He tries his hand at versifying
I had pencilled in a session of verse-writing back in the cell. I had in mind a poem about my gorgeous cycle to work each day along the Thames. It was to be dedicated to my marvellous sister, Jaedra. However, other not so attractive memories thrust themselves forward.

Happening upon James Fenton’s * description of the sestina, I was immediately attracted to the form – though I'm not sure why.

At first, I thought the end-words of the first stanza had to be integrated into the envoy only. It was a surprise to discover that they are used in the end and beginning-lines of the five stanzas as well. Back to the drawing board.

As with admired Kipling, and his Sestina of the Tramp-Royal (and so much of his Boer War verse), I planned to use the vernacular, hoping to contrast it with the voice’s more regular English, hoping it might encourage empathy.

Of imagery, I hope the message is clear. Perhaps I should have been more shadowy – dungeons packed with depressed, affection-starved men are very dark, barbaric places indeed, as England knows so well to her shame.

I was determined to avoid easy end-words for the first stanza, though that created a challenge for the envoy. I had to cheat a bit, hoping that an attempt at humour might allow it to work. The envoy is supposed to have only three lines but I called on a little poetic licence by adding a fourth.

*James Fenton, An Introduction to English Poetry, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, New York, 2002 A present from lovely Iris Davies a year or two back, and appreciated greatly.


Sestina:
Penal Paradiso

The gates sweep back, rake, and gaping wide, gulp
all down the vast edges drear onto naked
shingles where dogs, gross as grislies, demon-
grinned, vampire-eyed, drooling hate from wolf fangs,
guard guards in naval uniforms who bark
‘’Oos next. ’Oos next. Mind, I’ll beg just once more!’

2
‘You there, oi, knees-knocker, trep’dation more
should of fought ‘bout it afore doin’ it.
Cannot do the time, do not do the crime.
Name, number? ‘Ere watch the yeller lime.
Don’t cross the yeller lime what’er you do.
Welcome to flagship HMP Naked.

3
‘Si-ir? Not sir! App’lations ‘Guv’ at Nak’d
Me ‘Guv.’ You ‘con.’ Your first time, your start
in crime? ‘Sperience says so. You got rights.
You ain’t convicted yet, but I got rights -
to ‘and out horders. Come on, act the part!
S’posed to be a con. You ain’t a demon- …

4
‘Strative one. Under ‘fluence was you? Demon –
stratin’ of some drug? Tampered as a kid?
Wait there. Next! You, fat lad!... ’ ‘’ow’s it, Sid?’
You ain’t ‘alf pastie, like pizza dough flung
As if you didn’t know your luck’s sprung.
As if forgot blessin's in scope of bark.

5
‘Welcome to the genui-wine sounds, the bark
of Pearly Gates.’ He smiles, he’s contented,
no terror, no sweat, no lie fermented
in the throat deep as to the lungs, upbeat,
reeking loos and Maori maze*. I, defeat,
amaz’d just clutch my pain, cringe, avoid the fangs.

6
‘I fink you forgotted a missus’ fangs
who this morning could do no right? That nice
what’s-it sings? Nuvver day in Paradise.
‘Ell out there. ‘Eaven in ‘ere. No forlorn
maids ‘ere. Winter’s close, it’s warm, no birds’ scorn
no griping missus ‘ere. Tis Paradise.

Envoy –
‘Beds warm, gulp food hot, no demon girls come
To moan. No mates beggin’ for the fare home.
Visits bring you naked cash. You say fangs
That iron barks no more on a nick hangs.’

*Referring to the Maori custom of ‘maturing’ maize in sacks under water. The odour when the process is over is very – gasp! - powerful.

Good friend Paddy V in Missouri (via Wanganui), an accomplished writer of great iambic pentameters and thought-provoking haikus, nudged me into disclosing this on the blog space. To all yawners, apologies.
The sestina is a highly structured form of poetry, dating back to the 12th century. It consists of thirty-nine lines; six six-line stanzas ending with a triplet. There are no restrictions on line length, although, in English, the sestina is most commonly written in iambic pentameter or in decasyllabic meters.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sestina