Serene Abduction

Friday, February 9th, 2007 –
The day when you kidnapped me from the world
And I was to be your captive for the weekend.

You took me across 22 miles of ocean
And settled me in a place called Avalon
To bond with 40 of my peers from class.

Never in my life would I picture myself
Temporarily residing with you and your sisters
Who dotted the vastness of the Pacific.

During my time there, you showed me peace
And brought forth within me a hidden sense of strength
That, while repressed within me, still keeps me going.

You also showed me of beauty and love,
The concept of having confidant(e)s,
The sweet luxury of being at ease with the world.

Alas, your tutelage was finite
And as soon as I felt your soothing embrace,
I was tossed back towards the chaotic mainland.

As I looked back on the boat ride home,
Your exotic-sounding name spurred within me
A deep longing for serenity that I may never have again.

So whenever I find myself on the waterfront,
I take the time to look your way and say,
"Catalina, I will forever thank you."

Figma

As I look, they stand there
a piece of my life staring back at me
they say nothing, think nothing
yet every time my eyes wander to them
they instantly dance to life

So full of joy and so full of emotion
their livid plastic pulsates vivid color
as they smile at each other
wave to me from their anchored position
offer me entertainment in the lulls

At times they're like fashion models
strutting flair and appeal to the masses
but I think of that as incorrect
They're more like girls that're best friends
same and different, plastic and real

As they stand there
they gaze at me
watch as I work
guide me to entertainment
when I tire of tedious jobs

They sit atop my desk
living it up like none other
because that's what Figma figures do
decorate, educate, dance, smile
and I can't help but do the same

Game of Haikus (You 5-7-5 or Die)

An entry like this
is small due to addiction
dammit, Game of Thrones!

Drabbling Poetry

And through the closing hours, our hero holds true
steadfast in his desire to stay alive
but in this course corruption lingers and claims
and twists the man into something but
though no longer pure, his heart beats as if
it were real and alive like the person
of his dreams he sees to be.

And through it all the world must ask
why he has yet to give up
for to do so would commit nothing -
naught guilt, not shame, but an easy life
one where suffering seems nil and void
but the hero chooses to take the bullet
and prove himself worthy of a title once owned.

"C" Row Hero

Someone tell me that today is today, for today's not a day that will just go away
For crimes of a certain fashion seem to be the world's passion
The call is made to the skies, seeking aid from passersby
But I won't be the hero - I'm just there seated in "C" row.

This theater of hope and wonder, besieged by the sons of plunder
is the world, is our whole; such life becomes our soul.
But I just bide my time and speak to you in rhyme
For I'm no man - I'm a zero, just waiting to become the hero.

Two Days Poem

So cold is the night, and so is the morning
my feet are numb, my hands swollen
Freezing chills and sub-climate woes
are what's to come for my life and soul

Please, oh, please, get me out of this
it's my fault I'm here, I acknowledge
that a time like this only arrives
when one is ill-prepared for such ire

As Eternal Darkness Rose

This morose shroud of the night
Was scattered throughout the air.
Around, the lights shone brightly,
But for him he did not care.

He simply trods down the road,
Indiff’rent his path would be.
Expressionless his face was,
Walking uncontrollably.

A fruitless search he began,
Yet surrender? No, he’d fight.
He resumed his noble quest:
The search for the hope and light.

Throughout that time the city
Broadcast glamour and appeal,
But these illuminations
Were without a doubt unreal.

Wait, hold on! It’s just midnight –
Far too early in the morn’!
The darkness still envelops;
The dawn has yet to be born.

Hours and hours later
And sunrise he’s yet to meet.
Darkness would claim victory
And with waiting came defeat.

But soft! what is a-stirring
From the horizon afar?
He’d remember this moment
When the light shone without bar.

The melancholy he faced,
This sickening depression –
It would all be washed away
And end his oppression.

But good things come to an end
As daylight’s hours went past.
The forecast made was crystal:
Skies of darkness overcast.

His waits would be forever
And with joyous thoughts he knows:
Hell spawned these glam’rous façades
As eternal darkness rose.

