Pumping Poetry

Here's something to read till I'm finished with LTAB season.

I was in a very different position when I wrote this piece...I tried my hardest to rhyme EVERYTHING. Sometimes it was successful and other times it wasn't. But I think it correctly captures the agony and struggle that comes when writing, as well as the feeling of "it was worth it" when a piece is finally finished.

So...here we are again
My feet, back on the track
Face pristine like a picture on a kodak
Socks tucked in and bottle in the backpack

I admire myself for one last time
Knowing I will have to leave my past life behind
And be content with a set of new looks
My eyes stare back in lines like a Rook

The conveyer belt twists and turns
I am unaware that I have much to learn
Am I ready to make the leap?
Upon that mill of tread
Made of copy paper and college rules

My feet slam the ground, making no sound
I shut off everything in the background
As I surround myself with Bach’s Concerto in F minor
Hoping that the soliloquy of piano and strings will provide a symphony large enough for me to forget…
The task that lies before me

I think about how I’ll color this blank page
My large disposition gives me ambition to fight
Years of acquiring so many ideas I am finally ready to create rather than to simply watch
I want to burn every last calorie before an overdose busts my arteries
And have thoughts, ideas, and dreams flow in poetic harmony

But how come I can’t just quit?
Why must I burn off several pounds of ideas, all of which I have recently acquired?
Taken from roaming throughout the earth, treading back and forth on its desires
Who cares if I, greedily stuff ideas in my mouth as I am inspired by the words of others?
It is the easy way isn’t it?
To thieve rather than to conceive... a new creation
But listening is good and I don’t want to be misunderstood but we have to do more than copy some phrases, make a clone, and call it our own
We must turn thought into action and remove every distraction as we become the Emerson’s and take our own path
Even if it may be terrifying

Yes, it’s time for me to start
And write this poem
And let the sweat roll off my face
While the words splatter on to the page

I’m pumped up and ready for action
Calmy deflecting any thought of giving up and slowing down
But there is...one more problem
In place of a fallacy, comes one more lie
Like a monster that can’t be controlled,  I’m sold on this idea that writing is easy
That I can run the tri-writeathlon by reading a few books
That I can catch the perfect idea in the pond with only a hook, and not worm
I prepared very poorly for this
This is no cruise control and flat Illinois driving
This is a rocky and thunderous storm and Devil’s Lake hiking
Where each thought competes and fights for top seat
The sum of them are expendable and they all live, die, and repeat
You can’t get too attached to one
You have to let it go, and be done

With pen in hand in hand I’m a flurry of black, blue, and red
Switching the tune of my song I try another draft
Switching my feet and running more, even if my legs are beat
As body meets metal and ink meets page
Circuits course with rage and on this stage

But I must battle through the fatigue
And the obstacles that come racing toward me
Flyin up like Rodan and swooping down like Mothra I breathe fire like Godzilla and let out my roar of terror
This beast called Writing is fighting like a fire-breathing Chimera
Like a Hydra its heads multiply and grow and show no signs of stopping
The words refuse to compose themselves into something agreeable
The drafts won’t change into anything readable
And to turn a career out of this seems unforeseeable
I feel like Jacob wrestling with God
Trying to make my voice heard as I’m thrown into the sod
But I can’t give up give up and cringe at failure’s touch
Though I am trusted with little, I will strive to do much

So as I lap, I see the greats and those who have come before me
Bradbury, Orwell, Vonnegut, and Dickens
They mean to inspire but in truth they are the villains
As I am reminded about how far I am behind them
My soul burns to be acknowledged in a similar way and to have my writing be up there
To flex my muscles and be on the New York Times Bestseller

But to achieve those lofty dreams does not mean to use recurring themes
It means to stay grounded in reality and put in the work, rather than find the easy way out
But look! It’s one week past and I’m finally finished with my rough draft
For a duty that is easier said than done,
My knees ache with pain before the first act is won
As I pour more water into the ocean of liquid on my face, and I begin to lift some weights to continue with phase two
I’m pumpin through lead, ink, and copy paper
As my creative edge dissipates into vapor
And I pray to the one who spun the moon and stars
And I cry: why can’t this be good enough? Why must writing be so hard?

But I persist
Shaking my fist
Despite the risks
Until I push and pull and edit and write
I don’t stop until it all looks right
Smashin through more drafts, breaking down the Idon'tcares, pinching myself with a rubber band, and perfecting the crafts
I lift as the sweat of my ideas pours down like rain and will not stop until I stand unashamed at what I have here

But pain shoots from both legs and radiates like poison and the only option is to continue to write
But maybe...I hear my mind say
Maybe if I stopped this problem would drop
Maybe if I closed up shop...

