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The House of Cards
A poem for the vengeful
They took the sovereigns and aces,
And threw me the deck,
I have a house full of clubs,
To break the bones in the necks.
When we lay down our arms,
I pick up a spade,
To dig graves in the night,
For the friends I have made.
The book says I’m blind,
Till the day I am cheated,
I pay armies with diamonds,
Those I suspect are defeated.
There is no joy in their palace,
I trample their hearts,
All the pleasure is mine,
Their house of cards falls apart.
In my thirties, my world was falling apart. I was frustrated, paranoid and almost down and out. When I read the poetry I wrote during that period it reminds me both how bad things were, but also how lucky I am to be where I am today.
Often I would lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling, with verses forming in my head. There is a lot of power in desperation. I was certainly desperate in my thirties. The things I thought I would achieve had all slipped away. I was isolated and angry, a long way from my friends and…
