A Note For Franz Kafka
one morning
when i discover
that i have turned
into a cockroach
you may write
what i will
do
you may theorize
that since i will be
to shy to go out
of my room just like
what your character did
then i may lock my
room, not eat,
and only talk to
my sister
that i may soon hate
my father
and will soon forget
my mother
i can relate to all
these based on my
readings
but i can see
what i can do
when i stink and
soon fear light
when even the air
which is suppose to
hush a lullaby
now hurts too
just like the rest
of those who
are close to me
and turn themselves
into disgusting monsters
more disgusting
than my being a
human-cockroach
you know very well
that i am brave enough
to force the door
to the other room
the one that none of
you has ever entered
i can use a knife
an ax or a hand grenade
i can even use a bomb
to break this
back door open
i am brave and
will always be restless
on a broken wing
of a bird i can
always still manage
to fly
away.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
Prelude To Kafka
one morning
when i discover
that i have turned
into a cockroach
you may write
what i will
do
you may theorize
that since i will be
to shy to go out
of my room just like
what your character did
then i may lock my
room, not eat,
and only talk to
my sister
that i may soon hate
my father
and will soon forget
my mother
i can relate to all
these based on my
readings
but i can see
what i can do
when i stink and
soon fear light
when even the air
which is suppose to
hush a lullaby
now hurts too
just like the rest
of those who
are close to me
and turn themselves
into disgusting monsters
more disgusting
than my being a
human-cockroach
you know very well
that i am brave enough
to force the door
to the other room
the one that none of
you has ever entered
i can use a knife
an ax or a hand grenade
i can even use a bomb
to break this
back door open
i am brave and
will always be restless
on a broken wing
of a bird i can
always still manage
to fly
away.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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THE Metamorphosis of F. Kafka
one day
he finds himself converted into
a giant cockroach
he does not know about it at first
until he wakes up
and looks at himself in the mirror
he changes his taste for food
now attracted to left overs
dislikes water and
light
dislikes people and
events
and cannot relate to the morning
news on TV
his door has now remained closed
and no one is allowed to enter
except his dear sister
who feeds him
morsels
in time he begins to understand
how is it to be a cockroach
how humans have been too cruel
to their state
and then
he writes about Kafka and
The Metamorphosis
that is the real story
until the cockroach dies
until Kafka recovers again
away from
Ward 10.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Allegory Of The Cycle Of Doors
and so there is this door that appears before you
and you open it
and then when you enter the room
another door appears
this is the cycle of doors that keep on appearing and you
keep on opening
but the room still appears from a distance
always distant
from your eager feet to enter
you say to enter the room i must please the door
but the room moves away just the same
and the door tells you
to keep the room
you have to burn it and when the room is burned
the door finally disappears
and then both the door and the room shall tell you
now be happy
for you now have a house of your own
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In my house
You enter a room to see a park
You close a door only to be led to another stairway
Leading you to another room with nothing but windows
You close a window the rest remains open
You close the windows and another door
In that park in the room where you just entered
Opens
Then you are confused about the roof that opens
To a river to the rocks where another door opens
To a wall with trees and birds and butterflies
This is weird you say, this is really weird
Then from the garage comes a wind that blows
Its horn like a car
I have just arrived offering you an explanation
For all these mess, these uncertainties, these self-made
confusions.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Welcome To The Door Of Freedom
this is the door of freedom
you just got in
i have a room beyond this room
no one has entered yet
between this door and my room
is a space
this is where some pieces of my are left
but soon they will be taken back
to be kept inside my palms
to be hidden once again from you
when you get in
you will be introduced to the ritual of knowing
what you do not know
what you cannot know
what shall be hidden forever from you
and you shall be a little bit
disappointed
but you must insist
you have to repeat your name many times
you will sort out the letters
there are onions and chilies
they will make you cry
and then you will wish upon another door
this time it is your door
towards your own room
you will doubt about breathing
about windows and exits
and then you begin to ask
if all these are worth it
you decide.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Her Mother Doesn't Know.
Rosina's baby sister died.
The cot stood empty
in the darkened room.
Don't go in there
her mother said.
Rosina opened the door
and peered through
the gap instead.
The toys were still there
by the pink pillow and cover.
Leave the room alone
said her grieving mother.
Moonlight shone upon
the place where baby sister
once turned her face
and smiled or made
her baby noise.
Quiet now the room.
Unplayed with
the idle toys.
Mother cried at night
and often in the day
and stared through
the window at the far off bay.
Father was away
in some distant war
keeping his head down
in some foreign land.
Rosina's baby sister
was buried deep
beneath the ground
in a small white coffin
dressed in a ghostly shroud
with songs sung sadly
and tears in the crowd.
Rosina peered through
the gap of the door
at the cot
and moonlight's glow.
