Tag: Poetry

The Inspiration for My Myth of Subang

In Dragon Ball Super Goku becomes what they call a “God”. I stopped relating to him. Because he became callous, and only wanted to fight. He stopped being the sort of hero I looked up to, and became something more than what he ought to have.

So, I knew Dragon Ball was inspired by the Myth of the Monkey King. So, I did my own myth, where Goku was Subang—the same name. And Goku becomes “Thor.” That is, an embodiment of men going too far.

Because I think the metaphor needed drawn out. I think Akira went too far with his portrayal of Goku. And, to be honest, he stopped being a good guy. He started being kind of like a Loki type figure. Just the way he gambled the whole entire universe on his lust for battle was disturbing to me. He no longer was a protector, but became, sort of, the embodiment of everything I’m despising at the current rate.

Goku in GT, although not as celebrated, I could relate to. The formula was there. Goku was fighting villains, and it followed the kind of formula I would expect for the DB franchise. Goku becomes some what of a folk legend, rather than saying he’s a deity. But, Goku in Super becomes a deity, and I can only say that after becoming such, he’s significantly changed in personality. He’s become more reckless, more haphazard, and he’s become a shell of his old character. GT preserved his character, and made him serious. Super has changed Goku’s character into something I can’t relate to. In fact, I relate to Vegeta more, now, because it seems he’s the more likely of the two to be a good guy. And he is the good guy, now. I mean, Vegeta has some kind of reverence toward life, which Goku has now abandoned. Which is interesting, I think.

Though, I don’t like the Super Saiyan God form because it’s not only blasphemous, it’s stupid. Because DB was absent of a religious context. There was no doubt that DB’s atheism was one of the things that made the franchise worth watching. Because it neither posited itself beyond the scope of itself, nor did it irritate the religious views of its audiences. It was something politically and religiously neutral. And then they go one step beyond, into the realm of godhood with the characters, which now I feel disquieted watching it. It’s no longer a story about a man defending helpless people, but is now a quasi religion.

So, I took the series of Dragon Ball and made this story. And the reason why I did was because I do know that Akira had drawn influence from the myth of the Monkey King. I’ve never read that myth, but simply watched a notable martial arts movie, and Dragon Ball, and of course Jacky Chan Adventures to really get this myth off the ground.

And of course Akira means “Light”, so Aarin, the Nethanim that is defeated by Subang, is Akira’s Nethanim, to guard him against this path he went with his story. Which, Subang is meant in this myth simply to tell Akira not to take Goku to this level. Though he did, I just want Goku to maybe be something other than an object of worship because I think it corrupted the Character of Goku, and the series in a lot of ways. The series was not religious, and all of its lore was in the realm of fantasy. Now it went into the realm of religion, and if going there, I think it’s best that we take a step back and understand how dangerous that is. Of course, he wouldn’t be the first to do so. But, now it’s coming into mainstream culture, and I don’t think this is a good thing.

Because God does exist, and I would hope that the myth I created could warn people about the ascent into “godhood.” That, the overbearing metaphor in this story is how the pursuit of powers beyond your scope can corrupt you, and it has corrupted one of our most beloved characters by making him less than what he was. And I think this is the danger of this pursuit. And of course Nethanim are guardians of the mind. They aren’t real, unless you count the person who invents them. The author is the Nethanim. The person on the page is simply his metaphor to defeat the evil. And in this case, the evil is Goku… and I never thought that would be the case.

Crap that Got Deleted

As a writer…

We all know this feeling,

You have a great story.

Just awesome.

Wrote five pages, it’s working good.

And you forgot to hit Control S.

 

Or, you wrote the greatest poem

You’d ever written

Etc…

And suddenly the program crashes.

There it is, you can’t go into the backups

Because they crashed too.

 

Then, there’s crap you wrote

That you just didn’t like.

Just crap. Crap. Crap. Crap.

 

Then there’s cult stuff.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

Nobody wants to write a new book of Mormon.

 

Then, of course, there’s just crap.

Crap you wrote, just wasn’t feeling it

And it needs to go too.

 

Then, there’s crap you wrote

That you just don’t agree with.

It’s neither wise, nor certain why you wrote it.

 

Then there’s crap you wrote

Because you were having a little bit of illness that day.

Call it that. Let’s not go further.

Crap, crap, crap.

 

Then, there’s whole entire books

Worth of crap. They need deleted to.

