[stylist] House of Cards
Lynda Lambert
llambert at zoominternet.net
Wed Apr 11 19:31:04 UTC 2012
Yes, that is exactly how it reads to me - viewed from the distance, a
description of observations, as I said, the "God's Eye Vantage Point." This
is a good example of that.
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: <KajunCutie926 at aol.com>
To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Wednesday, April 11, 2012 11:43 AM
Subject: Re: [stylist] House of Cards
> Thank you Lynda.. the poem was inspired by the life of a friend and was
> written simply from observations of what she had gone through and is
> still
> going through... I appreciate the kind words.. Myrna
>
>
> In a message dated 4/11/2012 9:53:25 A.M. Central Daylight Time,
> llambert at zoominternet.net writes:
>
> Finally, I am trying to go back to your poem and see what is there. Here
> is where I am at with it.
>
>
> Begins in third person - someone is telling the story about "she" who was
> sheltered and innocent, or in denial of her situation - living in a
> dangerous place that was about to collapse her entire world.
>
> In the third stanza she is described as alone - yet, soon we see that we
> are made aware that there are "others" who are there, and others who know
> dark secrets. They are called "evil" and have overtaken innocence, and
> brought destruction or an end to earlier times when she felt safe and
> happy - but
> she was deceived and never truly was safe or happy. All appearances of
> domestic order are collapsing at this point.
>
> The journey continues with "she" trying to recapture things from the past
> - yet they are illusive. She "picks" at things, rooting about in the
> destruction - laughter is usually a joyful idea, but not here. Here,
> laughter is
> really a kind of mocking feeling that we get. Something that is buried
> deep
> down inside, yet being revealed.
>
> And, then we get to a change towards the end. Questions are asked, not
> particularly to the reader, but questions one might ask oneself when
> being
> introspective. The questions bring us deeper inside her thoughts as she
> is
> turning over the questions, and she seems to be turning around slowly,
> away
> from the destruction we have been viewing.
>
> Finally, we have the passage of time, when "time" is descrived as a being
> - with "muscles." Time seems to be flesh and blood, and brings with "it"
> some distance. While time has human qualities, it is still neutral, and
> genderless. It is an "it."
>
> In the concluding tercet, we are still in the past tense, as we have been
> throughout the telling of the story. But there is a new awareness and a
> knowing here, that leads the reader to have a glimmer of hope in a
> situation
> that seems to have been on-going for a very long time. There is no real
> changes that we can tell in the outward situations, yet, we do have a
> gentle
> moving towards awareness that did not exist when the poem began.
>
> I hope this is helpful to you! I enjoyed this poem very much and it is
> really successful. You have given it a flow and an elegance that is hard
> to do
> with this form often times. There is nothing forced here, and the parts
> all contribute to the whole of this poem. Because the poem is written in
> past
> tense and third person, there is a distance that we have. We have a God's
> eye view of the person we are reading about. We view her from the
> distance
> as we read her story.
>
> Well done! Lynda
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> 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 remained quiet, not discussing her situation with anyone - what would
> happen if she had shared the secrets she was hiding inside the structure
> of
> false appearances?
>
>
>
> 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
>
> Lynda Lambert
> 104 River Road
> Ellwood City, PA 16117
>
> 724 758 4979
>
> My Blog: http://www.walkingbyinnervision.blogspot.com
> My Website: http://lyndalambert.com
>
>
>
>
>
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