She's seen her baby sister's
ghostly smile
but mother doesn't know.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Room
(chris waters/tom shapiro)
When I pull in the drive where your car used to be
It doesnt hurt me like it used to
I can walk through the door, and not wonder anymore
Where you are, like I used to
I can go down the hall, see the pictures on the wall
And not miss you
But I just cant bring myself to go into..
The room
Where I spent every night with you
And the light of the moon
Came through the window
And I held you
We were so close
And its just too soon
For me to go into the room
Id remember too much if I opened that door
And Im not sure if I could face it
The beds emptiness would remind me youre with
Someone else, and I couldnt take it
So, I sleep on the couch in our living room now
Since our love died
cause Im still not ready yet to go inside...
The room
Where I spent every night with you
And the light of the moon
Came through the window
And I held you
We were so close
And its just too soon
For me to go into the room
Where the light of the moon
Came through the window
And I held you
We were so close
And its just too soon
For me to go into the room
song performed by by Wade Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In My Room
There's a world where I can go and tell my secrets to
In my room, in my room
In this world I lock out all my worries and my fears
In my room, in my room
Do my dreaming and my scheming
Lie awake and pray
Do my crying and my sighing
Laugh at yesterday
Now it's dark and I'm alone
But I won't be afraid
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In My Room
Theres a world where I can go and tell my secrets to
In my room, in my room
In this world I lock out all my worries and my fears
In my room, in my room
Do my dreaming and my scheming
Lie awake and pray
Do my crying and my sighing
Laugh at yesterday
Now its dark and Im alone
But I wont be afraid
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
In my room, in my room
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walk Into This Room
Dont let em get to your heart
Dont lose your diamonds swimmin in a lake when its (? ? )
The whole wide world feels like a shrine built to the worker bees
Who stole it from God anyhow
Lay it down child
Lay it down child
And walk into this room
Dont let em get to your spark
That little light in the back of everything that says this
Isnt for madder love
The whole wide world feels like a clan of mad scientists removing the juice
So they can freeze-dry you and put you in a box
Lay it down child
Lay it down child
And walk into this room all made with love for you
Lay it down child
You can
You can
Lay it down child
And walk into this room
A hundred candles to make the walls come alive
A little frank insence to sweeten the air just right
Now take my hand
And open the door
And open the door
Yeah, oh...
Yeah, oh...
Lay it down child
You can
You can
Lay it down child
And walk into this room
Walk into this room
Lay it down child
Just lay it down, lay it down
Lay it down
Lay it down, lay it down
Into this room
song performed by by Live
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Missing Link
A sickly child lie
frail on the sofa in the living room.
A knock on the door,
His mother opened.
The man who entered the child knew it was his father.
Whose child is this?
“It is your youngest son” his mother said.
The children in the street
all had a father; the child had waited for him.
But his father ignored him,
gave chocolate to his sister and brother,
then he drank from a bottle,
his mother threw him out.
Next day asked his mother, ” are you sure he is my father? ”
She slapped her son’s face and cried.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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A little Ghost Story
As I was going to bed
I turned out my light
tucked myself in
on a long winter's night
All of a sudden
I heard a door squeak
I thought someone was in my house
so I decided to take a peak
I heard the wind blow hard
and started to shiver with fear
and heard some noises again
but this time I knew I was near
I went into the living room
and noticed my door was opened wide
squeaking back and forth
I laughed so hard I almost cried
So I decided to go back up to my room
When I heard some terrible cries
I rushed to my room real quick
but a ghost stopped me in surprise
I ran and yelled
and I ran outside my house right then
and decided I would never
go back to that house again
At my new house
I turned out the light
you can probably guess
what went on that night
poem by Shaina Lloyd
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BREAKING THE DOOR OPEN (revised)
on that day when i lost the key
to the room
i waited for some solutions
perhaps i shall break the lock
or smash the door or remove the door jams
or climb on the other side of the house
and enter through the window
but my arms for breaking
are weaker now
my hands tremble at the thought
that once in my childhood
i did climb a wall and break open
the window
and was so badly beaten
that i could hardly stand and walk
back home
i keep on waiting for some solutions
until i realized that anyway
this is not my room of destiny
and there is nothing
in there that is worth my trouble
and so
not being that foolish enough
(or hopeless to say the least)
i simply walked away
with nothing on my shoulder to carry
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Room That Was Locked
we talk about nothing last night
and for the past few nights about the room that was locked.
long time ago, even the mere mention of that room
they remember, the old folks always reminded us
of the penalties, for the mere use of words,
and there was fear and there was the suppressed silence
that eventually bothered each of those who thought about it,
except for one man, who one day, with all his anger,
got a bit piece of wood, the one left by the termites,
and hit the room that was always locked, and when its
door was broken, they all went it, to know what secret lies
inside the abandoned room that was forbidden.
to their aghast, there is nothing there.