Writing Alchemy

Alas: poetry - something by yours truly! Enjoy my sweet words - at least until the 'morrow!

Non Sequitur 9: OONTZ

What a happy balloon!

Time to put a smile on your face! At least, I think that's a smile on your face...

Delays in Haiku

Procrastination:
a trial best defined as...
...I'll tell you later.

Avenging Gales

Winds of confusion -
the weather of December
is quite so strange, yes?

Hai-Two

The honor and pride
of a fallen warrior
must be set aside

When life takes a dive
please keep the fire alive -
otherwise: no hope

Another Entry, Another Poem

If someone wanted to tell me I was a coward
would I believe them?
That such a lie of truth be allowed
to float throughout my mind
to brandish doubt so openly, so confidently
and test my spirit within?

I can say that I don't believe them at all
that strength and courage exist in me
and while I don't display it like other brash fools
I hold it within, use it when necessary
infuse myself with the power to destroy and create worlds
when necessary, when desired, when I'm ready

But sometimes Fate decides to alter the plans;
we're tested and heavily tried
when we're not at our peaks, but at our lowest points
it's the actions we perform that decide
our chances of survival, our chances for success
and the worlds we form from the ashes

A Halloween Outfoxed

It's almost Halloween!? Mein Gott!





CURRENT MUSIC:
Shouji Meguro - "Battle for Everyone's Souls"
Persona 3 Original Soundtrack

One of the final battle pieces heard in-game, "Battle for Everyone's Souls" musically introduces to us the tension and fear brought on by what could be one of the most arduous boss fights ever. Your party deals with a boss called the Avatar of Nyx, who proves to be one combatant that truly tests the player. There are fourteen phases to the fight (yes, I said "fourteen" - far more than even the most complicated World of Warcraft bosses) - each corresponding to the first fourteen Major Arcana found in traditional tarot card decks. What's worse is that while each phase is tough-as-nails to begin with (it's a final boss; what else would you expect?), its final phase is where the Avatar of Nyx decides it's time to stop toying with you and actually lay down the law (yes, you were being toyed with the first thirteen phases).

This piece particularly grabbed my attention when I first heard it years ago because it assimilated three types of typical boss fight music in a method I had never heard of (at the time):

• a rock base consisting of the drums and a rhythm guitar acting as bass
• a classical section with a piano lead and some strings support, and
• a mezzosoprano (I think) belting out a somewhat-chilling melody.

This combination makes an already-interesting fight even more interesting than it already was. It engaged you in what you knew to be something that would test your skills, your strength, and - more importantly - your endurance. Persona 3 players run an average of one hour when it comes to the time spent slaying the Avatar of Nyx. *nods sagely*

You want something that will aurally demand that you put your all in? Something that will drive you to kick ass, take names, feed the cat, and finish your term paper all within a limited time span? Something that just screams "final battle tension" and "ultimate pressure?" Play this track. It oughta do the job well.



"I suppose every child has a world of his own – and every man, too, for the matter of that. I wonder if that's the cause for all the misunderstanding there is in life?"
- Lewis Carroll

That could very well be the case. Everyone's personal world is different. Events that play out identically may hold different reactionary outcomes for different people. The codes of conduct two people may have can be the same in written form but hold different interpretations. Tried-and-true concepts may not have a firm grim on someone as opposed to another.

So if this is the case, then why don't we realize that? Why do we assume everyone will adhere to the same rules, the same metaphysical laws, the same styles of self-governing? Why do we assume that someone we've just met will cast their ideals into the wind and readily accept ours?

I don't know the answer to that. I don't think anyone will for a good time being.

Cryptic Heptameter

Chaos beckons for my life
and tells me: "Capitulate."
I said, "No, my life's my own!" -
now tell me: who can relate?

The Call

So on a random whim, I typed up something to alleviate me from some mythical "artist's block" I think I may have. (It's probably all in me head, anyway.) I felt that we are presented with various situations each day that we have to get through, but not many of us actually rise to the occasion. Hence, this poem I spontaneously whipped up.

Forgive me for rhyming - I'm not particularly fond of that style of poetry, but it seemed to work at the time. (If anything, those of you who can't stand "actual" poetry that doesn't rhyme can finally read something with ease. *shakes head*)

Enjoy it.

