Treasure Island

Valsa George

In Vain

With no cover ups, let me be frank
At times my mind goes utterly blank
When I sit down to write a poem
From topic to topic, my mind does roam
But nothing comes to spark off a rhyme
Often I feel the words do not chime
Today as I sat down to write something
I ended up conjuring nothing

No thoughts came to stir up my brain
And no topic I found save my strain
But I wasn’t ready to willfully give up
And waited impatient for my mind to clear up
I thought I shall settle with ‘Compassion’
But alas, it was charged with no passion

The urge to write had grown into a fad
And I felt I was growing altogether mad
Plagued by a fiery fancy to express
And a tormenting desire unable to suppress
With a mental state somewhat fierce
I climbed up and down the stairs

I stood upside down and raked my head
So that a little poem, into it would be fed
Feeling dizzy, I stood suddenly upright
But on my head hung a heavy weight
I poured some water over my head
But knew my fever hadn’t fled
Madly pacing across the room
I tripped and fell down on a broom
Rising, I screamed with all my might
Making the household ring in fright
‘What the hell is it? ’ I did shout
And wriggled in pain as from gout
In mad frenzy, I ran round the house
No one knew the reason for my fuss
Soon it dawned on me that I needed some rest
For I was far more than stressed
So I sat down and closed my eyes
Thinking, attempting to squeeze out a poem is unwise

I don’t know how long I sat in meditation
On waking up I got a fresh direction
From the grip of an entangling rigour
I restored my sanity and vigour

The sun had gone out of sight
And the moon was beautiful and bright
It was already growing late
And I put off my futile fight

Submitted: Sunday, March 16, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, March 18, 2014

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Topic(s): Failure

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Comments about this poem (In Vain by Valsa George )

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  • Amitava Sur (4/8/2014 10:14:00 PM)

    Thank God that at last you became quiet.
    Otherwise had it been ended so wild,
    Then Valsa-
    I'd have been hanging my paper and pen outright.
    And telling -
    Good bye PH
    No more madness, no more wild
    For want of a rhythmic write....................... Ha Ha...... very much enjoyed (Report) Reply

  • Patricia Grantham (3/27/2014 1:44:00 PM)

    No pain no gain. Some days are filled with so much expressions
    all we have to do is just reach out and grasp a few. Just like a field
    of flowers so many beautiful ones but can't pick them all. Very good
    tale. (Report) Reply

  • Dave Walker (3/25/2014 3:20:00 PM)

    Like it, I have plenty in my head until I pick a pen up, then it all seems to disappear.
    But in the end I manage to get something out.
    The blank days can be a pain. A great poem. (Report) Reply

  • Md Asadullah (3/20/2014 11:25:00 PM)

    Out of nothing you wrote something, although the title is 'in vain', but your attempt is productive and it went through gate of success, infact I loved this one :) (Report) Reply

  • Kee Thampi (3/19/2014 11:43:00 PM)

    when we write it late..........
    The sun had gone out of sight
    And the moon was beautiful and bright
    It was already growing late (Report) Reply

  • Savita Tyagi (3/18/2014 7:18:00 PM)

    What a wonderful poem. All writers face this blank mind. But with the pen of a skillful poet even this frustration flows into a lovely write. Enjoyed it throughly since this is how I feel now a days. (Report) Reply

  • * Sunprincess * (3/17/2014 8:28:00 AM)

    .....hope you are ok, after the incident with the broom...I will be checking back later to see if you wrote the special poem....enjoyed this one much... (Report) Reply

  • Diane Hine (3/17/2014 6:19:00 AM)

    Ha! - there are far worse addictions than writing poetry. An entertaining poem. (Report) Reply

  • Deepak Kumar Pattanayak (3/17/2014 4:07:00 AM)

    And out of clumsiness, out of blankness, out of nothing as if out of blue this verse emerges as the best.....Valsa....
    every piece a no efforts tied with strife and strain will go in vain......A super 10 (Report) Reply

  • Khairul Ahsan (3/16/2014 1:15:00 PM)

    I think every poet faces this situation at some point or other in his/her life.
    'Plagued by a fiery fancy to express
    And a tormenting desire unable to suppress
    With a mental state somewhat fierce
    I climbed up and down the stairs' - Yes, it so happens with me too.
    A nice expression of drought that sometimes reigns a poet's mind. (Report) Reply

  • Dinesh Nair (3/16/2014 11:14:00 AM)

    A mind that has imaginative flutter will brave against any odds and reverses. Your frustration, your blank mind and your own fever have chimed out this fine verse from you madam. 'In Vain' is obviously a wrong title for such a summative attempt on poetic thoughts. Here is 10 out of 10 for you. (Report) Reply

  • Pradip Chattopadhyay (3/16/2014 11:10:00 AM)

    a mess a poet very often finds him/her in, the poetic urge and surge often bang on the wall of blankness of any ideas clearly emerging. very pertinent and humorous. (Report) Reply

  • Tirupathi Chandrupatla (3/16/2014 7:30:00 AM)

    I sat down and closed my eyes
    I sat in meditation
    After all the frustration and meditation, what a beautiful rhyming poem you got out of it. It is a wonderful advice for all to follow. Thank you. (Report) Reply

  • Nika Mcguin (3/16/2014 7:12:00 AM)

    This is funny lol I smiled my way through it as I was reading. Its something all of us are familiar with eventually. Some days it seems like poems just float off the top of our heads and others its forced and a strain despite how much we want to write. I say though, you definitely made an adventure out of it lol It was fun to read, and made me anxious to know what would happen next! I went through something similar in my poem seeking inspiration. But in my case I took my madness outdoors lol not such a good idea. Anyhow, this is an amazing write - as always! Thanks for posting.

    ~Nika (Report) Reply

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