 

Then there’s the crap that you don’t want to delete

Because it has some sentimental value.

Those you keep.

 

Then there’s the crap that other people don’t like

And you like it, but you get so frustrated

That nobody likes it, so it gets deleted too.

 

Then there’s that masterpiece

That in a moment of absolute absurd stupidity

You delete. And then years later

You wonder why you deleted it,

And you still can’t think of a good reason.

 

Then there’s the thousands of words

You deleted in editing,

Often making it worse

Rather than better

But everyone is convinced

Because their hand is now in your pot

That it is better.

Sooner or later,

That authentic vibe your writing has

Is gone, and someone else is there

Nagging at you.

And, so, it gets deleted.

 

Then, there are hundreds,

And hundreds, and hundreds

Of words that you delete

Because you just know they ain’t gonna sell.

 

Then there’s that feeling that you have your pearl

But you’d rather throw it back into the ocean

So the people at the markets don’t undersell you.

Those… you ought not to delete.

Plagiarism Defined

My stories are mine.

They are no one else’s.

Brittos fights Medea;

And he fights Thor.

He fights the Grea.

These battles are not mine.

 

For a hundred battles

I hope Brittos has with Medea

Thor and the Grea.

In Haiku,

Iambic Pentameter,

Tetrameter,

Trisyllables,

Hexameter,

Free Verse

Blank Verse,

Trochees

Spondees

Villanelles,

Canzones,

 

What distinguishes my work

When the story is borrowed from someone else?

Wordings, feet

Themes, morals,

Ideas, notions, metaphors

Similes, idiosyncrasies,

Nuanced meanings,

Diction,

An Ethos,

Schemas,

Scholarship and Research,

My own life story.

 

For truth,

What distinguishes my writing

Is my spin on the story.

 

The Fifth Angel’s Trumpet

What makes it mine?

Capitol City

Freelander Civilization

Marc and Erin

The histories,

The civilizations,

The words,

The speech,

The colloquial

The themes,

The elements.

 

Plagiarism is when you take

Some of this

And then add your own.

When you take Freelander Civilization

And make it so I can’t eat.

When you take Brittos

And make his story inferior

Just so you can make a dime.

 

My story of Brittos is mine.

Brittos is not mine.

Medea is not mine.

Nuclear War, Underground Cities

Zombie Apocalypses

Utilitarianism, World Wars

Russian and Chinese conflicts

These are not mine.

These are simply archetypes.

These are stories latent in the cloud

Of Platonic Forms;

Why Plato despised them,

Yet they are his best proof.

 

But, at the end of the day

Plagiarism is when you make it so

An author cannot eat

Because you took what was his

And made it better.

When you took what was his

And made it more appealing.

When you took what was his

And made it your own.

Plagiarism is when you will

Throw an author in the prison of poverty

Without giving him the credit he deserves

Because someone else had better timing.

 

Medea sounds like “Media”.

Therefore, a metaphor about it is not mine.

But, what is mine are my words;

And to take from them, or add to them

Would be like putting The Book of Enoch

Into the Bible. It is without a doubt

Abhorrent because it is not God’s story,

The book of Enoch.

We have a council at Nicaea

To determine what goes into our God’s story

And believe these divinely inspired prophets

Sat and determined what was to be in there.

What is not in there, it doesn’t belong.

As much as you don’t take a story

And call it God’s Holy Divine writ

You don’t take what is another Author’s

And claim it is yours.

 

It does not mean you can’t write a psalm.

It does not mean you can’t write a tall tale.

It does not mean you cannot write 100 tall tales.

Because John Henry can only be done so many ways;

Paul Bunyan can be made a metaphor

For the Preacher’s Man famous for cutting down trees;—

This is something people can come to on their own.

But when you see my work

And meddle with it,

And make it your own—

I don’t mean borrow from some of its ideas;

Heaven knows that’s the craft of writing:

The Fifth Angel’s Trumpet borrowed from Starship Troopers

It borrowed from my High School Econ and Government class

It borrowed from my history class

It borrowed from conspiracy theories

It borrowed from science class

It borrowed from child’s play

It borrowed from a lot of elements—

But it is none of these things.

My child’s play did not develop a civilization.

My science class did not invent a skiff.

My history class did not have three additional World Wars.

My Economy and Government class Did not lay down the foundation of Freelander Civilization;

Alex Jones did not invent conspiracy theories,

Starship Troopers was not a movie chronicling a civilization.