The Lost Serenade of the Valley

As a good portion of today's entry is inspired in part by The Legend of Zelda franchise, I figured the entry title should pay tribute to that.

Since the pre-blog things hit up all three of the major words in the title ("lost," "serenade" and "valley" in case you were wondering), I figured I could combine them into something that would probably be more of a memorable title.

Come on... you gotta admit that today's entry title sounds cool. =D





CURRENT MUSIC:
Diggi Dis - "Mamacitas in My Valley"
[OCRemix of Koji Kondo's "Gerudo Valley" from The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time]

For those of you who aren't much of video game music enthusiasts like I am, not only are you missing out on amazing tunes that would probably rival Hollywood scores and playlists made for joggers, but you also probably have never heard of OverClocked Remix, a website dedicated to sharing musical remixes of video game music. It's been around for ages, and I go there on occasion to find a twist of flavor when a particular piece sounds stale.

Now, while I was randomly YouTube-surfing, I ended up landing on the preview vid for this particular remix. I honestly could only think of two words when I was listening to this piece: "HOLY FUCK." "Yeah, interesting choice of words," you're probably thinking. (And yes: I hear your sarcasm.) Seriously, though, after listening to it, you might end up in agreement - if it left me speechless, it should do the same to you.

Take the original "Gerudo Valley," mix it with Latin and hip-hop/dance overtones into a cocktail shaker, and the end result: THIS PIECE. And the best part is that it's got that flair you want for a summer dance party, and - oh, hey, look! SUMMERTIME!

Kinda inspires me to just dance with this. It'd be better if I knew how to dance, or if I had someone to dance with... but that's a story for another day. Just listen to the piece and enjoy the aural pleasure with me! (Here's the best part: you don't even need to be a Legend of Zelda fan to enjoy this! Click the above link if you doubt me!)


Koji Kondo - "Lost Woods"
The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time Original Soundtrack

Everyone has a few songs or pieces of music that they just can't get tired of. Either they're inspired by it every time they hear it or it brings them an emotion they can never get tired of. For me, one of my personal tracks would be the famed anthem from Ocarina of Time's "Lost Woods" - which is probably one of the best musical pieces from the game (apart from "Gerudo Valley"). Even if I was in the worst mood possible, if I were to hear this start chiming, I'd begin to feel more and more lighthearted until I was either in a much better mood or the music stops. All the field tests I've conducted with this song have been accurate thus far, which proves how hedonistic this piece is. Love it.

The irony here is that the carefree and innocent sound the ocarina "Lost Woods" plays contrasts with the fury and frustration every gamer playing Ocarina of Time for the first time gets when they first venture into the song's namesake. (There's a trick: listen carefully to the music when you're standing at each of the tunnel openings - if the music sounds faded or dimmed, that's not the right path.)

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to finish the music section by having Link just stand in the Sacred Forest Meadow for about six hours while "Lost Woods" blares continuously. That's how much I love the song. *falls asleep and leaves the laptop on as it plays "Lost Woods" in an edited loop*



"Time passes, people move. Like a river's flow, it never ends. A childish mind will turn to noble ambition. Young love will become deep affection. The clear water's surface reflects growth. Now listen to the 'Serenade of Water' to reflect upon yourself..."
- Sheik
(The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time)

Thirteen years ago when I first played this game, I always thought Sheik was mouthing off random gibberish that made the game feel more epic. Now, as I replay Ocarina of Time on my 3DS, I have come to realize how much more amazing the words and gameplay actually was.*

As to Shiek's words, they are said when first learning the "Serenade of Water." In a way, we've all grown somehow (speaking from a psycho-spiritual aspect, at least). As I spent the majority of the time I spent writing this entry thinking back upon what I've done, I'd like to think that I've grown so far in my journey through life. I'll be damned if I'm wrong.

* = Someone remind me to talk about this. There's one thing in particular that I never noticed when I was first playing this eons ago that kinda spoke to me.





