Stillborn Poem by Valsa George
Stillborn
As I closed my door and lay down to sleep
A poem came and violently knocked at my door
Being quite late, I put a rein on my desire to admit it in
Even in my sleep I could hear the faint sound of a knock
In the wee hours of the morn, as I sat up to house it
Only scattered phrases and broken lines floated around
A crazy excitement made me trap them in ink
But nothing worthwhile showed up on the writing pad
I found I had only violated the virginity of the paper
After hours of spasmodic labour pain
What came out was a stillborn with no heart beats
It lay limp before me and all excitement died down
It’s still body, I found had closely resembled me
Something of me was there stamped on it
How could I who had parented it
Callously discard it in a dustbin?
So I carefully stashed it away in a secret place
Where no one’s prying eyes would ever fall over it!
It's an excellent poem depicting a situation that I think happens with every poet at some point in time. At least, it happens with me not too infrequently. Sometimes I am able to retrieve partially but more often, I am not. Sometimes, while trying to retrieve, I scratch out something new altogether. Thanks for sharing this experience.
So I carefully stashed it away in a secret place A logical solution to the most common problem. Maybe later developments will be able to bring life to the stillborn baby. Thank you for a beautiful poem.
It happens with all the poets but everyone is not capable like Valsa to describe it in such a beautiful poem. Valsa is Valsa...................10
Would love to see that one which you think was still born. Please don't stash it away from your readers' sight. Poesy is strongest when we are slumberous and too lazy to get up and capture it on paper. What filter's down to paper during our so-called waking hours is only a hang-over of it. Like the beautiful dreams that we often remember in bits and traces. Beautiful poem. (10)
what a comparison! yes it happens to me too. Idea to start something, motivation to do something, plans in mind and left half way... so many things go this way with me. I'm glad that are people out there, who make me feel that i am whole, even spite of undone rights. liked the way you put them down.
An excellent and captiving poem I like most. Best collocation. Many thanks.
I have been in these shoes many times. I now find myself, if a poem is running around inside my head, jumping up in the middle of the night, so as not to forget words if they come me. Loved you poem! !
Wonderfully worded and excellently express. I will add it to my poem list!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:30:21 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I have experienced the same thing. Sometimes I struggle to resuscitate it, but if it can't be saved, I bury it in a drawer and mourn its loss. Excellent poem, Valsa.