Witness My Fury by Nada Adel Sobhi - Poem

No more will you hurt me,
Trespass over me and my dignity.
No more will you mock me
For now the flames of my raging fury
Shall torment you forever!

Ever heard of “torturing to insanity”?
Oh well,
You'll know it anyway!

You think you are better than me,
More knowledgeable, more bright,
Well you can forget that now,
You can wish you never crossed my path,
Wish I were a mere nightmare,
But all your wishes will be petty ashes.
I am real!
And the pain I will cause you
Will be too real!

I will make your life a living-hell,
Draw you out of the crowd,
Humiliate you, like you did me;
Agony and misery will be your food and drink,
Torture will be your daily routine.
Your suffering will be my utmost pleasure!

I will be everywhere and in everything
You see, hear, feel, eat, drink

And even dream and breathe!
My fury will bind you, burn you,
And when you scream
No one will care, no one will bother.
Your cries will be sucked into oblivion
And forgotten forever!

You think I lie?
That I am not up to my word?

TRY ME!!

I will writhe every single hope out of you.
Your life and your sleep will be an ever-lasting agony!

The pain, the torture,
The misery, the excruciation
That I will inflict upon you
Will be the most devastating,
The most destructive,
The most wrecking,
The most obliterating of all!!

I will haunt your dreams,
Spoil your joy,
Annihilate all your hope,
I will shatter your very existence!

Death would be your saviour,
Your refuge, your relief,
But I will never kill you,
NEVER!

I will torture you till your brain boils,
Till your heart explodes,
Till your soul fades,
And your sanity will be lost
Forever!

You will be a living corpse,
A vampire would have more feeling,
Would know passion
As opposed to you!

Oh, the living-hell
I will put you through;
Death will be a paradise lost
Never to be regained.
Life will be an agonising 
Ever-lasting inferno!

And I,
I am the one to do it ALL!

They Ride

Once ancient greedy kings,

Now servants on dragons' wings

To do and destroy,

Middle Earth is the Dark Lord's toy!

So, armies and an alliance are made

To overthrow a king,

His armies and his wraiths,

To eradicate evil for good!

Together they ride

From far and wide,

Side by side,

To their doom or glory!

From Rivendell and Lothlorien,

from beneath the mountains,

from the Shire

and from lands of Men.

Together they all ride,

from far and wide,

side by side,

To their doom or glory!

They ride!

With bows and arrows,

with swords, and staffs,

with axes and daggers,

and with rock and stone.

Alongside one other, they fight,

So let this be a remembered night.

When all races together stood,

For evil to stop and for the continuity of good!

Together they all ride,

from far and wide,

side by side,

whether to their doom or to glory!

Let this be a remembered night.

When all races together stood,

for evil to stop and for the continuity of good!

The Metamorphosis - A Commentary

The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka is the first novella I have read for Kafka. Unfortunately, I read in English for my German skills have not reached that level of sophistication. It is nonetheless an interesting piece.

The book published by Bantam Classics comprises an introduction, the novella, explanatory notes to the text, some documents, some critical essays about Kafka, his writing and finally some selected bibliography.

I must say that not only is the introduction a bore; it also contains a spoiler that tells the reader how the story ends. Although, The Metamorphosis is not your average story, still I would have liked some tiny bit left for me as a reader to find out for myself whilst reading.

The book is 201 pages, but the novella itself is only 59 pages long, divided on three chapters. The story begins with the climax, as critic Martin Greenberg points out. (The Metamorphosis, p. 61) “When Gregor Samsa woke one morning from unsettling dreams, he found himself changed in his bed into a monstrous vermin.” (The Metamorphosis, p. 3)

The novella begins with the metamorphosis and throughout there is no reference as to how this transformation occurred or why it did. Despite that, it is an interesting novel, and if it were not for the spoiler in the introduction, it might have been even more interesting. The story begins with a fact and a state of helplessness. Throughout, both the transformed Gregor and his family await another miracle that would change Gregor back to his former self. They hope that things would be back to the way they were; in other words a normal life.

Although the story is written in the third person, the reader cannot help but notice that the dominant atmosphere is that of Gregor. True, the story is about him and his ordeal, but nonetheless, the other characters’ emotions are seen, often, through Gregor himself. The story does not have the amount of action that I would have liked; it is not an action-filled novella, but it is nonetheless not devoid of it. The little things that happen to Gregor become actions in it. The reader cannot help but sympathise with him, for although he wakes up to find himself transformed “into a monstrous vermin”, Gregor constantly desires – or at least wishes to turn back - to save his family from looming poverty and hardship. Gregor sacrifices his life in order to work for the firm so that he can give his parents and sister a comfortable life and pay off his father’s debts. Even as a vermin, he still seeks to do the same – if he could.