 

With Brittos,

It was all elements latent in the air.

Television, lusts for the good life, nightmares

Monarchies, Britto founding England,

Greas personifying the sea,

Idolatry, the Hortus Conclusus

Desiring love,

Overcoming the world’s desire

For a humble existence…

Not much is beyond the scope of what is common archetype

Or the prevailing truths seen…

They guide the hand of this author

Therefore it is the words, the style

The meters, the rhymes.

The feet, the Iambs, the trochees,

The Third Rhymes, the punching sixth lines

The actual wordings. Those are mine.

I cannot claim ownership of the story

Though it is slightly original.

Brittos fights the Sea,

But being the founder of Great Brittain

What else would Brittos fight?

The Grea has no description in Bulfinch’s Mythology

Just a slight notion that it is a personification of the Sea:

What do I do? The founder of Britain must fight the sea.

And fight he does, but the sea is within…

And the Mighty Men of David

Slay 100 men with spear.

What is external in the Old Covenant

Is internal in the New.

The external life in the Old Covenant

Is the internal life in the new.

I cannot claim ownership over that.

It is there, and if I did I’d be a tyrant.

I cannot claim the Nethanim are mine

Because the Nethanim are bards

Who tell tales of mighty victories.

In the story they are warriors

In real life they are the bard.

I cannot claim ownership over that

Because it is there to be discovered

In the prevailing truth.

I sat in church, and saw a conference

On the Mighty Men;

I saw it for a few days

I left, and I had to make sense of it.

I did: It’s called Metafiction

And I cannot copyright that.

But, nobody should let me starve

By saying they wrote it first

Or better; I need to eat

And these stories I came to on my own

Because they are there to be discovered.

 

I suppose one cannot copyright an archetype.

They can only copyright their story.

And that is what a plagiarist does.

He copyrights another’s story.

Therefore, let this byzantine definition stand:

 

You cannot copyright a story of another person.

But you cannot copyright an archetype that belongs to everyone.

And with my recent poetry, it is all archetype.

Therefore, I own my words, and those are what I own.

 

You cannot copyright the truth and claim it only belongs to you.

Jesus Christ is Come in the Flesh

There are three proofs for God

Christians, which you will use in the world

To prove your God.

No more science or worldly explanations

Lest you destroy yourselves.

This is a prophecy

One of very few I have written:

 

The first is Miracles.

Christians, they exist.

A car flips, five people ride it

And all survive.

With my very arm

I move the car,

And it falls.

Healing exists in a spiritual prayer.

So does blessing encourage,

And encouragement brings people to do what is right.

So does a curse alight to turn a man away from sin.

 

The second proof is that people can communicate.

It is undeniable.

People understand one another

If they are listening to one another.

With an ear, they can understand

One another to the most minutia.

They can precisely coordinate

They can build precision

They can communicate ideas.

If this were not so,

Then we could never prove truth.

But, we can prove truth

Because we can reason with one another.

 

The third proof of God is that there is good and evil.

There is a behavior you would prefer

All people treat you.

There is a behavior you should have

Toward all others.

You should not kill

You should not steal

You should not have sex before marriage.

It is known to every child that this is the case

And each one groans when they see any diversion from these truths.

For, they understand what is right

Until their hearts are intent on evil.

And evil drives them to insanity

It drives them to destructive habits

It drives them to isolation and regret

And shame and constant heartache.

This is observable.

So with goodness, does it clear the conscience.

And the fact that we have a conscience

And it needs cleared,

And only one God offers to clear it;

All others say to pay the full penalty of sin;

That is the ultimate proof of Christ.

That there is good.

That there is evil.

The contrary is easily mooted

Because we observe both.

The Davadic Archetype

I happened upon Peter Pan while trying to convince a group of youths that it has an objective meaning. And while reading Peter Pan's sequels, I came across something very strange. There was mention of a "David", who was, as the author put it, a Moralist. And of course David and he were always making stories, and perpetually having this exchange of ideas... What was funny was that it could have come out of one of my stories. I've come independently to the "David" theme in my writing, and it's interesting to me that someone else has, too.

So... why do two completely different authors, two authors from different centuries, even, come to the same, prevailing idea? That there is this person named "David" who has a share in our work. And of course, this Author resisted David--- they were his stories, not David's. Who is David? Why do two people come to this very same archetype, latent deep in the subconscious mind?

