Thursday 27 October 2011

Before the Law (my interpretation of Franz Kafka's short story)

My curiosity had brought me …to the gates of The Law
But all progress was halted… I could venture no more

A Gatekeeper there stood… who obstructed my path
With his menacing demeanour …and a soul filled with wrath

Warning not to continue… on my journey ahead
For more frightening will face me: The thought filled me with dread

Though my hunger for knowledge… of what lay inside
Simply would not relent …it just would not subside

But he held firm with his caution… of the immanent danger
So now who do I trust …myself or this stranger?

Held back with uncertainty, burdened with apprehension
Unsure of my fate… I’m held here in suspension

So I patiently waited, hoping he would relent
But time just marched on, with opportunities spent

As my life drifted on, and the years passed me by
All that remained… was just waiting to die

The end brought me courage… to enquire of this gate
Though I was informed, it was just for my fate

And thus when I am gone, it will be closed up and locked
I’ve no time to be sorry, nor time to be shocked

I think of all those ambitions, of those things I’ve desired
For the unique opportunities… that left me inspired

Although I look back and wish for… this chance once again
It is time to accept… this is where I’ll remain

But the long-term companion I chose …it was fear
Controlling my choices… it drove me to despair

So now at the end… I am filled with regret
The price that I’ve paid …is a terrible debt

And what of the lesson …I chose to endure?
It was my time spent in judgement… Before The Law!

Michael Major, 
London UK, 
mike@kafkaforourtime.com 

Thursday 20 October 2011

London Bridge

London bridge, falling
In the life and times
Of my great recluse.
The link is broken-
Chains rattle
At the disjoined ends.

I left behind
The truth
The lies
What lay in between.
Wire mesh
Of twisted tales.
Pricking
The leaden heart.

You stood
On the other side.
The icy river
Divided us.
Death
Finally did us part.

Maryam B. Mirza
Lahore, Pakistan 

Saturday 8 October 2011

Before My Funeral

Her finger at my cheek,
Voice timid and meek,
I see the ends of her lips shiver,
Words dying there which she couldn't utter,

She choked and smiled and cried anew,
And her soul whispered, I love you,
She looked at me, her eyes red,
As I lost the love I once had,

Then she asked that which I feared,
'How can you be so hard on me dear..
Was everything a lie you said,
Was it never there, the love we had?'

I shook my head, my eyes bowed low,
I was crying and she shouldn't know,
How can you be so hard? She asked again.
My love, you stone, said her eyes in pain,
I wanted to console but could find no way,
How do I tell her I am dying today?

-Aftab Yusuf Shaikh

Mumbai, India
ayshaikh@live.in