Although Grete, Gregor’s sister, is seen as taking up the lead in caring for Gregor at the beginning, towards the end, I, as a reader, feel that she becomes cold and uncaring. She announces to both her parents that it is pointless to say that this monster is her brother and refuses to use Gregor’s name in addressing the creature. Furthermore, the reader sees that Gregor does nothing but work and when he has a few days off, he spends them at home. He has few friends and no one special that he would like to marry. Therefore, when he is transformed, or if we can look at the metamorphosis as an illness, his family begins to care for him but do not wish to see him. They realise the calamity that their sole provider is indisposed and will not be there to assist them or put food on their table. Only then does each family member consider finding a job to support one another. For me, this is selfishness on part of the family. One man, and not the father, works his entire life in a job that he does not like to support a family of four. His father has not worked in five years, since the collapse of the business, the mother is often depicted as too weak to do anything, but nonetheless exerts huge efforts to sew and do a few things around the house, and finally the seventeen-year-old sister who is seen crying for no reason whatsoever at the beginning of the novella, when Gregor would not open the door, takes the lead in giving the transformed Gregor food, cleaning his room and finally in neglecting him. Only when the family members realise that there will be no remedy for Gregor, does each of them find a job to cope with life and to meet their daily needs.

For me, the metamorphosis occurs on several levels, primarily the physical transformation of Gregor; then, there is Grete, who is viewed by her family, particularly her parents, as a child. In the three chapters of the novella, we see Grete’s metamorphosis from a crying child into a young woman who can juggle working as a salesgirl, studying a foreign language to improve her career and taking care of both her parents, at the same time. At the end of the novella, the whole family seems to have grown up to take responsibility of taking care and supporting one another.

The novella ends on a fairly positive note. The family goes out, the first time they had done in months, and are happy to see what a beautiful young woman Grete has become.

Works cited:

Kafka, Franz. The Metamorphosis. New York: Bantam Classics. 2004. Pages 3 and 61.

Wrath

Black

Is not my colour.
It is red;
Blood red…

Black is nice,

Calm and understanding
But always,
Misunderstood.

No.

I'm not like that.
I do not care for you
As sweet Black does.

No!

I do not like the dark;
It is far too quiet for me.

No!

I yearn to be heard.
I like to pierce the silence.

Zeus' thunderbolt,

Poseidon's trident,
Hades' staff,
Should be my toys of destruction.

I indulge in pain,

In red-and-orange flame.

The sight of blood

Soothes me,
Caresses me,
Intoxicates me…

I am a prey to pain,

To snares and demonic games.

Yes!
Bury your thoughts,
Hide them in your little shell,
Hide and lock them away,
Till I come for them.

Then,

My hell-hounds will howl,
Break free and roam loose!
No wall or weapon
Can keep them at bay.

People,

They will tear to pieces.
Aye,
And your soul too.

Rage and roar

My wrathful friend,
Rage,
And let nothing hold you back!

Phantom

 

His hooves fall to the ground, the land shakes beneath them, bending to his steady gallops. His silky mane, tail and muscular body are darker than coal. On the earth’s vast meadows he roams wild and free; his neighs pierce the sky, yet mingle with the majestic music of the forest. His unsurpassed speed gives him his name: Phantom.

The Team and Me

‘You’re an important part of the team,’ they said, and yet a simple ‘Thank you’ I rarely get. It’s hard to feel appreciated when you’re waging in a sea of your own. They are a team; they have been for a while now. I know that at some point they were all mere strangers, but the barriers melted away with time; I don’t see my barriers budging anywhere anytime soon.

I’m different. What I do is different. I only feel part of ‘the team’ when there’s a crisis or when I’m needed, otherwise I feel like I’m just occupying space.

I try to talk and hang out with x, y and z, but they’re all so busy, or just busy, or just conversing with others, so I feel like a load and I hate feeling or being that, so I just silently occupy the space at my desk.

It’s been some seven months since I started working here and to be honest, with myself, I had expectations that were all obliterated. I admit: I want more. I don’t mean financially, coz I honestly and currently don’t care less, but I want more work, more life, more vigour, more fun.

I do not regret leaving my old and first work place for I must try something different and I am sure I have learnt many things here that I would never have learnt or encountered there. But still, there needs to be more to life than just trudging to work or just trudging out of bed every morning.

The status quo (to use a Latinism for a change) in Egypt is far from heart-warming and is certainly affecting everyone everywhere, no matter what they do or how they try to hide it.

It could be that; I’m sure ‘the team’ plays a role in my cold anger at the world and myself. Everything just seems so messed up and for an ambitious perfectionist, that’s just bad!

Where do I go from here? I haven’t a clue, but I most certainly need to find inspiration to get back in my ‘groove’ so I can begin my journey to being ‘Me’ again.

Good luck to me – and everyone else.

Spiritual Union

Thousands gather under a golden ornate roof

To pray to the one and only Allah.

I see masses of men and women

From all walks of life,

From all lands of this earth,

From all races, from all colours,

Dressed in beige, orange and blue,

In shades of every hue;

Different languages, different faces,

All under one roof,

All praying to Allah,

All seeking his forgiveness for their sins,

Seeking a place in his promised Paradise.