I had deleted two essays, and I mean to put them both here. There was another phenomena that was quite similar. After reading Seamus Heaney's version of Beowulf, I had written my own version of Beowulf. And, I did what the 9th century author did, I infused Pagan Mythology with Christian Mythology, and then read four cantos of Paradise Lost, and saw, almost eerily, we both we writing the same tradition. His were shape shifting Demons, mine were shape shifting elves using alien technology---both were demonic entities, which, in both, must actually be fought.

So, this is two times the state of fact came, that I was independently coming upon things that other authors have touched upon at different times, in different ways... David being one of them, and of course Paradise Lost's mythology, which lined up perfectly with mine.

So, I believe this is proof of communication. Which, proves that ideas---I'm not sure why this had to be proved, but apparently it does need proved---actually occur beyond that of the most visceral levels. The fact that I could write something like Hail Britannica, come upon this Davidic Archetype, create Elves---and this is all after reading works of literature like Bulfinch's Mythology, Wordsworth, Beowulf, Edith Hamilton's Mythology, Plato, Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, a lot of the Bible, literature like Jane Austen or Leo Tolstoy, etc. etc. etc. I came upon independently two ideas independently reached by other authors.

So... there's other things going on here, too, but the real issue is that when I confronted a bunch of young women on Peter Pan's meaning---expressly stated at the first few lines of the novel even---they became disgruntled. They denied that there could be a meaning, and they believed that it was all theory. Right... but how am I communicating ideas I've never entertained independently of having entertained the ideas in their purest form? Simply put, how am I writing about the same things as authors I've never actually read? And that's a question, that no matter what it proves communication. Even the most absurd theory would have to admit there is some kind of communication happening, on a level deeper than the rudimentary one we often associate communication with.

And, foremost, why David? It's interesting that David even comes up in Barrie's writing, and in my own fixed beliefs I had believed there was someone named "David" writing my work. And I realized, at the most rudimentary level, there was. David, in Christian Theology---because you can't use Mythology here---is the Messiah Conqueror. He is the coming Christ. He is the Shepherd. And in Ecclesiastes, it has something here to even say: "The words of the wise are as goads, and as nails fastened by the masters of assemblies, which are given from one shepherd."

So, what it proves is wisdom... universal ideas latent in the human psyche even. Jung would call them Archetypes, I'd call it wisdom. Universal ideas prevalent in writing, and David---when you've gotten to be a storyteller---might just be the Gatekeeper of the stories. You write for Christ. And of course, the author here might be resisting that call, which he says "David is a Moralist". He gives a story, which involves a creative memory---and here I begin to outline, that the story written by Barrie here, the Peter Pan sequel, is not canonical to the actual myth of Peter Pan. It's rather, schizophrenic in its delivery, and maybe the reason why is because it didn't get approved by the gatekeeper, David. Maybe when someone builds a life in stories, they begin to see---if it's truly wisdom---a pattern that must be followed, otherwise the story fails and otherwise looks ridiculous. And often I've found this many times.

And we come to the Romantic Poets, often calling themselves prophets, who wrote in styles we'd assume were period. But, I'm writing in this style without having learned it. I don't know how I'm doing it... I really don't actually. I had thought maybe I was plagiarizing, but I had never read anything like Paradise Lost to plagiarize. I did have a dream, once, of Hail Britannica, and it frightened me because I didn't understand what the dream meant. And I had dealt with obscure dreams---which lent to some of my stories---and it's often a wonder to me how this can be the case. Because I don't really recall any kind of reason to have these dreams---there is one obscure memory, and a prayer only to Jesus attached to it---but other than that, there is no reason for me to doubt the dreams' authenticity. So... it's scary to me how this works. But, somehow my stories are communicated to me. And I believe they are given by One Shepherd. If they are truly wise. And that gatekeeper is David, whom we should give the glory to, as in Christ Jesus, Messiah who comes to Conquer. And there is a latent angst in me... it's strange. I don't believe the stories are mine... I believe they are David's. I believe Barrie's stories are also David's, because they are wise. And I think when we rebel against David---or Christ---we tend to lose the authentic ownership of our craft. We begin to question them--- which is often what writers do at some point. I remember Ray Bradbury in an interview saying that he questioned his own words and wordings---maybe because he, in a sense, was trying to wrestle with the ownership of them. Bradbury became a Christian---or rather, always was despite some protest---and I think the ownership of these stories belongs to Christ, like all other things. If we are to be successful, we have to offer the story to Christ, or really anything for that matter.