Morning, readers! Welcome to my first entry that I've posted before sunrise! Weird for me, but it saves me the trouble of typing up something crappy before work, so... enjoy it!





So immediately after posting yesterday's "entry," I ended up thinking of what I could do afterwards to alleviate three things:

• the urge to follow through with my declaration for "other things I want to talk about"
  
• the "monotony" my mellow day gave me, and
• a swift and sudden migraine that makes the invasion of Poland look like a picnic.

After about two seconds of deliberation, I decided upon taking a shot at the first two things (the third I figured I could somewhat live with). So, I ended up experimenting some more with the "drunk author" theory. I grabbed a couple of Shock Tops, stuck them in the refrigerator, watched Burn Notice and How I Met Your Mother (one episode each) and retrieved my now-cooled beers, ready to go for... what I think is the third test. I'm not exactly sure.

Of course, the sad part is that I afterwards proceeded to waste hours just listening to music (particularly the two tracks mentioned waaaaay above) and reading up on random things, so when it comes to measuring how much of my night was spent doing something productive, the number came up to roughly 83% 14%.

However, that 14% was wisely spent working during my buzzed state, and that work ended up becoming something monumental (at least in my book) - the completion of 1/11th of Operation: DREAM EATER!



I'm pretty sure I heard a "Say what!?" out there. I'm not joking - one task is actually complete.



Anyway, in the event that the tags weren't any indicator, then the task I completed was "write a poem." I mentioned before that I had an idea I wanted to work on "...when my poetic muse wants a turn at the wheel," but not once did my mind think of that project this night. Rather, in my buzzed state I came up with an idea that stemmed from a conversation a friend and I had one night. I decided to go with that - fresh material usually yields better results when first encountered.

As per usual with my (old) work (and with poetry clichés, in general), the end result was a tad... melancholy. However, I instilled a good amount of positive hope in the end, and I'm sure the quantity of it was sufficient.

Bear with me - while I'm used to posting my work online, I'm not used to the fact that I haven't written actual poetry in ages. So basically: ignore things like the lack of rhyming (because poetry doesn't have to rhyme) and the very uneven flow of the words.

Oh, and ignore the somewhat-cliché and not-so-inspirational title (because after you see the title, you'll look back at this entry and give off one of those not-so-surprised "Huh" noises) - it's a work in progress.





Serenade of the Survivor
by Josh D. "Whitey" Blanco

I escaped from a gulag – my own personal Hell
a life in a warzone that I once called home
where lies were lullabies
blind hatred was law
and concepts of "happiness" existed only as myth

My situation and past were unique! I thought
no one else had been caught in that war
my scars unique to my time
for a crime that was never mine
no one could know, could understand

That all changed when we talked one day
you heard my harrowing story
dismissed me as petty and blind
revealed that my anguish was not unique
and told me a story that froze my blood cold

A different time and a different conflict
unique for you yet similar to mine
a world of peace, of happiness
of an enchanted, merry life
in a land unmired by battle

Then a bombshell – war!
you didn't know it at the time
one side fought another, claimed a stake
fought jagged tooth and bloodied nail
no care for collateral, for decency, for sanity

And where were you in all this?
under crossfire and deceit
in a foxhole carved with tears
never understanding why this was
and why peace could never be

You relocated as the hostilities went on
walking through miles of misery
overdrugged with the untruth
went from child to statistic
in a game you didn't want to play

And yet you tell me you escaped?
a miracle that sounded like mine
sanity leveled and rebuilt almost whole
somehow able to reach for peace
from a prison that offered you only war

The scars your bleeding heart bears
etched a message on my soul
a testament to our pasts, our torn worlds
and the lives of others like us
a serenade that sung "you're not alone"

An as we live on, please keep hope alive
for others disillusioned like we once were
their wars are now ours, that we walk with them
heads held high, our victory cry eternal:
"We survived. WE SURVIVED."





Interesting, really. What really intrigued me was the metaphor that this poem stood for. I'll leave it open to interpretation and comments, but I'm wondering if anyone can see what the message is here. I'm happy with it thus far, but after staring at the poem with far less alcohol in my system, I began noticing things. They're minor nitpicks, but enough for me to potentially warrant a second draft.