Some sit under the mosque's golden roof,

Others underneath the golden sun;

Tens of thousands paying homage to Allah.

Written 1^st of February 2013.

This piece was inspired by the Prophet's Mosque (Al-Masjid Al-Nabawy) in Al-Madinah, in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. But it can also be applied to Al-Masjid Al-Haram in Makkah, though I was inspired to write this before going to Makkah.

Sea Encounter (Untitled)

The wind caresses the blossoming flowers and leaves,

The waves flow softly to the rhythm of the breeze;

While he watches her from afar;

She is more beautiful than the brightest star.

Silently,

He glides amongst the rocks in the sea.

Slowly,

He moves closer to better, her, see.

The air plays with her hair,

Gently and with a lot of care.

Oblivious, she reads a book,

Unaware that she’ll be caught in a hook.

‘Hello’, he says, piercing the silence.

Startled, she falls off the rock.

Looking at him, her eyes sparkle like diamonds.

She gazes silently for she is in shock.

Before her, a handsome young man, from the water sprung,

The words in her mouth there just hung;

Bare at the chest he was and with a fish-tail at the end,

Fantasy and reality, for her, seemed to blend.

‘Closer, I cannot come,’ he said,

‘For I am a man of the sea.’

To the shore, he motioned his head.

Closer, she ventured to, the Merman, see.

A foot in the water, then the other;

It was crystal cold, but she did not bother.

His face, she touched, and his hair;

He was real, not illusion, not air.

Soon the clouds between them cleared,

And on and on they talked

Till the moon and stars appeared

Then, ‘Farewell’, they bid, and away she walked,

Always turning her head to see

If the Merman was still visible in the sea.

Tomorrow, a new day will come,

Their friendship has only just begun.

(My attempt to reverse The Little Mermaid. I don't know if the rhyme may be slightly forced, but I hope you like it)

Emerald Eyes

Emerald Eyes

Careful!

Lest her emerald eyes see you!

For she will catch you unawares;

Her grasp is worse than a pack

Of hungry grizzly bears!

Careful!
Lest she catches your scent,

For on the lives of men she is bent

On taking her revenge!

Careful!

Lest word of your presence reaches her ears,

For then flee will all your fears,

For what is to come we will never hear!

Her tale remains unknown; conjectures have failed

For to seek the truth, one must, her, meet

And none have ever returned,

Neither individual men, nor entire kings' fleets!

Careful!

Her emerald eyes glow in the dead of the night.

She will catch you unawares,

And for your life will begin your fight!

The Dwarf Prince by Nada Adel Sobhi - Poem

  

A mighty warrior with a painful past

Through shadows he treads, and across plains vast

Bearing the burden of a burnt down home

But in this dilemma, he stands not alone.

Years have passed but the fire in him has not died,

He has summoned allies of old to his side.

With a key and a song, his journey begins,

Alongside a Hobbit, a Wizard and thirteen of his kin.

Neither the pain nor the fury will subside,

For regaining his homeland is part of his pride.

Anger, revenge and victory, he seeks

As he passes through dungeons deep and across highest peaks.

For too long he has roamed and waited

The storm in his heart can no longer be abated.

He travels by day and by darkest night.

And for his companions, he will always stand and fight.

The tale of Thorin Oakenshield, the Dwarf Prince will be told,

Who sought not precious gems and glittering gold,

Nor treasures hidden in caverns old,

But for Home, he has travelled through 'the Misty Mountains cold'.

Written Thursday 20-12-2012, at 3:00 am

Note: 'the Misty Mountains cold' in this order and punctuation is taken from the Dwarves' Song in The Hobbit, chapter 1.

Like Magic

Sifting through my stuff I found something light, something different.

Fingers intertwined

Eyes interlocked

Your smile

Takes my breath away

Your perfume

Takes my senses to the moon

My whole body pulses

At the touch of your hand,

My body arches and moans

- silently –

At the touch of your lips

You have enchanted me!

And yet,

I love the spell that bewitched me!

I adore the wizard that cast it

And I want nothing more

Than to be his darling witch

For as long as there is magic in the world

There will always be 'love'.

Untitled - In Progress

This part/section was written during a Short Story Writing Workshop. I plan to continue it soon; though I am not sure if this will be the beginning of the story or will come in the middle. There are other parts; bits and pieces but I'd rather keep them for later. 

Here goes:

Arya was the quiet sort, who buried her feelings, the good, the sorrowful, the angry and anything in between, in the many-flavoured chocolate bars in her fridge, though she occasionally fed her anxiety grilled chicken or sausages. She was munching on a raspberry-filled chocolate bar as she held the locket for the zillionth time. It was the same and yet every time she held it, fear and excitement gushed through her being. She went under her bed, opened the little chest hidden in the darkness underneath and beheld the magnificent diamond enclosed within.

The doorbell rang, startling her. She hit her head on the bed-boards, took another look at the diamond, and quickly shut and sealed the chest. She crawled out, adjusted her clothes, hid the locket and opened the door.

It was her best friend Marc.

No. He wasn't ready yet.