[stylist] Sharing my earliest sestina House of Cards

Sat Apr 7 21:02:29 UTC 2012

Lynda,
You have asked us to try a sestina. I have written only one. I had the same
difficulties that most have enumerated. I added another difficulty also. I
thought they had to be in iambic pentameter. I sent it to my sister to
critique, since it is a very controversial subject. She had no problem with
the contents, but condescendingly said, "Well, you will do better next
time." It is a sister thing!
I am doing an attachment only as the ones pasted in so far have been
fractured as to form which does not do justice to all of the hard work
involved.
Regardless of whether you believe that sexual orientations develop in the
womb, perhaps I will try another sestina if I get any encouragement.
This poem is the result of a best friend having a son who came out as gay in
his graduating year from high school and went on to become a well-known
doctor. He was a proxy grandson to my mother when I took my three little
boys to Africa for five years.
I entered this in a contest just once. Arizona is a very close-minded place.
Much of what I write is controversial, and I have avoided sharing most of it
with this list so far.
Jackie

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Lynda Lambert
Sent: Monday, April 02, 2012 4:40 PM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: Re: [stylist] Sharing my earliest sestina House of Cards

Paul,
It is a great way to write a poem that can be so moving and powerful. 
Basically, it is a French type of poem; 6 line stanzas, 6 of them. At the 
end is a three line ENVOI that pulls it all together.  The end words of the 
stanzas are orchestrated numerically - this is the part that is a puzzle 
when you first begin working on the form. It has to be exact, and follow the

format.  Why not give it a try, Paul?  I will attach some directions to help

you. Open the attachment, and there you go. You are ON a MISSION now. lol 
Join in the fun - write a SESTINA.
Lynda
Lynda Lambert
104 River Road
Ellwood City, PA 16117

724 758 4979

My Blog:  http://www.walkingbyinnervision.blogspot.com
My Website:  http://lyndalambert.com

----- Original Message ----- 
From: "PAUL BAVER" <pebaver at verizon.net>
To: "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Monday, April 02, 2012 6:55 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] Sharing my earliest sestina House of Cards

I love your (sestina), I beg everyone's pardon, and forgiveness, but I've
never heard of a (sestina) is there a relatively easy definition defining
the style, it seams to be a style that is very much like the pomes I have
written. Thank you Paul E Baver----- Original Message ----- 
From: <KajunCutie926 at aol.com>
To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Monday, April 02, 2012 6:13 PM
Subject: [stylist] Sharing my earliest sestina House of Cards

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.

C March 2004

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