My Problem With Words Poem by Valsa George

My Problem With Words

Rating: 4.9


Thoughts explode in my brain
Like fireworks…..
How I want them to come out in words
And fall in line
Like disciplined cadets,
On ceremonial parade
Or like dancing dervishes!

But alas, my words are stuck
Somewhere in the winding track
Of the trachea…They are handcuffed!
Silence sleeps between words and words
And my mute music lies inert in my mind

As a woman full with child
Impatient to see her babe's tender face
I long for my words to come out
To see them aligned into a rhyme
Chrysalis of emotions
Taking wings into butterflies

Who can tell it won't carry a message
A message of hope and love
That it turns into a healing therapy
For many a wearied soul!

How I envy the ones
Who with deft strokes of their pen
String words into beautiful clusters
With images coalescing on every line
And metaphors dancing in rhythmic steps

When words come to me
They seldom come in the right order
What I do is write and rewrite
Strike off and write again

I am casted to be a Penelope
Weaving and unweaving
Sometimes I wonder
If I am Moses
Who reached up the doorway
But fated not to enter
The Promised Land!

Friday, August 22, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Words
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Deepak Kumar Pattanayak 22 August 2014

This is simply phenomenal......Valsa......your composition is quite different......words' choice excellent....here words and metaphors are extraordinary......especially last lines are so beautifully scripted....of Penelope and Moses and to the Promised Land.......Always I wish I could write like you........great piece

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Akhtar Jawad 22 August 2014

Comparing the thoughts with fireworks is a beautiful idea. Description of fireworks with flowers of words is not difficult for Valsa.

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Sandra Feldman 22 August 2014

If you can weave and unweave and come up with a Poem like this, your textile efforts are certainly worth it. Many poets would give anything to have such results. So, keep on climbing that mountain, look at what Moses, came back with after his climb. Regardless, a wonderful work to remember and so fully and well expressed.10/10

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Kee Thampi 22 August 2014

the great Malayalam poet -Kumaranasan_writes , want to find new media to express his mind... here again Valsaji, writes When words come to me They seldom come in the right order What I do is write and rewrite Strike off and write again

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Geetha Jayakumar 22 August 2014

Dear Valsa, I often respect your way of writing, the words you pour out so elegantly in your poems, Midas touch of metaphors, Wonderful rhymes and rhythms, etc. Many more is enriched in your poems that we readers love to read your poems delightfully. Any theme you take, you are very well versed in it, you have in depth knowledge in any topic. It's not just you play with words, but you write so well, I respect the knowledge in you. Your each write is so unique, I felt many times if I could write like you. I appreciate the way you take us, we readers into your depth of poem. This is the beautiful write. I loved it.

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Amitava Sur 29 August 2014

What an exact irritating feeling you have expressed here in this write! ! ! ! Ha Ha - dear Valsa, if a person like you say that then a poor fellow like me, where I do stand? ? Most of my thoughts are buried afresh for want of suitable words only. And if I feel that the rhythm is affected because of the word, I don't write that poem at all. So I feel you're much above in the layer where you can breath and reading this poem I feel like sinking gradually. Hence your regret gives me a courage that I have to achieve proficiency and have to have the stock of words to move ahead with ease. Thanks for sharing such an important thing and I'm thankful to you.

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Dinesan Madathil 28 August 2014

.The irony is your simplicity in accepting an imaginary struggle you are experiencing while writing the poems whereas the very poem bemoaning the hypothetical issue and a few more submitted long ago are extremely well written with most apt diction displaying your proficiency and command over words adequately needed for penning down poetry in general. You write in this poem: How I envy the ones Who with deft strokes of their pen String words into beautiful clusters With images coalescing on every line And metaphors dancing in rhythmic steps. I feel such a species of poets we do not easily come across on the PH and your eulogy has exceeded all the borders of tracing who, where and when have demonstrated that utopian splendour of talent teeming with unique or perfect ingredients for the expression of thoughts without flaws here and there. CERTAIN POEMS are accidentally created and the impact is such that their own creators often begin to worry about why they cannot repeat the show again and again! Your poem here has enough merit to leave even you pondering for some long period that how you could write such a powerful poem that can withstand the test of time transcending the merits of the probable potential works to be written by you close ahead. Your play with words has smashed your invented verbal phobia that might be just amusing to many of us. Oh poets at large, here is a poem that indirectly communicates to you driving home the idea that most of us struggling with words while writing are no way aware of it and obviously our empty vessels will ever be making great noise as usual. My Professor of English Late Edmund Peters could easily close his eyes when confronted with a question of certain gravity and complex dimension which he alone might answer and say, ' I don`t know the answer of it'. I have ever seen a mischief in his reply that his eyes reflected.... That`s how some knowledgeable people are. Madam Valsa, I think you are one among them - you can`t help being that..... Now I challenge you, Can you show a write absolutely perfect in terms of quality of diction and distinction attributed often on the PH? .....

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Chuy Amante 28 August 2014

The word queen envies? Ha! You just keep doing whatever it is that you do, it is all perfect!

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Words, slippery slimy words are all that we have To express all that we feel in our tumultuous brains And when they go and hide or refuse to cooperate All we got to do is take a short nap and try again....... Writers block? Good poem Madam and well written..........

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Ramesh Rai 25 August 2014

For me poetry is an endless journey. i have not yet been able to complete a poem and give final word.. so many times words are slipping with my emotions.. But very true you have stated here, As a woman full with child Impatient to see her babe's tender face.Thank you so much for sharing. Regards.

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