except perhaps, the mere fear about its being forbidden.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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L8,2212
There is a door which you open
you enter, and then it closes you
behind you
forever,
there is no force here,
but only volition,
you enter it
with all the warnings,
that the
possibility that it will close forever
has been told to you
over and over
again,
somehow, you do not make it a problem
you like a closed door, and you hate it
when it opens,
you love it when it is closed forever,
the room is nice
there is a certain loveliness
in there,
it has shiny floors,
it has a bright ceiling,
the lights are lovely,
like stars
in an open dark sky
the air is fresh,
the walls are comfortable
who wants to take an exit?
no one.not you.
when the door knows this, it will open
forever,
it decides to open for you
and it will tell you to go out and be
an outsider again and
be gone
for good,
you insist that you own this room now,
that a closed door is not a serious matter
and there is no way that you have to
go out
or be ousted,
the door has a stair with strong hands
and it will drag you out
it will pull your hair and drag your body
like hell
the door has learned its lesson
when the room is not a prison to someone else
there is no use keeping him there forever
for in truth the reason of the door's
existence
is to make you feel the prison and to suffer
and you know your lesson too well
there is no prison to a mind that is an open window
there is no suffering
to a lover of suffering
you see, it takes a little reverse psychology
for closed doors to open
for men to know that suffering is not suffering
at all
when one loves is tripping
when one thinks
otherwise
when one loves whatever happens
when one accepts
the one that is there and not look for something
that is always missing
why go for the unreachable?
why suffer for long?
life is life, and death is death
you are here, grab this here.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Door I Open To Close
The door I open to close behind me,
Would be less routine...
If I knew,
You'd be awaiting in a room...
To greet me like you use to do.
With a barrage of pent up sentiments.
The door I open to close behind me,
Welcomes me with a peaceful silence...
I did not always find,
When remembering those times...
I wondered where you were,
And that disturbed me.
Today,
When I open that same door to close...
After missing you,
And going through those adjustments we made...
I think of us not having enough trust,
And so willing to give up.
When all I wanted was just five minutes...
To myself.
And you could never understand why.
The door I open to close behind me,
Would be less routine...
If I knew,
You'd be awaiting in a room...
To greet me like you use to do.
Sometimes now I wish,
I had given you ten minutes.
Since that's all you wanted from me to listen.
I'm all ears now,
Wanting to hear your voice!
But you made a choice to leave.
And I can not blame you for choosing to.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Cockroach
a cockroach flies above my head
and lands
near my feet
my instinct kills it outright
with a sudden stamp and there
the cockroach lies
smashed and dead
i smell stink
and never felt any regret.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Another Learning
there is a door
between us as though
we are just
two adjacent rooms
to enter into your door
i need to have that key
you keep on telling me
the key was lost and you
do not know
where to find it anymore
there is another door
and you are allowing someone else to come in
at first i say 'This is unfair! ' and
I thought of forcing
that door open
on the other hand
i have my own door too
and the lock is broken
a long time ago i have
thrown out the key
for what use is a door with
a broken lock?
and for what use is your door
to my prayer?
i do not know what force is &
i already stopped begging
i change the frames of my window
i have some other plans in mind
there are nine planets in our
galaxy
there are many galaxies
in unlimited space
and like all those who still hope
they always know
that someone somewhere keeps
on waiting
in a world where doors welcome me
like arms in half-embrace
and so i go to places where
my feet are welcome
& i have learned the happiness
of forgetting.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Stubborn (Psalm 151)
there's a whole lotta stubborn in this room
there's a whole lotta pride that won't let go
there's a whole lotta stubborn in this room
that shows no sign of givin' up control
i've drawn all the curtains
i've turned out all the lights
scared to death somebody else might see
there's a whole lotta stubborn in this room
and there's no one here but me
there's a whole lotta demons in this room
they want it all, and they don't wanna share
there's a whole lotta demons in this room
and none of them believe in fightin' fair
some sit on my left, some sit on my right
they talk so loud it's hard to disagree
i'm surrounded by the demons in this room
and there's no one here but me
and i can't quite remember how to
pray anymore
and i can't quite remember what to
say anymore
if it turns out that i can't have my way anymore
how will i know which way to turn
when i walk out the door
there's a molecule of faith in this room
what they used to call a mustard seed
there's a molecule of faith in this room
and a book that says that's all i'll ever need
I don't know where it is, but i hope i find
it soon
'cause nothin' else will ever set me free
there's a molecule of faith in this room
and even though it's much to small to see
if i have the courage to believe
i'll find the one who left it here for me
song performed by by Lee Ann Womack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Repost Of The Past Poem
i step out of the door
from my dark room the windows are not open
it is humid and cold
i step out of the door the windows are still closed
i lock the door and step upon a patch of green grass
the dews are hanging on the blades and shaken
i look upon the sky
and there is this star still shining
despite the opening of the mouth of the morning
i was in deep slumber
i close my eyes
i see your face but i promise there shall be no tears.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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