I, the valedictorian, crave artistic limelight.
Nestled snugly in the inky outlines
of shiny eyes, I reach blindly
for that frame on the study wall.
Until now, it was purely an excuse
to display conformist cartoons.
"You don't get anywhere, drawing cartoons."
As mama's daughter swells from limelight,
I deftly search for an excuse
to trump her placid outlines,
take them off the classroom wall -
thinking highly. Thinking blindly.
My subconscious spattering, blindly
scratching over English-class notes, cartoons
setting fire to Poe theory behind a wall.
A wall of dazed, drunken limelight
blinds the page with moral outlines.
Nonexistent pride; a tenfold excuse.
"Competition is a stupid excuse.
You got cocky with your grades, and blindly
made Margarita Maria fold; in eighth grade, behind the outlines,
you threw her hand with A's like the cartoons
that your friend draws. The ones in the limelight.
The ones up on the Theology-room wall."
It's getting to me - it really is, this wall.
I wish I were the one with the excuse
to doodle all over my PSSAs, limelight
filling in the circles for me as I blindly
replay those funny little Japanese cartoons
in my head. My dreams have blackened outlines.
They swoon over carefully penciled outlines.
"What is that? Another drawing for the wall?"
My shadow sinks, and again I see those cartoons.
There is pure supremacy; there is no excuse.
But there is also a bored freshman, tinkering blindly.
Maybe it works. Now, we share the limelight.
"I LOVE ASAKI" still leaves outlines on my ankle - I'm dreaming big, any excuse?
The memories of the wall untacked themselves. They still follow me blindly.
Through faded ink, my cartoons dream. And I embrace my corner in the limelight.
Author notes
username: narcissus at oasis
Sestina form.
For those unfamiliar with the form, it focuses on placement of words at the end of each verse rather than meter or syllabic count:
1.2.3.4.5.6
6.1.5.2.4.3
3.6.4.1.2.5
5.3.2.6.1.4
4.5.1.3.6.2
2.4.6.5.3.1
2, 5
4, 3
6, 1
Each number would correspond to a word, at the end of each verse. The last few numbers correspond to the middle and end of the last three verses..
--
This poem is about me...and my friend, who is an awesome artist. I keep trying to convince myself that we're just as good, and very different, no matter if I fail each time. This is my latest attempt. It's also me testing the waters of the sestina form.
A contest entry
- ~*~Calling all Form Poetry~*~ by CloudlessClimbs.
400 points, ended February 28, 2007, 13 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Give Me Your Personal Best #3 (Prewrites Allowed) by aGent Lemon.
360 points, ended March 21, 2007, 27 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
...your two cents, please?
Comments
-
Thank you very much for entering this contest. I may add much more of a comment later on since there are so many other submissions.
You may want to keep in mind that I will try to open more of the same contests one after another if I can earn enough feedback to do so which I must say would be truly appreciated. Altogether, I hope this will also give everybody a glimpse at one of you're favorite accomplishments which hopefully in turn inspire them to look at what else you've got.
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