Kafka/Leaves, oil on paper
Freedom as a Possession
Nevertheless freedom, nevertheless a possession
—Kafka
The wretched business of freedom
goes on like masquerading bugs
in the fibers of splintered boards
that ride out the months,
minimally attended to.
Every nuance of this, our weather,
is felt, nay lived, by such bugs
as we are, rolling over
in our beds of wilderness
shimmed in the concrete
expanse that we say
only God can see past.
Kafka is one of the first writers to turn me on to the possibilities of the imagination in the written word. As an artist, he has remained one of my biggest inspirations. As a person, I admire his endeavor to become healthy. This month a companion poem to Freedom as a Possession has been published on the great website for writers, Every Writer's Resource. The poem, equally brief, is entitled A Day at the Office. I've also published a piece on Kafka's letter to his father at Escape into Life.
I believe in freedom as a state of mind. Nevertheless, I also believe there are times to fight for our beliefs. Tomorrow this blog will go dark in protest of SOPA and PIPA. Go here to read about these bills, and go here to use your blog in protest.
It should go dark when talking about those crappy acts, completely stupid.
ReplyDeleteBut yeah verse was great like the idea of freedom presented, although sometimes the restraints can weigh down a bit.
The restraints of freedom, hmmm... I may feel another poem coming on. Thanks Pat.
Deletei used to read kafka as a teenager...and was scared to death...remember the story where he becomes a bug and then get swept away by the woman, doing the household...the angst of becoming meaningless, invisible, thrown away.. was just too much for me... had sleepless nights...think i always was way too sensitive with things like that...and still are... but i agree that he's an awesome writer...and much like your poem mark
ReplyDeleteClaudia, it's worse than you remember. On some level his family knows the bug is really him, they attack him and allow him to crawl away to die.
DeleteI've just written to Congress on this. It's a terrible thing. I'd like to block my site as well, but I'm fearful of putting code, etc. in the blog, as I had a terrible problem recently that cost hundreds of dollars to get fixed. Is there something, like an icon, that can be put on the site, as opposed to blocking it for the day?
ReplyDeletesopa images via #sopa on twitter:
Deletehttps://twitter.com/#!/search/%23sopa/grid/photos
soap strike website:
http://sopastrike.com/
I've finally figured out an alternative for those who, like me, might have difficulty with the code-embedding/plug-in approaches: put up a "Stop SOPA/PIPA" post at 8AM (this can be automatically scheduled). I have some text currently in my sidebar which anyone should feel free to use. This will become the head post on my blog tomorrow at 8AM.
DeletePS: On the subject of Kafka, first off, your EIL post is fascinating--I've responded over there. This poem is also terrific. Love the phrase "shimmed in the concrete/expamse."
Thanks for reading the article. I can't figure out how to paste the code properly either. I'll go with a post like you.
DeleteUh-mm, Thank you for inspiring me to google this artist or writer that I've been hearing of.
ReplyDeleteHey, Mark- I checked out your publications- congrats! I really liked A Day at the Office... now was the bug here the same pummeled palmetto? bug
ReplyDeletemark love the grit in your voice in this verse....great textures withe the bugs through out...and the message as well...scary stuff happening in the halls of our country...i am on a petition or two somewhere since i first heard about it....
DeleteLaurie: These are both 'Kafka poems' because of the bug references and because they both have a feeling about them that I get from Kafka. I wrote them one after the other, 'Freedom' first. The quote (which I think is a real nut) comes from the last line of his story "Investigations of a Dog".
Deletegreat first line... and the ... beds of wilderness
ReplyDeleteshimmed in the concrete
expanse oppressive and claustrophobic in its contradiction...
I agree with Brian - I loved the grittiness of this poem ... the images are superb
ReplyDeleteGreat poem, Mark and great way to make you viewpoints known.
ReplyDeleteThis is an excellent poem. Marousia used the perfect descriptor: gritty.
ReplyDeleteFirst, the picture of despair and futility in your poem is nonetheless encouraging in its stubbornness, and disregard of the ugly involved in fighting for what you don;t just want, but need. liked the companion piece as well. Second, thanks for providing the links and resources to protest without taking my blog down, as blogger suggests all kinds of way over my head things with my template that I can't imagine working out well. But I can follow Susan's suggestion and steal a pic or two. It's ridiculous that one segment of the entertainment industry--a one that's dying from its own invalidity and top-heaviness, is able to get this beastly crap to the legislative floor, when no one can get anything else done up there at all except politickin and pocket pickin.
ReplyDeleteMoney rules, doesn't it? Hollywood or Exxon, makes no difference.
DeleteFine work for hard times, Mark. hugs...j
ReplyDeleteIt took me several readings to get to the meaning of your poem; when I got there, I thought the journey wholly worthwhile.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your sensible advice re writing, Mark. I'm grateful.
I'm following your lead, Mark. Thanks!
ReplyDelete