Maybe...this writing thing isn’t for me anymore
But then to my surprise I find that one line and am comforted by the one above
Who tells me that though this life is hard, the afterlife is better
And it’s better to be a tryhard than a quitter

He told me that it gets better and rather than using my talent for personal gain, and keeping the first fruits for myself like Cain,
I should use it for his kingdom and glorify his work
And on that day he told me the words I told my poem on the day of its birth
Nothing will separate you from me
Never forget your worth

Subtitled Love (Action Movies)

Bang!

Boom!

Go on without me!

Save yourself!

The thin layer of fleece can’t stop the chills that scale up my back

Like a minefield, goose flesh explodes across my skin

Hairs stand at attention and droop slightly, in silent salute

Darth Vader didn’t make it out till the end alive…

Heartbroken, I chew popped maize by the mouthful

Greasy kernels disintegrate by my saliva

I stuff confidence and bravery in my mouth,

Yet as it sloshes down my throat,

I vomit it back, upchucking lament and cowardice

I can’t swallow back my screams

You see, my body is at war with itself

But that’s the price I pay,

When, for 124 minutes, my eyes are glued to an IMAX screen

PG-13 labels allow for restrained carnage, though characters still meet their grisly ends

Bullet-ridden bodies are pumped to the brim with lead, and crimson life trickles down

Body parts are blown off and my ears are too, by defeaning machine gun fire

Metallic cylinders spew like a hose, splotching red drops across torso and chest

Corpses of good plots are abundant on the soaked battlefield, making a cornucopia of parts Dr. Hollywood can use,

Yet despite the rehash of plot lines and special effects, I am swept up by this spectacle

But I never enter these war zones alone,

My grandmother was always at my side

Cheering with me when the protagonist survived,

Uttering a prayer of sadness when the antagonist died,

Clapping profusely when the credits rolled by

But it was in 2013 when I found out the truth,

I saw my grandmother watching a screen filled not with war,

But of drama and romance, subtitled in a language I knew, though the characters on screen spoke a different dialect

Then it struck me: my harmoni did not like action movies

Her past affirmations, covered thickly by her Korean accent, was done out of love

Not knowing English, she sacrificed her favorites, to spend time with me,

Because you don’t need to analyze a bloodbath,

So I have seen how violently she loves me,

Slicing and torturing potatoes to feed me,

Firing up praises to God, shaking the foundations of heaven with explosions of adulation and prayer on my behalf,

She shoots looks of love that pierce through my hardened skin, making me bleed happiness

Yet even after being hit with this fierce, un-spoken love,

I don’t go past a “thank you”

On the quest to bridge the language gap,

I am Tom Cruise, deeming this mission impossible

John McClane letting my monolingual habits die hard

Sylvester Stallone: I’m boxed in my ignorance on this rocky path

But now in 2016, I’ll reclaim the tongue I have cut

죄송합니다

난 배울거야

95th and King + Mellifluous Maledictions (Extended Edition)

I really should have posted this a while back so I apologize. The slam poem piece that I wrote called Mellifluous Maledictions was published in a Chicago State University Literary Magazine entitled 95th and King, the cover of which is shown below.

95th and King Literary Magazine Fall 2015 Vol. 1 Issue 1

It was truly an honor, and I would like to thank Ms. Kelly Norman Ellis and Ms. Concetta Williams, who were the editors of the magazine. I highly urge anyone who is interested to submit a piece of writing to their next edition at 95andking@gmail.com. Be sure to include a cover page with your first and last name, school name and address, grade, home address, telephone number, and email (all as an MS Word document). Since I already posted the poem on Montag's Musings, shown below is an extended edition, with a few more lines of dialogue that I performed at my youth group's open mic. The new parts are bolded. 



In the beginning there was...the word…
Transferred from the waters that stirred to form the seas on the third day,
For when God spoke, darkness broke, the piercing light won the fight over the formless night
Yes, on the day of creation, God saved the world from desolation and rose up the nation, uniting us under one language,
But with the bite of an apple, we built towers of Babel, and began a never ending-battle, with words
No longer “in God we trust” it’s now “all about us” as we wage world wars with our mouths, letting profanities fly out,
And now unlike before, we have become stewards of Gondor,
We refuse to give up the crown of our hearts back to the true king,
We let our ears get swarmed by a storm of music, movies, and TV
And let the Messiah get cut down by this cyclone,
Looks like Kanye West and Jay-Z did a poor job of watching the throne,
The latter leaving us a Blueprint to follow and what path we ought to walk,
Of how to look at women and structure our talk
As we are told to sip the can of pop culture,
And let the sin sizzle in our throats,
Then vomit back caustic phrases
And let those unforgivable curses become our daily source of liberation,

