? {sestina}

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Literature Text

: Written by Tim Wallace / Geld the Nudist 2005.
: Blighted Isle Publishing / Geld’s Nudist Colony.
: Blighted Isle 2005.


I stare off into this hole in my soul, produced from pain,
A black patch on my heart that I wear on my sleeve like my shame,
I’m sure to be forgotten, like ex-girlfriend’s names,
The blame can only be passed unto me, and with that I strain,
To keep a foothold on this life that I try to maintain,
Strive to survive as I decide what I want to contain again.

Back from oblivion to witness me wane again,
People passing with perseverance, pushing their faces to my windowpane,
Watching my being collapse and contract with a strain,
They can’t see who I really am; they just snigger at my name,
Look on as I fall apart, voyeurs with positively no sense of shame,
Complain as I contain these pieces of me in an effort to maintain.

This game seems the same; I can’t ascertain how I could ever maintain,
My mind’s broken, my body seems lame, it’s all happening again,
It’s just me, bleeding and alone on this dusty plain, in pain,
Drained of all ability, enmity and emasculation incorporated in my eyestrain,
Never searched for this fame and yet I disclose my name,
I guess it’s the vain hope of trying to contain this shame.

I used to be void of most feelings, refrained of shame,
I passed blame, as it couldn’t obtain a place in me to maintain,
But somehow my brain has attained this emotional frame again,
And now I’m this shade of a person, encapsulated by pain,
A male, plain Jane under this convulsive strain,
Trained to contain feelings, now they’ve destroyed my name.

The voices say they’ll take everything; my name,
My lack of fame, my thin frame, and replace it all with shame,
Everything I’ve gone through, will be nought next to the pain,
And after that’s been applied, I’ll be afflicted with it again,
Soon to be driven insane, my new mental state will maintain,
And shortly all that’ll remain will be my already contained past strains.

I miss her much; my heart can’t take the strain,
In her clutch we were one and the same; she used to whisper my name,
Under the realisation that time moves fast, no room for shame,
Life is temporal, but love is constantly surveying a way to maintain,
Existent. Contained. She had me at eternity again,
But took, I’ll always love you away and left me with this pensive pain.

My brain’s shattered with contained pain, heart strings tattered under strain,
It’s a shame; your involvement was just a game to contain disdain for my name,
A cheap feign, to maintain why it’d be better that my contained heart should never be loosed from it’s constraints again.
first and foremost... i'm not too blame! i was reading a lovely sestina by the overly-talented , and i thought the arrangement of a sestina was too good not to try...
i really did endeavour to write something happy, but unfortunately i was listening to more Amon Tobin, which forced out these depressive rantings! so i apologise! someone was also talking about making a sestina rhyme was too much work, so i tried... lemme know what you think...
oh and throughout my researching on the sestina i noticed that almost every poet does it differently... so i just went along with how Jennifer told me it should be structured... blame her if you must!

i'm not 100% on it yet, there may be a few changes taking place... the envoi has changed like three times already, and it may morph into something else again... meh anyways...
© 2005 - 2024 GeldTheNudist
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Chri$t Almighty! Lookit all the respones you have you sly devil! Gotta be loving that. Listen, about your ex...man, let that ho go! I dwelled on a bitch for a long time, wrtiting much painful verse about this skeezer. Then a few years later I threw them all away because she didnt deserve my attention. So whatever....lol, my little worz of wisdom and whatnot. Your style is hot sun.....you stay with it your gonna be dope as fuck!