Kafka Re-Trial

Kafka lands resurrected in Crewe deposited by a silvery alien craft, And whilst he is wondering what to do He is asked to show his pass Or pay an instant one off fine At a cash dispenser of his choice And they are checking all the time On his irises face and voice.

And of course they find that he is not, They discover he just cannot be there, Although he seems as if he is visible, And has hands and toes and hair, If he is not on the Great Data Bank, He plainly and simply cannot be, He is not listed and he is not ranked He is surely not like you and me.

So they cant detain him in custody But they do not have to let him go He never ever happened, period So who can ever tell, or know. So on a lonely bench in quiet shade He sits alone and unremarked, Wondering what games they play, Against the backdrop of the park.

And so, are we just the opposite, Are we all consigned to hidden files, Are machines deciding who we are, Where we live, and when we smile, Is nothing a certain and real fact, Unless computer correlated true, And should your dossier go into error, How can you prove, you are really you.

How do you verify yourself for a loan, If your ranking gets compromised, How do you overturn all their data, Making you a pariah in others eyes, You may hold letters of validity, They may grudgingly know its you, Unless their system grants absolution, There is nothing they can say or do.

So unless we are verifiable as sound, And our image assuages Superhal, No one will ever trust us again, No one will ever want to be our pal, But this is not like yesteryear, When a quick query cleared your name, Your questions are merely registered, And you just get told how to complain.

Complaints are collated and quantified, They are cross filed and referenced, You must never lose this number, And you must never take offence, You are continually adjourned, Or moved to yet another floor, In the hope that you will falter, From all that has gone before.

Meanwhile youre mugged, not statistically, Contract MRSA, but its not on file, Your children cannot read or write, But their qualifications raise a smile, You always hit potholes that dont exist, To save waiting on trains that dont arrive, But whose flexitimes prove you missed, The only one late out of fifty five.

You cry out to be heard aloud, But the echoes mock your voice, You cannot afford the telephone, Cant bypass enforced menus of choice, Cannot contact a single human being, By department, name or reason, All this evolved like a dripping tap, Season upon big brother season.

Then one day walking in solitude, Your will to try nearly quenched, There is the quiet of the shady park, There is the man upon the bench, Who looks at you knowingly, And asks you if you ever read, And says Then I am Kafka, You Must Tell Me What You Need.

So He went up to their doors, The Nameless Man with Faceless Face, And bearded them in their hallowed den, Their plush revered and holy place, And caused unmitigated consternation, As he either was not really there, Or indeed actually physically existed, Solidly sitting silent in his chair.

So they asked him what he would want, If he were real and not mere illusion, For his appearance was so inopportune, His face and features causing confusion, His DNA was an embarrassment, Never born, nor listed, nor created, Never taxed, treated, nor arrested, Never receiving a non education.

So he stood up to his full height, And drew up his deepest breath, That made him seem immortal, And made them all fear death, And his mighty voice resounded, So much the walls retained his words, We want to be individuals again We want to speak and to be heard, We want our voice to really matter, And we want to hear no more lies, We want illusion swept away, Replaced by council of the wise, We want common sense to prevail, And not statistical subterfuge, Which tries to tell us its all ok, When we know it must improve, We want you to abdicate and take, Your machines and Mandarins away, And we want it done immediately, Oh Yes, we want it done today.

Or else I will shine in prime time, And then all will see its me, The man who is not Kafka, The man who simply cannot be, Then where will your credibility go, Will they ever listen to your pleas. No, far better for you to go now, And leave reality to me.

And they went away in disarray, Whilst he heralded a new era, No one knew who the hell he was, But yet everything seemed clearer, Everything was as it appeared, Nothing hidden, no more of the lies, And no one filed his disappearance, When he finally left our skies.

They can media us its always fine, Statistic prove what cannot be true, They can try to justify their lies, Attempt to airbrush history in two, They may perceive us all as fools, Force fed on false soap opera goals, But cannot forever control our minds, Nor assume they own our souls, For Long term lies have multiplied, And now are ringing empty and hollow, What seemed so reasonable yesterday Will be disproved upon the morrow, And with these endless lies surfacing, Just Like The Man Who Could Not Be, The truth will slowly become visible, And the truth will set us free.

