Treasure Island

Valsa George


Rudder-less


I flew,
far from the plumed flock,
above the vast stretch of sands,
over crags and boulders.
Flew into forlorn uncharted lands,
into the lure of the unknown,
Searching for a tree to perch.
A temporary haven in encircling fetters,
A home away from home.
Seeking comfort where none exists.

Saw the twilight nibbling at,
the blazing brightness,
from the sinking sun.
An orb of orange red.
A tad too naughty to tame,
playing out its few remaining moments.

Nowhere within eyeshot,
a crown of supine leafy green,
propped firm on poles of brown,
shooting out into the darkened sky.
Nor the whirr of nocturnal moths,
Leaving the hide of leprous barks.

Like a kite at the beck of winds,
Slipped out from the controlling grip,
With the string hanging loosely down,
I swayed and tossed in boundless blue.
Below lay the abysmal depths,
And sand dunes forming cancerous lumps.


The sun that sank into roaring depths,
Left not even a glint of light,
Unable to hold on to a willed direction,
And passing through the Stygian sky,
I knew my body growing heavy,
Felt the ache in every limb,
And the wings, losing their power to soar
x x x x x x

The descent was far too abrupt,
Rudderless and reeling, I dropped down,
Like a missile, blasted out,
And none heard the fierce thud!

Submitted: Monday, March 11, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

The plight of those who seek joy and shelter away from their fellow men and are too late to realize that they have been in a fool's paradise! !

Comments about this poem (Rudder-less by Valsa George )

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  • Neela Nath (3/14/2013 11:30:00 AM)

    Reading this poem I remembered the novel of Charles Dickens- - -Great Expectation.I enjoyed it very much. (Report) Reply

  • Thomas A Robinson (3/14/2013 10:49:00 AM)

    Seeking only riches we make ourselves into paupers bread. The coins flow like the grains of sand between our fingers and the contempt we gain accumalates. And the only riches held are the memories of all we left behind.
    And folly follows us home like a badge we must bear. (Report) Reply

  • Valerie Dohren (3/13/2013 6:23:00 AM)

    We need our moments of flights of fancy, but also need to remain grounded, and we certainly need to know the difference between the two. Some lovely lines here Valsa, and a very good read. (Report) Reply

  • Chandra Thiagarajan (3/12/2013 10:09:00 AM)

    A fascinating metaphorical poem regarding the sad plight of the Rudder less who soon come to terms about their real situation! The para'- starting with - Like a kite at the beck of winds............ending with - -And sand dunes forming cancerous lumps are exceptionally brilliant and the entire poem is matchless.! ! (Report) Reply

  • Www.poemhunter.com/m-d-dinesh-nair-2 Search 2 (3/12/2013 8:24:00 AM)

    In the ocean of the unknown where the waves threaten and the under currents frighten those floating in the rudderless boats are many. Irrespective of the experiences of many down the years of human origin there have been innumerable flights unto the unknown paradise! The sense of sanity descends a bit late and comes with a lesson. But wisdom prevails and the tale gets told from mouth to mouth. The ultimate hope of man to reach eternity after fleeing from the bonds down in the earth is the most disastrous with the last breath leaving the mortals helplessly dead for ever. The poets who glorify the 'never back to life' flights of the human souls seldom apply the same norms in interpreting the phases of human life. Realisation of the truth within the life span has the touch of reality whereas the final journey in life aspired for or self made has the stamp of hypothetical eternity....
    Dear Madam Valsa, your poem points finger at human folly of one kind through the lines which can have a powerful impact on our minds. Your poem enlightens me while I see its potential in being evasive of unveiling the true void in the minds of those who may wish to leave this small world to join the 'eternity'. (Report) Reply

  • Danny Draper (3/12/2013 7:16:00 AM)

    Some fine imagery and a good metaphor for the idea that every man is an island, which while true to some extent is certainly untrue in most others as we are gregarious and so much can and will go wrong. However we all need solitude to reflect and contemplate and meditate. The poem definitely reminded me of a bird sadly blown off course to its unfortunate demise. (Report) Reply

  • Kee Thampi (3/12/2013 12:15:00 AM)

    we wish to keep us away, and hide
    wish to go away
    but this land of loving dreams
    only we want to be here agin (Report) Reply

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