• The title. Explained above the poem, so I won't repeat.
• I don't think it flows all too well. I can probably go back and edit it, but... I'm a tad tired for that at the moment. After all, I did post this at nearly four in the morning.

No matter - the fact that Operation: DREAM EATER is officially a step closer to success just excites me in a manner similar to listening to "Lost Woods" after a bad day.

And yes: comments are welcome. Flames will be used to cook my summer s'mores.





Anyway, I'm going to go ahead and get some shut-eye. Lord knows I'll need it for later on tonight at work (what, with it being a Friday and all).
Since my customary farewell would seem... weird (as I'm sure I'll see a good portion of you later on today) given the circumstances, I shall simply say:

*loud snore*

Televised Poetry

Today was sort of a lazy day for me. I spent it doing some light cleaning followed up by watching a bunch of TV shows I said I'd watch eventually... but rather than talk about all that stuff, I present to you: my day summarized in haiku format.



A day of nothing
solitary and tranquil
...SO self-rewarding.



Back to the DVD player! *goes back to catching up on TV series he hasn't been watching*

The Master Manipulator

I had a weird day.
I woke up to a phone call saying I was covering a mid-shift.

On a Tuesday. On my day off.

Yeah, I'm probably over-exaggerating (yeah, I'm not), but that's not the point.
After I came home, I felt... compelled to look through some of my old things since I had the time.
So I stopped by my storage unit, grabbed a box of old papers dating back from God-knows-when, went home, popped in some old episodes of How I Met Your Mother and leafed through said box's contents with ambient, laughable background noise*.

And during that time, I came across an old poem I wrote back in high school. Granted, it's not my best work**, but... eh.
If anything, anything I post that dates back to this year can be used as a reference guide to show how I've either improved or stayed on the same plane between then and now.

It was a light poetry project where we had to throw up a poem. And I delivered. (I hope.)



* = And it's not just any background noise. It's totally legend-WAIT FOR IT.***
** = They say that an artist is their own worst critic. I subscribe to that theory.





"Life - The Master Manipulator"
By Josh D. "Whitey" Blanco


Life is the King of Dreams
pleasant, playful, perfect.
All about fun, success
faultlessness, friends,
love, contentment, power,
a care-free life.
We adore the King of Dreams,
for he rules us with
happiness, the light.

Life, however, is also the Queen of Nightmares
chaotic, cunning, confusing.
She makes you feel
worthless, alone, depressed.
She forces you to see
despair, destruction, death.
And darkness and dreariness
are what the Queen of Nightmares
rules this kingdom with.

I guess it could be said that
Life is nothing but a master manipulator
and we are nothing but mere marionettes.
Life tugs on our pull strings, lets us
achieve goals, find happiness, bring about peace.
But then Life pulls the other way
creating failure, grief, and bringing about war.
Life should just cut our strings and set us free...





Heh... well... I'll see you tomorrow.

Oh, wait; almost forgot...!

*** = -dary. LEGENDARY.

The Nameless Angel

I leafed through some of my old stuff again today, and I found a poem I felt compelled to share.
That, and I wanted to archive it on the Internet for all eternity (or until the servers crash and lose all the data ever archived).

So, yeah. Here...



"The Nameless Angel" (working title)
Josh Blanco

Another chaotic day
becomes my history as I come home
I see the gateway to relief: my bed
dive into the cold pool of sheets
and begin to relive the day

A melody of words emanates the air
asking if I was alright
I face the open door
see a glowing golden seraph
gazing back at me

She stands in the doorway
erenely cute as ever
curtly smiles my troubles away
becomes my true confidante
as I rant life's problems away.

As I vent her petite form sits next to me
becomes my ever-longed voice of reason
guides my thoughts
with her cotton-soft hands
and an invigorating smile of hope

She sings a bright future into my heart
as velvet curls intoxicate my psyche
until the lines of reality and fantasy blur into one
her ethereal kiss
and the aftertaste of hope

She is an angel in my mind
formless in reality
a representation
of what I look for in love
my soulmate's spirit wandering free






I'm such a sap, aren't I? *sighs*