From Under The Rubble Poem by Valsa George

So many killed in this natural disaster, Nepal now awaiting assistance. I thank my lucky stars for the safe country I reside. You have presented this so well. Thank You

Tremors rock the earth, wave after wave Rupturing and displacing underground plates You related the external tremors with the internal feelings. Heart is with all those who face such a colossal tragedy. Whole history seems to be in danger of being erased. A timely poem. Thank you.

The only tune I listened in my mother’s womb The ever resonant song of my life! The voice that warrants- “I am not dead, I am still alive”! ! ................A wonderful poem...................10

may temples of Nepal tremple with fear... My eyes are going boggy n’ bleary Am I dead or alive? Am I in a gorge or grave?

Terrible terrible event Valsa....... So many emotions - so much tragedy......

This is absolutely brilliant, Valsa. At times the difference between expiring and thriving can be reduced to a few single words, or to an act of will. In fact, I suspect the metaphorical rubble can be destructive as well. Perhaps it is the abstraction, the metaphysical rubble, that can indeed do the most harm. A wonderful poem.

Well written poem. Much imagination there. Thanks for sharing 10

It's a wonderful piece of poetry! Scintillating expression! I always find a different taste in your poetry! My great pleasure reading your scholarly poems!

From Under The Rubble

“I grow exasperate under arduous strain” …….i’ll bet ‘you’ DID get exasperateD! :) “I know my senses wilt and wither Oh! How I grow weak n’ weary! I lie smitten, hurt n’ bleeding My eyes are going boggy n’ bleary Am I dead or alive? Am I in a gorge or grave? “ …………I like the alliterations all around. So, it was a bad day? bri :)