Why swearing and profanity is so shockingly frequent, that it is hard to have a conversation that is decent
And no matter the reasons for people's treasons each word leaves my skin beaten, the curses pierce my side like a lance
And though I take a moral stance hoping that people will snap out of this horrific trance,
I can't leave it up Chance because these problems are just too Common
Intertwining with every 2 phrases like Batman and Robin
Robbin clean words from their mouths, and scarring innocent souls, turning them into Two-Faced criminals
And as Lamar is dropping bars, the curse words shine bright like stars,
Looking notoriously big in an atmosphere of celestial beauty,
How can I strive to be a good kid in this m.A.A.D city?
It seems as the metal-detectors of our mouths don’t realize the deadly weapons that we carry,
As they let f-bombs pass through security
And while the female dogs bark and howl at our dirty mouths,
The soles of our shoes pick up dirt of the ground and our souls become dirtied by the smack of the locker room sounds

But, I’ll be a Rebel and Anomaly, and break free from the Gravity of profanity,
That despite the calamity and abnormality of reality, I will press on to a cleaner mentality,

I refuse to play games with profanity, none of my music has explicit tags
I’ll blast the clean versions loudly, I won’t care if you all get mad…

But people tell me, to grow up
That swearing is simply a natural part of life,
That a few words here and there are alright,
That I am a lone knight, and a flickering light, counting from 0-100 as I fight these fire Drakes

Yet I’ll keep on fighting because I know God will return one day
And when he does, everything will change
All will be different and nothing will be the same
So even if, back to back, I am faced with problems, 
Using my energy I’ll rise up to the challenge even if I started from the bottom
I’ll beat back the world’s flaming arrows, 
With the word of God that pierces flesh, blood, and marrow
But being isolated, I know that my heart can harden like Pharaoh
Daily I must fight to walk the road less traveled and take the path that is narrow, 
So though I am alone, I will accept my differences
I’ll cling to Jesus’ cloak and be healed by his reverence

But I am not doing this for my own glory,
I speak cleanly to glorify the author of my story,
And point back to the first time in Eden,
When no one was eatin’ and God wasn't leaving,
Back to the first day, before the world had stirred
Back to the beginning, when there was just... the word

West Coast Envy (Chicago's Winters)

I said that I would post this when snow first touched the ground here in Chicago. There was that one weird day earlier in November/December where there was snow but soon after it returned to tropical weather. To usher and prepare for Chicago's infamous winter, I wrote this poem (it's set around the holiday season so it is a bit dated). 


Mother Nature, being too ashy from the lack of lotion,

Sheds her skin, epidermal layers flaking off onto the Earth, causing a commotion, down below

As white blankets fall from the sky, covering hibernating vehicles

Screams of anger emit from worker’s lips, cursing the new layer they must clear off

As they cough up steam, taken from midnight closing coffee shops

Canines force their masters to take them on walks, their thick hides providing heat

While crisp air continually cuts caustically into the soft flesh of human meat,

Freezing insides and innards, transforming the outpour of our hearts into a hardened lake,

While thoughts of fatigue and depression ice-skate across the surface

The pavement groans as holes the size of pots crack and waste away at their pristine shine

Peppermint mochas and holiday CDs attempt to cleanse the bitter grime,

The muck and soot piling on the pure sheets of flake

As if bipolar temperatures aren’t enough, Mother Nature believes third time is the charm

Chicagoans get no break from this storm,

The only break we get is when we pump it twice, while skidding across the floor

Just when you think you’ve seen the last snow fall,

A new blizzard is unleashed, and you’re forced to crawl out of bed earlier,

Taking heavy picks and tools, hacking away at the new scales that have surrounded your car

Feeling salty as the boxes of sodium are emptied on streets and driveways, needing to be filled once more

But if only the brackish substances would melt our hearts as well,

For our souls no longer become wells, but leaky faucets

Dripping out a few dashes of compassion, while we start lashing out at the setbacks, this winter causes

That all of sudden, giving your last dollar to the man with the cardboard sign, is not benign

Thinking of your own survival,

As steam fogs up our glasses, we become forget about the masses,

Eyes blind to others, while we try and care for those we know

And while enjoying the company of family is admirably done,

If we rush home to be warmed by food and carols,

But miss the ringing of the Salvation Army bell,

Then winter has truly claimed our hearts,

Rather than letting compassion and love flow delicately, like the never-ending snow

Happy New Year!

I know that this is a day late and I apologize for that. But I wanted to wish everyone a HAPPY NEW YEAR! (y ¡Feliz Año Nuevo!) I cannot believe that 2015 passed by so quickly.

Image credit: http://www.advertisingmn.com/

I recently went on a trip to St. Louis for the Urbana conference, which blessed me in more ways than one. As I give thanks and praise for 2015 and look forward to 2016, I want this upcoming year to be Characterized by Surrender and Defined by Joy. My key verse for this year is Matthew 16:24, which states Then Jesus said to his disciples, "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me" (NIV). I must deny myself daily and gladly submit myself under God's authority. Rather than try to hold on to this ephemeral world with its fading desires, I want to surrender my life to God and find and trust the true joy that he has in store for me. Though the christian life is filled with risks and struggles, our God is one who will lead us through the storm and shower us with his presence. I pray that this year and for the rest of your life, you all can submit yourself fully to God's authority and realize just how great his plan is.