Ex systems programmer living in England

In The News:


Library of Congress Begins Posting Its Recorded Poetry Archive
New York Times (blog)
To celebrate National Poetry Month, the Library of Congress has posted online some 50 recordings from its Archive of Recorded Poetry and Literature, including readings and lectures by Robert Frost, Elizabeth Bishop, Gwendolyn Brooks, Czeslaw Milosz and ...


Over 100 poets highlighted during Poetry Fest
Mason City Globe Gazette
MASON CITY | More than 100 poets were highlighted with tri-fold displays and student presentations during the Mason City High School's Poetry Fest Sunday afternoon. "It's important because a lot of kids don't read poetry for fun," said sophomore Abbie ...


STLtoday.com (blog)

St. Louis Poetry Center celebrates Maya Angelou: star, icon, woman
STLtoday.com (blog)
“She” being poet Maya Angelou. “For at a time when there were such stifling constraints on how a black woman could exist in the world, she serenely disregarded all the rules with fiercely, passionate unapologetic self,” the first lady said at Angelou's ...

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Snake Nation hosts poetry workshop
Valdosta Daily Times
The Snake Nation Press workshop will be in two sessions, one in the morning, the other in the afternoon. The sessions will feature poets Tania Rochelle of Atlanta and Nagueyalti Warren, said Jean Arambula and Roberta George, both of Snake Nation Press.


Los Angeles Times

Festival of Books: Poetry, from sonnets to the 'language of the street'
Los Angeles Times
One poet was missing. Another wore a hat. Then there was the poet who wrote this: "We are dust and ash, and beauty is brief as a flower." "Sorry I'm late," Alejandro Murguía said, arriving finally at a Los Angeles Times Festival of Books panel on Saturday.
Complete COVERAGE: FESTIVAL OF BOOKSStandard Bulletin
Festival of Books: Authors and visitors collect early for the really like of booksStatesmen News

all 50 news articles »

Minneapolis Star Tribune (blog)

Garrison Keillor lays down 'Dear You' poetry challenge. Here are the winners.
TwinCities.com-Pioneer Press
Lisa Kundrat and Ethna McKiernan of Minneapolis and Kari Castor of Arlington Heights, Ill., are $1,000 winners of Common Good Books third annual poetry contest. Awards of $500 each went to Heidi Annexstad of Golden Valley, Elizabeth Twiddy of ...
Common Good Books (and GK) announces poetry winnersMinneapolis Star Tribune (blog)

all 3 news articles »

Hyperallergic

Clues If Not the Keys: New Poetry from Bill Berkson
Hyperallergic
For starters, this new collection opens up a new stage in Berkson's long poetic career, as it includes his most autobiographical poems, many in the form of acrostics celebrating the lives of his friends, his mother (on her one-hundredth birthday), his ...

and more »

Engadget

Hitchbot's poetry-writing sibling will also make its way across Canada
Engadget
While Hitchbot was bumming rides across Canada and Germany, its sibling kulturBot remained at home to keep their "parents" company. Now kulturBot is going on an adventure of its own, traveling with musicians, poets and other artistic types aboard the ...
Poetry-writing robot to make cross-Canada, train journeyMississauga

all 2 news articles »

Corvallis Gazette Times

Think Too Much: For the power in poetry, read it aloud
Corvallis Gazette Times
The last day of National Poetry Month, Thursday, April 30, is “Poem in Your Pocket Day.” It plays out just like it sounds: Take the time to remember and find your favorite poem. Print it out and put it in your pocket on that Thursday. Share it with ...

and more »

Yahoo News UK

Obama: World would be 'pretty barren' without poetry
Yahoo News UK
Obama and his wife, Michelle, celebrated National Poetry Month at the White House by inviting student poets to a workshop and reading by Elizabeth Alexander, the American poet who wrote and delivered a poem at Obama's frigid inauguration in January ...

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Google News

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