Poem: One Degree At A Time

A frog in tepid water can be boiled if the temp is brought up slowly, one degree at a time.

 

One Degree At A Time

By Dave Doc Rogers

 

I am born. It begins.

One degree at a time.

 

My truth, that bit I know

Is altered by others

One degree at a time.

 

I quickly learn that no

Means not my way but yours,

That yes is by your permission

Not mine.

 

I conform to your expectations.

Your ideals are not mine.

Everyone tells me

They ought to be though.

 

My heart fills near to bursting.

With wracking sobs I conform.

Another bit of me dies

One degree at a time.

 

I see the deception

That no one sees.

If they see it too

No words, no glance affirms.

 

Conform! Conform!

I know better than you!...

What is best for you...

You shout down my voice.

 

I die a little more.

One degree at a time.

 

My will becomes

Not my own.

I say it is but it is not.

 

Those who traded life for gold,

Compassion for power,

Illusion for delusion,

All clamor to direct me.

 

Like the toad in tepid waters

I sit as directed, cajoled.

The heat of others' desires applies

One degree at a time.

 

Like the toad in tepid waters

I do not note the changes

My will undone for theirs

One degree at a time.

 

Unlike the toad who boils

Unaware of the danger at hand

I step aside and observe

One degree at a time.

 

I make note and cajole,

I am discounted as I watch

They are deaf and blind to their plights

One degree at a time.

 

At its base, a red glow builds.

The tepid water now agitates.

Slowly resolve melts,

One degree at a time.

 

A feast is prepared,

The spoils of others' labor.

The deceptors reap from efforts performed

One degree at a time.

Author's Note

ignore grammar problems, what do you think of the dialogue

Reviews

[Dianne]

This is so true on so many levels. I've thought about this sort of thing for years. Take children, one of the first things do is to teach them they're not allowed to say no to Mommy and Daddy. Then we are stupid enough to wonder why they wont say no to drugs, to sex at a young age or drinking and driving. When were they ever allowed to say no? When did they get to practice that skill? Ok, just my own little rant there. Great poem

[hey]

i love this part :

Those who traded life for gold,
Compassion for power,
Illusion for delusion,
All clamor to direct me.

good, no, great write.
i love the passion and forward approach.

[Angel Baby]

:) very nice, enjoyed very much...Thanks! P.W.

[Ladysue]

What an insightful and brilliant write. One degree at a time...I absolutely love that line and it did add much to the poems meaning. An absorbing write and a pleasure to read!

[Lena M. P.]

I enjoyed the repetition because it added so much to the imagery. From birth to death we are molded into the person someone else requires. Only the rare lucky person is able to break that mold and stretch their wings to their own beat. You captured this beautifully. Good write.

Lena

[TL Boehm]

Like the toad in tepid waters

I sit as directed, cajoled.

The heat of others' desires applies

One degree at a time.

stellar poem - that inexorable heat applied - and we succumb quietly - well done. Well done. So good to be back and to read your poetry.

[OilsandSyntax]

I haven't reviewed in such a long time. I hope this comes off right. I like the concept of this...the idea of it. I can tell there's a lot of strong emotion involved...my only caution to you is to be weary of sounding a bit ranty.

[Nick Erickson]

"Those who traded life for gold,
Compassion for power,
Illusion for delusion,
All clamor to direct me."


"Unlike the toad who boils
Unaware of the danger at hand
I step aside and observe
One degree at a time."


How many of us are doing this right now, having done just what they wanted us to. Sit quietly and pretend to make a fuss. Another well written piece on - us.

Well done!!

[SM Davis]

This hits a strong chord with me. I work in a field full of PhDs and MDs and MSWs. Me, I have none of the above, but have worked in the field for so long that I trained the new CEO. I am his right hand man. A degree? PhD...Piled Higher and Deeper, MD Mentally Deficient, MSW...Mud swings wide.

There are definite benefits to education, but when education gets in the way of common sense and finding the simplist solution, it becomes a hinderance. Just my opinion, but I enjoyed the read.

[Damian Alan Gray]

I think that, with a little tweaking, this would make a great song. Perhaps not so reminiscent of '60's-style Dylan-esque folk music, but more along the lines of '90's-style grunge. It definitely has a Nirvana/Pearl Jam feel to it.

As for the dialogue, it flows like water for the most part. Further accenting that flow is the way you conjoined certain words throughout the poem. For instance, the last stanza is just great: "The deceptors reap from efforts performed" The simple fact that you took "deceptors" and conjoined the non-true rhyme of "efforts" to flow the beat of the piece to an end is a mark of true talent. Nicely done.