Metamorphosis
I woke up this morning
With a feeling of dread;
I felt I was a-borning,
Where I'd be better if dead!
I woke up to religion,
My brother was some other,
I belonged to a region,
All issues were my bother.
What was once a call to prayer
Was so much noise to me,
I wanted to strip the layer,
Hidden idols there to see.
Where dress scarcely mattered,
(Pugh, burkha, saffron scarf)
My fragile beliefs lay tattered,
Common sense would dwarf.
My angst would not be bottled,
Imagined slights would rile me,
Your freedom makes me feel throttled,
I won't let things be as they be.
I'd take up a gun tomorrow,
Set right things as I deem fit.
Notions of nations make me sorrow,
As causes just waver and flit.
I am so lost and adrift,
Have donned the mantle of Samsa,
A vermin in thought is my shift,
An abhorrent creature of Kafka!
~kcm
(Gregor Samsa wakes up one morning changed into a vermin, a cockroach, in Franz Kafka's Metamorphosis. Just wondered if our minds have undergone this type of change)
Categories:
gregor, allegory, dark, emotions, introspection,
Form: Rhyme
Powerful, these blitzing beams -
Scorching rays that gleam
Upon raging surf.
Collision of wave and rock -
Resounding, hissing spray:
The fireworks of the sea.
These waves halt for no one.
I am a speck...
A miniscule spot of corroded sand
Nestled within the endless shore.
But that I were a slab of stone -
Fiercely contesting the tide:
Foam and algae markers of will.
Odysseus strings his fatal bow
While I await my metamorphosis:
Where is Kafka when you need him?
Categories:
gregor, angst, beach, color, growing
Form: Free verse
After morning prayer, he runs off to his garden.
Brother Gregor spends more time with pea plants than his fellow men.
I see him taking notes now and then.
His activities indeed seem like a strange task.
Why is he doing it? Nobody is brave enough to ask.
One day, I hope all of his labor eventually pays.
Gregor may even become famous one of these days.
Our Lord certainly moves in mysterious ways.
Categories:
gregor, dedication, science,
Form: Rhyme
The Monk and His Genes
George Gregor Mendel.
Socialized with beans and tendrils.
He never planned to marry
After he and genes did tarry.
© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
January 22, 2010
Poetic form: Clerihew
Categories:
gregor, funny, history
Form: Clerihew