THE WISE MAN of SEMABOK, Part 1

THE WISE MAN OF SEMABOK

by azly rahman
Part 1
rhymes for modern times,
written in seven days
in seven different locations...
in about seven thousand words
A TALE FOR TEENS
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There was a boy,
Johan as he was called,
Who lived in the toughest time of all,
In which there was too much to learn,
in not so much time at all.

It was the time of fast computers,
And supernovas and quasars and environmental
litters,
And of course in school, a lot to be learned,
Poor Johan, to have the mind of a genius,
was all he has always yearned.

In school there were Physics and Chemistry,
And History and Biology,
Not to mention all the languages
and all the readings and the homework
given by his teachers.
Oh, how Johan and all those very ambitious
Yearn to find the one best method which
will make them geniuses.

It was his eleventh year of schooling,
A boy like him doesn’t have much time
for doodlings,
For it was the year of high hopes,
Another year then - there would be a major exam
for Johan to cope.

Thus the journey began for his intensive studying,
Of constant memorizing and reading and calculating,
For Johan wants to do the best in every test,
So as to prove to himself, his parents and the rest,
That he indeed can be the brightest and the best.

Months passed by and the poor boy began
to feel the pinch,
As if he’s crawling every inch,
To get the facts he learned imprinted deep within,
So that he could perform the best - day out, day in.
When the going gets tough, as they say,
The tough gets going, come what may.
But life, like Johan, like that of the rest of us,
Is filled with ups and downs - a roller coaster such as,
And poor Johan, like a lark he rises early morning,
And like a nightingale he retires beyond
midnight calling,
Reading and writing, thinking and calculating.

“AAAARRRRRRRGH!” he one day screamed,
When the pressures of schoolwork sank into him.
“Can’t studying be easier than this?” Johan kept
on asking,
“Isn’t there a secret formula for learning and memorizing?”

And that day Johan buried his face in a mountain
of books,
Like a poor little kitten drowning in a brook,
And he yelled and screamed at the thought of failing,
Until late at night he kept on wailing.

That night Johan slept amongst his books,
Indeed that night he dreamed he was standing
by a brook,
And he was staring at the rushing waters,
“Will I leave this question unanswered?” he wondered.

And Johan kept on wondering and wondering,
When the answer will be arriving.
Not to mention why he was there standing,
Looking at the water fast running.

It was almost dawn,
This boy Johan began to yawn.
He could see no one around,
Nor could he hear any sound.

Moments passed by,
The sun had long bade goodbye
Suddenly, yonder across, Johan could hear laughter
which broke like thunder,
“Certainly mysterious,” Johan wondered,
And thus he began to have the shivers.

The laughter then abruptly stopped,
The night fell as silent as a rock,
Then yonder another laughter broke again
like thunder,
And Johan’s shivers was harder than the one earlier.

Then again, like a game, the laughter stopped,
Poor Johan was shivering non-stop,
“Who could it be?” his heart yelled,
“And where am I? I really can’t tell.”

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SO-- WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT?