[stylist] Sharing my earliest sestina House of Cards

[Bridgit Pollpeter]

I really like this poem. It resonates with me, and I feel very drawn
into the landscape of the poem.

Once you start working with form, poetry can be daunting, at least to
me. The few poetry classes I had to take were not always easy, but I
came away with such a renewed appreciation for poetry and words in
general, which ultimately are the poet's greatest tool. I have so much
admiration for those of you who can work within the various forms of
poetry.

This poem has such a haunting quality. I also like the references you
make with the imagery. This is a poem that will definitely stick with
me.

Sincerely,
Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter
Read my blog at:
http://blogs.livewellnebraska.com/author/bpollpeter/
 
"History is not what happened; history is what was written down."
The Expected One- Kathleen McGowan

Message: 14
Date: Mon, 2 Apr 2012 18:13:53 -0400 (EDT)
From: KajunCutie926 at aol.com
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: [stylist] Sharing my earliest sestina  House of Cards
Message-ID: <2c9bc.614ec040.3cab7ea1 at aol.com>
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With all the talk of Sestina's today I wanted to share with my first  
attempt written about 8 years ago.  At the time this so taxed my brain
and  I 
wasn't sure I would ever attempt another but of course, I did.  I have  
attached it as well. I do hope you enjoy this very feeble attempt.

House Of Cards
(sestina)
 
Once upon another time she lived
In a fragile house of cards.  She  knew
Only that she was sheltered, never heard
The winds of change that  silently
Blew against the coated-paper walls 
Of her blissful existence,  until it crumpled.
 
She found herself alone amid the crumpled
Ruins of the life she had  known, no longer lived
Behind the sanctity of sacred walls
Which kept its  secrets.   Innocence knew
It would die in shame, silently
Lying in  the ruins of her being. Unheard.
 
The Knave had claimed he heard 
No denial or admonition and she  crumpled,
Allowing the lifeless cards to fall silently
One by one.   In darkness lived 
The Kings and Queens.  Only Innocence knew
Evil  had shattered the paper walls.
 
She picked through discarded walls
Searching for treasured Innocence but  heard
Only silence.  Laughter, she knew,
Lay buried in the life now crumpled
And yet she survived.  She  lived 
To carry the secrets within her silently.
 
And time, in its fashion, ticked silently
Within her soul.  She  woke one day to find walls 
Of Faith where debris once lived.
Was that the  whisper of promise heard 
>From beneath the dreams crumpled?
Could she  regain the life she once knew?
 
Again, time flexed its knowing muscle for it knew 
That some things must  be borne silently 
And without reprieve.  The life lost in the  crumpled
Ruins would not return to thrive within the walls
Of yesterday.  Truth's hammer clearly heard 
As it rang through dreams not  lived.
 
And in her soul she knew, that no longer would walls
Stand by silently,  ignoring the whispers heard
While the house crumpled, burying what once  lived.
 

? March 2004