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! !
Valsa-ji, I can't say I quite understood this poem. From the comments of others, it sounds contextual to some competition where the soaring dreams of aspiring poets had to crash to the ground when the results were announced. Well, I wasn't around at that time. However, I would say your poem is very powerful and truly depicts a a poet's experience a la Neruda in his poem Poetry, which I translated into our native Malayalam and responding to which you invited me read this poem of yours. I am excerpting Neruda below to contrast him with you: and suddenly I saw the heavens unfastened and open, planets, palpitating plantations, shadow perforated, riddled with arrows, fire and flowers, the winding night, the universe. Valsa George: 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 Great! You go with a 10.
A delight to read, happiness to feel for being ably to read this wonderful poem! Thank you for share,10.
you are right.. thats exactly how i feel... well expressed.. a pleasure to read you poems.. thanks for sharing
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.......
Your imagination is well expressed in this poem as well as the title of this poem is too apprppriated.here i want to cite some lines which touch me very much....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.. Marvelous presentation.10
Fine and lofty verse. Poignant reflection crafted in persuasive poetic expressions with literary conviction and artistic brilliance. A remarkable work of art. Thanks for sharing this wonderful poem, Prof.
It is amazing to read the beautiful words you put in this write. It is indeed, POETRY.A pure poetic joy. Just like you, Poetry came to my life so sudden. It was after the death of my father. It gave me solace and from that time it has been embedded in me. A superb poem beautifully crafted and executed by a great Poet's Ink. 10 and on to my Poem List.
Most, if not all must have gone through what you had so brilliantly described. Some were stuck in the chasm, while others were lost. Whatever, is was an experience not to be forgotten. Thanks Valsa.
Valsa, I found this poem to be fascinating and riveting. You had me on the edge of my seat. I saw the writer astral travelling to a realm where poets dwelled. For me, it was like a modern day version of William Blake. He's one of my favourites. And now, so are you. Great work of art!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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.