In the Penal Colony
A #BookReviewHaiku for the classic novel
What's your crime, Kafka?
From your cut and scar to us...
Now, it is our truth.
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About the Creator
Kendall Defoe
Teacher, reader, writer, dreamer... I am a college instructor who cannot stop letting his thoughts end up on the page.
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More stories from Kendall Defoe and writers in Poets and other communities.
Obsidian Is Alive
I live in a realm of darkness and curiosity, where the very ground conceals secrets and riddles, the answers to which are well beyond my reach. The cavern beneath Mount Etna is a maze of contorted rock and hidden riches, where daylight never shines, and the shadows of torches and the ghostly phosphorescence of cinnabar are the only illumination sources. I am fascinated by the cavern's beauty: the stalagmites, vast columns of rock that ascend from the ground like titans and are studded with gleaming adornments and stones, capturing sunlight and creating a treasure-trove of wealth and fascination. One stalagmite, however, stands out: a gigantic monolith of completely unreflective obsidian that glows blackly, swallowing light and color. I am drawn to it by a magnetic-like force; though Clement tells me it will boil to the touch, I am not frightened. Indeed, when I put my palm upon it, I am startled by the device's warmth; it is red-hot, pulsating with unseen living energy. Clement explains it is a conductor, a turning device that draws and converts all force it contacts.
By Owen Belen2 days ago in Poets
Comments (4)
I've only read one Kafka; I need to expand to more!
The simple crime of existence where it feels I don't belong yet cannot escape.
Thanks for sharing
I've been rereading it very recently. Haven't finished yet. I think I got somewhat tired of Kafka. The first time I was reading his pieces, they felt good and enjoyable. Now that I'm reading him, it feels like too much beating around the bush.