And the fact that people are coming to these notions independently of me, suggests something rather odd and haunting. That is there are prevailing ideas outside of us, and forces outside of our own comprehension.

Barrie, J. M.. Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens. Project Guttenberg. https://www.gutenberg.org/files/26998/26998-h/26998-h.htm. 2/13/22. Web.

The Man in Black

There was a man in black

Who sung of Gabriel’s Trumpet;—

A prophet he was, who sung sad odes

Of those about to die.

 

Some elves peeped through the walls

Spying the songs he’d sing.

He sung his sad odes

But the elves, having power over time

Went back and sung them

First.

 

Then Albion’s Queen saw this thing;—

 

When times are tricked,

She investigates the matter.

 

She found the man innocent,

And therefore, let him sing his sad odes.

For, none could understand his odes

When the elves sung them.

They needed the man in black

To understand.

Idea Theft: It’s Called Art

A thought crossed my mind today about Plagiarism.

Suppose a Russian author stole my best book.

Then, he gave it to Reddit.Com to eviscerate.

Then the trolls eviscerated it,

Making it incomprehensibly different

To my masterwork.

Would he have really stolen my idea

If it’s totally different?

Sure, there might be zombies

Underground tunnels and people living inside of Subway stations

But, truthfully, nothing is the same.

Is it truly plagiarism

Or is it high art?

 

Michelangelo sculpted sculptures

Of the Greek molds and casts

Making reproductions at first

Which were in similitude with their

Original art.

With a novel, you cannot do this.

Rather, elements or ideas get borrowed from one author

To another, and then get shared

Passing down ideas from one person to the next.

It’s a lot like sculpting.

Yet, I have a hunch someone scalped my one manuscript

And wrote a few famous novels.

I’ve looked at them,

Seeing them all over the place.

They are not my stories.

Just some of my ideas

Which I ought not own.

Surely, I write myths about Robin Hood

And Beowulf, stories which are shared.

I write stories about Iranian myths

I’ve never seen my words in print.

It’s always someone else’s story

Which borrowed my ideas

To make theirs.

How they get it?

Who knows… but it’s not my story.

 

Where we confront problems

Is when I cannot publish my story

Because of them.

When I cannot have my words in print

And be read, because they plagiarized me.

All I care about are my words,

And my stories.

I copy Robin Hood and Medea

I copy some elements of Vampires and Werewolfs.

And I make my own stories with them.

It’s called High Art…

 

My story is not in Russia,

It is not in their Subway Stations,

It has really nothing to do with a famous author

I was enlightened to today.

My story is not in a Maze,

My story is not about men shrinking

To have lots of money…

Though each of these

Have borrowed something of mine…

Should it be copyrighted?

Maybe they came about independently

Because maybe archetypes exist.

Maybe notions produce art.

Or, maybe someone copied my manuscripts

And went to Reddit.com

And changed them.

Regardless, it’s not my story.

I’m flattered someone would make their own

So long as it’s not Capitol City

Or my Freelander Civilization;

So long as the themes are not American

And the love story is about Marc and Erin.

 

Surely, I don’t care about a wood carved bear

Because my story has nothing to do with a maze,

Though it is a metaphor about hell.

I did think about shrinking men who wanted to enrich themselves

With shrinking, namely, that’s why they have Galaxy Rings

In Fairyland.

But, it’s not my story.

 

Stories need shared,

And that’s why I love Japan

With tons of Gundam Animes

All by different producers.

Just, the guy who made Gundams should make some money

On it too. That’s all I’m saying;

People ought to read a work if it’s quality.

 

But, they don’t. And a Copyright system

Isn’t going to fix that.

Really, human corruption has been around for a long time

And intellectual property is airy.

An invention of a log splitter,

If the man who was the genius behind it

Didn’t get paid,

But some other thief did

I call that corruption.

If both men got paid,

But one made a Ford

And the other a Chevy,

And the other a Honda

And the other a KIA

I call that capitalism.

So long as men can eat from their labors

Which they do under the sun.

 

Just don’t steal my Ethos

And we’ll be fine.

Don’t steal my Pathos

And we’ll be fine.

Don’t steal my Logos

And we’ll be fine.

Let Kairos be damned

It’s Because of him

I’m poor.