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Page: Profile: Poetry
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Poem Specs
VxPoem ID: 26346
Category:
personal_life
Posted: January 10th. 2007 1:11:18 AM
Views: 1050 |
Mourning face of the Queen of Spades
by Widdershins
Age Group: Adult
*The Queen of Spades*
“…If I could just step back—
to find that moment, Solitaire…
if I could bring that unexpected
surge of joy, I’d be there… Solitaire,
come back to me…
in secrecy for my fate—
has such cruel doubts,
and straining weaves to deceive even me…”
/–The Queen of Spades/
*Recruit*
Solitaire sidle up to the Grand Legion
of the dark Queen of Spades… Lady of Weeping
with her mourning face, gazing
at the silent flower left behind of her life of ruling
to remind her of all that fled instead of kneeling
before their Queen, and all that is to come—
“I seek jester, to make me smile,
for I have forgotten how…
and no jeering false masks
will I accept…” said the Lady – in test,
but the Queen of Spades asks so much, she does
almost in jest, too many things does she hate…
too many she loves
too many poisoned wounds she never does touch,
imagery of her past winding road of fate,
and the Queen of all Spades feels fear in her heart
that her slowly blooming smile cannot save… it will be too late…
*Plea of the Queen*
“Save me from my pain, ”
pleaded the Queen to her silent court
she sought out her King for solace
seeking his soothing comfort,
and found that her Lord was away…
gone again waging wars, that
need not be fought today—
she sought her bishops, knights, maids…
and of them all, not one could speak
in their Weeping Lady’s name…
the echo of her soft, deep voice
resounded upon the stone cold walls,
and mirrored
all the Lady of Spades felt inside…
so little to hide from, so much to hide…
*The court*
/“They say she’s a heart of stone
they call her a ruler everlastingly cold,
and yet when her tears filter through the ice…
all her court mourns with the Lady of Knives…”/
*The mirror on the bedroom wall*
Her oval face and almond eyes
look back at her from the reflection
of the Mirror That Lies
her true heart-shaped face holds
a crestfallen hope that her redeeming
shall be transcending mere foolery,
and she may become
the true woman she was meant to be…
the ruler, the cold fire in her eyes
burn out and are quenched with grief
when she stares in disbelief
at the Queen of Spades,
showing the mask presented
by a mirror that lies…
*The Queen of Hearts*
It was so long ago, almost legend—
shorter it seems to those who wish to forget them
that the woman of Spades had a place
aside a throne of the land of the Heart
her joy, derived from inside
now bringing her tears as she departs
castle and mote alike…
for the tyranny and anarchy ruling there
deserved only her despise—
…Lady of Hearts
Queen of Spades…
as ever, the two shimmering nymph figures
are one and the same…
“you know me as Lyria, ”
the Queen of Spades proclaimed,
“but once—
Widdershins was my true name…”
*The prisoner*
“Deep within the tunnels of this cold realm,
lies sleeping in the depths a sweet maiden—
once, this girl was a queen…
now she is a prisoner to me…”
the Queen of Spades cruelly articulates
the limit of her feeble mercy and hates
the Lady trapped inside her – too weak!
sleeping gently – unlimited in naivety!
while the rightful Queen,
with the steely and cold gleam of merciless silver,
seeking everything to kill her,
she weeps…
the Lady of Spades lies awake, and never sleeps…
but calls for her jester as company to keep,
Solitaire, remove not another pin
bring but a smile to both women, hiding in there…
and it may ease the Queen out of her fear…
*The secret of the Queen*
“…Sovereign to my land – mere foolery?
am I just to be a mere stand,
decked with precious jewelry,
do my people find me pleasing to the eye…
but a gloat in the name of love,
a weary and pale maid, such a far cry
from the Queen they wish to see…
but what would my folk know of what I feel?
my mirror shows me a mere glassy smile
with brightness falsified by the light
on my earrings, and back again from the tiles…
such a pathetic emanation
of superior engagements such as mine…
all those worshipped fools who come to dine,
can never see… the pain I hide…”
/–The Queen of Spades/
*The court*
/“What does our Lady wish? meats, sauces,
other edibles to dish,
such as rules of the games
as we set our chessmen out to play…
the peasants of our land victims of trickery,
while for our Lady the Queen, we reap victory…”/
*The jester*
When the Queen calls, there the jester
appears like a phantom,
silent and random, yet—
elegant and smooth…
the Queen’s nerves are soothed at the sight
of this youth, strange and silent though he may be…
in his nonverbal stance
can the Queen read his legacy,
and the hurts that have tried to batter
but failed to crush him, though they make
his sparse words bitter,
but the Queen shares his need
and together they may weep—
jester and his Queen…
when all the colors are weary of being indulged in
the verses and rhymes are tired of speaking,
and the graceful movements grow encumbered
with the breathing slowly in and out of one in slumber
the gentle lonely echoing
seems to fade…
with incredible grace,
the emotions well and wave…
and the jester leaves his Queen resting
finally in sleep, in peace…
*The Queen of Diamonds*
Sitting in a palace, far away
the Queen of Diamonds speculates
over every jewel she’s ever seen
and catches wind of an unknown gleam, the shine
that comes unexpectedly in the world outside
over the palace of the Queen of Spades,
that shadowed, darkly place…
such brilliance, such magic in the sky
and the Queen of Diamonds speculates “why…?”
when the Lady of Spades, so grieved and lost
would stay in her darkness at whatever cost,
this Lady of Diamonds had learned long ago…
the Lady of that realm seemed to die inside
and be covered by frosty snow…
and yet, she sees joy
over that tainted place
whatever could disown the myths
of ghosts and shadows, without a single trace…?
what could possibly make the cold Lady
shimmer and gleam while her impenetrable ice is fading…
*The mourning face*
“…If I could but step forward,
Solitaire, would you follow me? and
mourn with me, grieve with me?
would I wander the passages forever wounded—
or could I possibly heal?
could the cunning Queen of Spades return
and become the player, Solitaire,
could my path and the past part,
could Lyria ever become once more
the Queen of Hearts?…”
/– The Queen of Spades/
January 8, 2007
Author's Notes: Hmm, could look better with effects...
Author's Location: Szeged, Hungary
More Poems: Widdershins has posted 234 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about Widdershins - Click HERE
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