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When Poetry Haunted Me

Sudden was the descent of poetry on me
I tottered under its weight
My body heated up like the sun
A frying egg yolk on the pan
My blood started burning…. burning
A strange madness crept across my senses
Intoxicated as by an excess dose of ale
Or drunk with the vintage wine
Or by some mystical disengagement
I started levitating
Wings sprouted up suddenly on my sides
I reeled round and round
Flew up and up
Meteors flashed past
Stars blinked
Larger celestial bodies stood still
Strange sounds fleeted past my ears
My heart palpitated,
Like the rumblings of thunder
My eyes glowed like fire balls

A shout I heard afar
Over the heavens' mysterious rim,
Muffled though, I could decipher it;
'Welcome to the clan of poets'!
Around me, I saw multitudes of poets
Young and old, their faces blazing
Like a million lanterns lit
In that blinding brilliance
My filmy wings burnt outright!

Like Icarus, from the heights
I flopped down to the chasm below
In the scattered heap of flesh and bones
A faint stir …..
The feeble flutter of a poetic heart
Before it was finally stilled! !

Submitted: Monday, September 17, 2012
Edited: Thursday, September 12, 2013

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Comments about this poem (A Journey to Bethlehem by Valsa George )

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  • Charles Monroe (10/29/2013 1:44:00 PM)

    'Top One-Hundred Poets Club'
    Out of Thousands and thousands of Poems online
    Mine was number sixty-five.
    Poet with a Thousand Kills
    But with weak promotion skills.
    Poem Hunters lose their way
    And, at times, become the prey
    All is fair in War and Love
    Top One-Hundred Poets Club.
    All contestants orchestrated
    Or perhaps they're all related
    Smiling proud with Pen in Hand
    We remain the Underrated.
    It will take a thousand Poets
    Just to help you stay afloat
    But nothing beats the satisfaction
    To receive an honest Vote.
    Poem Hunts the lamest Ducks
    I Searched You a thousand bucks
    Poison Ink reigns from above
    Top One-hundred Poets Club


    #65 Charles Monroe

    Novus Ordo Seclorum

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Bri Edwards (10/27/2013 3:24:00 PM)

    hey valsa, you did very well (in the contest) and without my help!) .
    i found the following comment below: Writing poetry is entoxicating and you are under it's influence. An ethereal and mystic portrayal of how it grabs you-A great read and reread
    if writing poetry were THAT GOOD for me, i wouldn't bother with sleeping or eating! is 'entoxicating' a 'british' spelling?
    i actually got the idea (perhaps incorrect?) that you aspired to be a poet, saw the glorious poets/poems surrounding you, and crashed in disappointment at not being able to compete on the same level. i didn't see any other comments like this, though i did not read them all. in fact, valsa, you have 'arrived' at, at least, your own very, very good poetic level! you may have even surpassed ME! congratulations. :) bri

  • Tirupathi Chandrupatla (10/21/2013 8:35:00 AM)

    Like a million lanterns lit
    In that blinding brilliance
    Poets around so brilliant. Beautiful poem.

  • Dinesh Nair (10/20/2013 9:38:00 AM)

    Metal is better shaped in fire and the longer and deeper the former remains in the latter, the more the effect thereof is. A mind haunted by poetry is elevated in one way and the bliss of writing in spite of the short spells of pains makes a poet a demi-god of one kind.
    Madam Valsa, your poems throw light on life in its myriad forms as judged by a human being with right perceptions and this poem elevates your poetic identity and what you call a haunting experience is nothing but the mother of all obsessions in fact. Kudos to the poet in you.

  • Jasbir Chatterjee (10/19/2013 10:59:00 AM)

    Poetry, like all things mortal, must follow the laws of gravity...

  • Ramesh Rai (10/13/2013 4:25:00 AM)

    i hv already done on 26.9.13

  • Ramesh Rai (9/26/2013 10:29:00 PM)

    Softness of heart of a poet is beautifully portrayed here. Excellent Write.

  • Shahzia Batool (5/2/2013 8:46:00 AM)

    A studded piece of poetry and an experience of an intuitive natural, which can never be experienced by practitioners of poetry! ! !

  • Joseph Anderson (5/1/2013 12:50:00 PM)

    Now we have winessed the birth. or rebirth of a true poet and it was an
    intoxicating experience. Supurb in imagery and exciting to read and reread-
    brilliantly done. Go to the head of the class

  • Doug Bentley (4/23/2013 2:03:00 AM)

    You soared, but you did not crash and burn. you are daedalus, not icarus.

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