Valsa George Poet Free verse

Notes About The Poem

August- 11- 2025

Marathon Mile. 6. Poetry Contest

Sponsor-  Mark Toney 

Delusions

 A thousand bees never settling down,
       buzzed within his head.
    Their confused drone, into a ruffled rumble grew, 
    lengthening into frenzied drum beats,
               taking the might of roaring waves
          or gaining the momentum 
                 of a plane, prior to take off.

 Mind lacking coordination
          limbs receiving discordant commands,
      he suddenly hurtled into the streets, 
              stepping out from regimented norms
        and breaking loose the tether of reason, 
   never walking, never running 
     but scuttling from side to side
              like a piece of driftwood over the current.

   Hearing the cawing of a crow 
      suddenly, he into a prophet grew.
          stood with arms outstretched,
    waiting for the crumb of bread
    to be dropped in the manner Elijah was fed 
     by the raven in his lonesome cave.

   Seeing the audience swelling bigger 
   he was enthused, greatly cheered.
           The riff- raff and the scraps
      swarmed around to see the show.

    Mounting the steps to the pulpit,
            in unfaltering voice
          and with fire in his words,
       to the congregation,
     surveying him with fun and sneer, he thundered....
                                      
              “The Doomsday is near”
    
With finality in his tone, he said- 
            “Repent and flee from the wrath to come.
         The tree that doesn’t bring forth, 
      good fruits shall be hewn down, 
                and cast into eternal fire.”

     The transition was quite easy.
         He scurried from Elijah to John the Baptist
     and from John the Baptist to Elijah
   oscillating between-- 
       sense and non-sense.

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Bill Baker August 13, 2025 at 5:21 PM To be overcome with the vision of the coming tragedy of the many can have devastating effects of one's state of mind. Such is the case of a delusional voice crying out justifiably to those that need to hear of a way to be saved from the coming devastation. Dynamic and powerful poetry, my dear friend. Another FAV for my list, dear Valsa. Good luck as you write through this poetic marathon ... may your successes be many, we are the benefactors of your poetic words. Love, Bill

Jay Narain August 11, 2025 at 10:03 AM your poem resonates as a striking narrative of mind, myth, and meaning—revealing how the boundaries between madness and divinity are at once porous and compelling. Thanks for sharing it.

Victor Buhagiar August 11, 2025 at 8:28 AM How sad, one can always pity such children. When I go to oncology for small treatment, I always feel sad. We all need strength, dear Valsa.

Sara Kendrick August 11, 2025 at 7:10 AM Well, I can understand the insanity with which this person suffered. So sad that humans suffer from such illnesses, but they do. My grandson has Huntington's Disease and part of the illness is that the person can suffer from one or more than one of these illnesses at one time: schizophrenia, bi-polar, paranoia, plus they also have chorea mixed in. The chorea part can be also show up as rigidity. There are some medicines that help provided they take them, but it always results in death. continue Sara Kendrick August 11, 2025 at 7:13 AM Their death usually comes from aspiration of food into their lungs and resulting in infection unless God spares them of that. I could feel the emotion, pain and suffering of the person of whom you were writing. Great work. It reads like a good contender for the contest. Way to go. Sara K

Rowena Velasco August 11, 2025 at 5:27 AM Wow, this poem really paints a wild picture! I love the buzzing bees in the head and how the guy goes from total chaos to this fiery, almost prophetic vibe. The way it flips between sense and nonsense feels super real and raw. Definitely a cool, intense read!

Joseph P. DiMino August 11, 2025 at 5:02 AM "He scurried from Elijah to John the Baptist and from John the Baptist to Elijah oscillating between-- sense and non-sense." -- Wow! Great writing! Only the Father knows. You get a FAV!

Sotto Poet August 11, 2025 at 3:19 AM Pleasing it is to ponder your stirring words. Your verse delves into the depths of madness and the light of prophecy, painting the delicate boundary where sanity meets insanity, as one wanders through confusion toward a fleeting spark of divine insight. It ponders the stormy depths of a soul, one who bears the weight of visions, revealing the wild and restless spirit of such a change.