My Problem With Words Poem by Valsa George

This is simply phenomenal......Valsa......your composition is quite different......words' choice excellent....here words and metaphors are extraordinary......especially last lines are so beautifully scripted....of Penelope and Moses and to the Promised Land.......Always I wish I could write like you........great piece

this wonderful poem shows no sign of that. your words remain worthy messengers of your thoughts.

Isn't it wonderful to have thoughts exploding like fireworks. You envy others, yet others including myself envy your ability to write poems. It is lovely we all appreciate the work of others and strive to create beautiful lines.

'What I do is write and rewrite'. It makes me feel a little better now! I am totally stuck in swamp of words! Can't seem to find a release. But your words provide so much encouragement. Thank you Valsa for pulling us all with such a lovely and honest dilemma that I guess every body faces. Your poems are a treasure island for us all.

Coleridge may define poetry as the best words in the best order, but I think he misses the mark. Poetry for me is very simply my best words in the order their logic dictates. Perhaps this also places a limit on my imagination but the pragmatist in me disagrees. How can I be better than I am? The appearance of the mountain always depends on where you are viewing it from. The days weather does not make a poem less beautiful. My question, 'How can I be better than I am? ' is simple but one the poet would do well to answer for himself in my opinion. It could be an answer to the intellectual's weakness of unproductive gazing at one's own belly button? I am a simple man in many ways and though I love poetry there are acclaimed poets I don't get or who at least leave me cold. You are not one of these Valsa. My cures for writer's block are simple.... 1. Write more from my own experience 2. A great poem title can lead you through the wilderness 3. Never give my muse the final word (his gift is more often just the skeleton of what the poem could be. 4. When stuck, ask the simple questions, a. Does what I have so far feel right? and b. OK, What's next (honor the poem's logic) ? 5. Always take time to to bask in the glow of the completed work. As a programmer with years of experience, it is always a joy to me to reflect on how the stringing together of related but also logically perfect and unique sub units of code can produce something in the end that has a life of its own and that seems so much larger than my own imagination. Frequently I can hardly believe that I actually wrote it. The last program I wrote took over 4 years to complete (in its final version) and contained over 40,000 separate logical instructions. Our minds are so amazing! Finally is there any Promised Land greater than Heaven? You know that Moses got there and so will you Dear Poet. Is God himself not the lover that we all are waiting for?

What an exact irritating feeling you have expressed here in this write! ! ! ! Ha Ha - dear Valsa, if a person like you say that then a poor fellow like me, where I do stand? ? Most of my thoughts are buried afresh for want of suitable words only. And if I feel that the rhythm is affected because of the word, I don't write that poem at all. So I feel you're much above in the layer where you can breath and reading this poem I feel like sinking gradually. Hence your regret gives me a courage that I have to achieve proficiency and have to have the stock of words to move ahead with ease. Thanks for sharing such an important thing and I'm thankful to you.

.The irony is your simplicity in accepting an imaginary struggle you are experiencing while writing the poems whereas the very poem bemoaning the hypothetical issue and a few more submitted long ago are extremely well written with most apt diction displaying your proficiency and command over words adequately needed for penning down poetry in general. You write in this poem: How I envy the ones Who with deft strokes of their pen String words into beautiful clusters With images coalescing on every line And metaphors dancing in rhythmic steps. I feel such a species of poets we do not easily come across on the PH and your eulogy has exceeded all the borders of tracing who, where and when have demonstrated that utopian splendour of talent teeming with unique or perfect ingredients for the expression of thoughts without flaws here and there. CERTAIN POEMS are accidentally created and the impact is such that their own creators often begin to worry about why they cannot repeat the show again and again! Your poem here has enough merit to leave even you pondering for some long period that how you could write such a powerful poem that can withstand the test of time transcending the merits of the probable potential works to be written by you close ahead. Your play with words has smashed your invented verbal phobia that might be just amusing to many of us. Oh poets at large, here is a poem that indirectly communicates to you driving home the idea that most of us struggling with words while writing are no way aware of it and obviously our empty vessels will ever be making great noise as usual. My Professor of English Late Edmund Peters could easily close his eyes when confronted with a question of certain gravity and complex dimension which he alone might answer and say, ' I don`t know the answer of it'. I have ever seen a mischief in his reply that his eyes reflected.... That`s how some knowledgeable people are. Madam Valsa, I think you are one among them - you can`t help being that..... Now I challenge you, Can you show a write absolutely perfect in terms of quality of diction and distinction attributed often on the PH? .....

The word queen envies? Ha! You just keep doing whatever it is that you do, it is all perfect!

Words, slippery slimy words are all that we have To express all that we feel in our tumultuous brains And when they go and hide or refuse to cooperate All we got to do is take a short nap and try again....... Writers block? Good poem Madam and well written..........

For me poetry is an endless journey. i have not yet been able to complete a poem and give final word.. so many times words are slipping with my emotions.. But very true you have stated here, As a woman full with child Impatient to see her babe's tender face.Thank you so much for sharing. Regards.