My Mind Runs The Show And My Body Can't Keep Up
Posted: Monday, May 18, 2009
by David Pekrul
The following poem is written in the form of a "Sestina".
A sestina is defined as a highly structured poem consisting of six six-line stanzas followed by a tercet,
for a total of thirty-nine lines. The same set of six words ends the lines of
each of the six-line stanzas, but in a different order each time. These six words then appear in the tercet as well, again in a particular order.
The sestina was invented in the late 12th century
by the Provencal troubadour Arnaut Daniel. Elements of
it were quickly imitated by other troubadours, such as Guilhem Peire Cazals de Caortz.
My Mind Runs The Show And My Body Can't Keep Up
In those very few moments just before rising,
my Mind is busy with things that must be done,
as it plans the day ahead and organizes my time
into smaller segments that will fit into place,
then decides how I can do each one,
so that by nightfall, I will cross the finish line.
It reviews each activity line by line,
as it watches until it sees the sun rising
in the east, then my Mind and body become as one
machine, ready to reach its goal, until all is done.
I eat my breakfast at the very same pace and place
I do each day, and then rush to my tasks to be on time.
I try to concentrate on each thing, one at a time,
so as to be organized and keep all things in line,
but this is no easy task to keep things in their place
and I feel a loss of control and my blood pressure rising,
but I must stay at it so that I can get them done
and not be left short of doing the very last one.
But why the importance to finish every single one,
not allowing some things to be left until the next time,
instead, wearing out the machine, trying to get them done?
This is no more than my Mind trying to keep me in line,
taking control of the machine, to stop my will from rising
and doing the things I desire, in this or any place.
"Everything in its place, everything in its place,
one by one - one by one - one by one."
This mantra fills my ears and the sound is rising
ever louder, deafening me as I rush to finish on time,
line by line - line by line - line by line - line by line,
and the machine is breaking down, trying to get them done.
But what will be the penalty if things are not done,
and the consequences if they are not in their place,
and what can my Mind do if I step out of line,
nothing, for I have a will that answers to no one,
not to my body, nor my Mind, nor the dictates of time,
and with this realization, I feel my courage rising.
I step to the back of the line and relax, for I am done
working. I watch the rising sun come from its place,
knowing that I am the one in charge of my time.
If this article is used in any publication, please send a copy of the publication to David Pekrul at
E-Mail:dpekrul@gmail.com
Thanks for the info. It sounds in the arena of David Manning White's "Eternal Quest" The search for God. I recall at Wayne State years ago when the argument began in Law School about a mentally Ill individual created a heinous crime. One says, Mentally Ill, let him off and the other says, put the body in jail for collaborating with the mind. If I had known your title then...smile...Thanks Dr. Rucker,That is an interesting judgment "put the body in jail for collaborating with the mind." It sort of shows just what a complete thing we human beings really are.Thanks again for reading my stuff and for your comments.
Hi David.Thank you very much. I learned a lot from you today. This is a truly difficult and complex form of poetry but I will try to learn how to do a Sistena. It probably would take me forever to write a poem using this form but I have you as my inspiration. LOL. You are a true Troubadour!More power to you. Thanks again for sharing your knowledge.Best regards.Sincerely,Nenita(your avid fan)Thanks Nenita,This poem is only my second attempt to write a sestina. My first attempt was a complete disaster. The order of the last word of the lines is like this:1 2 3 4 5 6 - End words of lines in first sestet. 6 1 5 2 4 3 - End words of lines in second sestet. 3 6 4 1 2 5 - End words of lines in third sestet. 5 3 2 6 1 4 - End words of lines in fourth sestet. 4 5 1 3 6 2 - End words of lines in fifth sestet. 2 4 6 5 3 1 - End words of lines in sixth sestet. (6 2) (1 4) (5 3) - Middle and end words of lines in tercet.It is best to look up Sestina on the internet for examples. Good luck.If you do write a sestina, please submit it to SearchWarp so we can all read it.
Here is one from Damon Mclaughlin:Here in this bleak city of Rochester,Where there are twenty-seven words for "snow,"Not all of them polite, the wayward mindBasks in some Yucatan of its own making,Some coppery, sleek lagoon, or cinnamon islandAlive with lemon tints and burnished natives,And O that we were there. But here the nativesOf this grey, sunless city of RochesterHave sown whole mines of salt about their land(Bare ruined Carthage that it is) while snowComes down as if The Flood were in the making.Yet on that ocean Marvell called the mindAn ark sets forth which is itself the mind,Bound for some pungent green, some shore whose nativesBlend coriander, cayenne, mint in makingRoasts that would gladden the Earl of RochesterWith sinfulness, and melt a polar snow.It might be well to remember that an islandWas blessed heaven once, more than an island,The grand, utopian dream of a noble mind.In that kind climate the mere thought of snowWas but a wedding cake; the youthful natives,Unable to conceive of Rochester,Made love, and were acrobatic in the making.Dream as we may, there is far more to makingDo than some wistful reverie of an island,Especially now when hope lies with the RochesterGas and Electric Co., which doesn't mindSuch profitable weather, while the nativesSink, like Pompeians, under a world of snow.The one thing indisputable here is snow,The single verity of heaven's making,Deeply indifferent to the dreams of the natives,And the torn hoarding-posters of some island.Under our igloo skies the frozen mindHolds to one truth: it is grey, and called Rochester.No island fantasy survives Rochester,Where to the natives destiny is snowThat is neither to our mind nor of our making.Choose your 6 end words before you even begin the poem or just write a sestet and go from there...Per DamonThanks for sharing this one with me, it's great.
David,I liked the poem, but you totally lost me on the style! So, please, forgive me as I will just enjoy it without trying to figure out the poem's structure!Hi Lorrie,I can totally understand why you aren't able to figure out the poetry style.This is a very complex style; at least it is to me. This is only my second attempt at this style; my first was a total disaster. It is, obviously, not a rhyming poem. The style is based primarily on the ending words on each line. If you look on each line, you will see that the end words repeat themselves in each stanza, but in a different order. The order of the ending words is in a strict format. You can see this format if you look at one of my earlier comments. It may not look like real poetry, but it is, in fact, a strict poetry style, and believe me, it is not easy to write.Thanks for reading and commenting. I think I've got you hooked on poetry.
Great article. Well done.I am quite impressed that you managed to write in Sestina without going mad. It must have taken longer to write than usual.Yes, this one took about an hour and a half to write. I wrote one a few months ago, but dumped it because it was really dumb. I enjoyed the challenge and will try again sometime to write another.Hope you enjoyed it.David
