Valsa George


When Poetry Haunted Me


Sudden was the descent of poetry on me
I tottered under its weight
My body heated up like the sun
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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

    P.X

    #65 Charles Monroe


    Novus Ordo Seclorum (Report) Reply

  • 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 (Report) Reply

  • 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. (Report) Reply

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

    Softness of heart of a poet is beautifully portrayed here. Excellent Write. (Report) Reply

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

    A studded piece of poetry and an experience of an intuitive poet...so natural, which can never be experienced by practitioners of poetry! ! ! (Report) Reply

  • 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 (Report) Reply

  • Jahan Zeb (1/13/2013 9:52:00 AM)

    I treat to be in the company of such great people. They really care for each other. Most importantly they care for the each other. I have found friends here. friend That I will never forget.
    This piece of yours represents us all. thank you for writing such a marvelous piece (Report) Reply

  • Kee Thampi (11/5/2012 8:21:00 AM)

    read with a pride, prime moments to bless....
    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....... (Report) Reply

  • Anita Sehgal (9/28/2012 6:10:00 AM)

    you are right.. thats exactly how i feel... well expressed.. a pleasure to read you poems.. thanks for sharing (Report) Reply

  • Elena Sandu (9/27/2012 11:48:00 PM)

    A delight to read, happiness to feel for being ably to read this wonderful poem! Thank you for share,10. (Report) Reply

  • Sekharan Pookkat (9/24/2012 9:26:00 AM)

    Right dear poet- right. spontaneous overflow of emotions recollected in tranquility is a poem.. You are right.
    Origin of a poem is a strange experience to all poets. (Report) Reply

  • Neela Nath (9/20/2012 3:23:00 AM)

    Same is my condition. While spending time with my family, going somewhere by car, a sudden flash, a single line comes in my mind.I become alone then. (Report) Reply

  • Thomas A Robinson (9/18/2012 6:51:00 PM)

    Poems haunt me also Valsa, they wrack my soul devouring any memory like
    ravenous wolves.They torture my existance taunting my past daring me to
    something about it.They never let me rest and glee at my exhaustion in te wee hours
    before daylight.They are my bain, my extension of guilt, and my final plea.
    My poems are all of me. (Report) Reply

  • Www. Poemhunter.com/m-d-dinesh-nair-2 (9/18/2012 11:52:00 AM)

    How could poetry haunt you as it has ever done the magic of transforming you into a fine interpreter of life in its all angles of presence and recurrence? The transportation of the lady with the magical pen into a world of wider exposure might be the fact as of now.
    The challenge now lying ahead as one may observe now is the need for looking at the world beyond the spectrum and portraying a few more sketches of things bereft of fantasies and hallucinations of the kind though you are at your best in the writing of the poems of this kind. (Report) Reply

  • * Sunprincess * (9/18/2012 2:03:00 AM)

    Fate brought me here..I was just thinking tonight, I hope there is a Heaven for all poets..brilliant write.. :) (Report) Reply

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