Some commitments that I want to make this year (not necessarily resolutions) are:

1) Daily, commit my life to God and submit under his authority. I want to begin with this prayer:

Dear God,

Today, I want to submit under your authority. Let your will be done through me today. 

Let me experience the joy of serving you.

Amen. 

2) Daily read God's word. My father has come up with the phrase ROQAM A (to be pronounced Rockem Ay) when it comes to reading. All of these steps are to provide a fuller and richer experience when I do my daily devotions.

R= Read
O=Observation
Q=Question
A=Answer
M=Meaning

A=Analyze


3) Memorize AT LEAST one verse once a week in english, and the same verse in Español.

4) Learn Korean (and maybe German). I will release a poem on my reason for this soon.

At the beginning of 2015, I made a similar list of commitments. It was much longer and I lived only by trying to "do those things." While in the beginning of the year it went well, I eventually began to burn out as the months went on. Before I do anything, I want to first submit to God and have him rule over my life. These other actions should simply be an outpour of what God is already doing in me.

SWDD #9 (Part II): Kylo Ren

So on December 18th, a little movie came out called Star Wars The Force Awakens....AND IT WAS AMAZING. There were some errors that I had a problem with, but overall, Finn, Rey, Poe Dameron, and BB-8 are leads that I can happily rally behind. The film had great characters, a healthy balance between nostalgia and innovation, and great action set pieces. I have seen it twice so far, and hope to see it again.

The Force Awakens (as does the franchise)
Image credit: Lucasfilms

Back in September, I wrote the first part of Kylo Ren's SWDD, and talked about how Ren considered his work and efforts to be unfinished. Both he and the First Order viewed themselves as finalizers of the Empire's work (though this is only mentioned briefly in the film, it is expanded upon in the comic book and novelization tie-ins). Having watched the film, there is another biblical lesson that can be gleaned from his expanding arc. Expect full spoilers to be divulged in the post below.

Kylo Ren flanked by Captain Phasma (left) and General Hux (right)
Image credit: Lucasfilms

It was a shock to see that Kylo "Ben Solo" Ren was the son of Han Solo and Princess Leia. Equally surprising was the fact that he destroyed Luke's attempts to rebuild the Jedi Order. Ren seemed like a character that was distant from the protagonists and the fact that such a personal relation could cause so much damage was horrendous (though I guess not necessarily all that surprising in retrospect of the previous Star Wars films). After Han Solo meets Leia after a hiatus of no contact, Leia urges Han to save their son and activate any light that is still left within. Though Han is reluctant, right before the film's climax, Han attempts to reason with Ren, telling Ren that he (Ren) has a choice to neglect the corrupted teachings of Supreme Leader Snoke and to join the light again.

Kylo Ren showcasing the breadth and scope of his powers
Image credit: Lucasfilms

Ren initially dismisses Han's remarks, repeatedly berating "your son is dead!" However, at Han's request, Ren removes his helmet and breaks down to his father. Ren exclaims that he "knows what he (Ren) has to do" (i.e. give up ways of the dark side to rejoin the light) yet he doubts that he has the strength to do so. For Ren, it seems almost easier to hold on to what has corrupted him; the dark side. It is harder for him to (ironically) turn back to the light side and abandon evil. Having been entrenched in the dark side for so long, Ren no longer feels "empowered by it" (as Snoke initially told him), rather, he feels enslaved to it, and drained by it. Han touchingly offers Ren to abandon Snoke once and for all, and to return home. And Ren agrees. He drops his helmet, pulls out his cross-guarded lightsaber, and hands it to Han as a token of surrender. Han grips the saber, but Ren still grips the weapon fiercely. It was one of the most tense moments in the movie. The whole time, Ren is having an inner battle with himself. It seems like such a simple task to simply give the weapon to Han, yet Ren is still so attached to it. Yet it seems like there is hope for Ren. And at the last second, as the lighting for the scene gets darker, Ren activates his lightsaber and impales his father through the chest, rasping a cold "thank you" before letting his (Han's) father's carcass fall.

The new face of evil
Image credit: Lucasfilms

This scene reminds me of two stories. The first is in The Lord of the Rings The Fellowship of the Ring, where Gandalf sternly tells Bilbo to drop the Ring. Bilbo manages to do so, but not without struggle. That much, the Ring was so enticing and had such power over Bilbo. The second story is that of Judas Iscariot. Having betrayed Jesus to the Pharisees, rather than repent Judas decided to hang himself and commit suicide. In the same way, Kylo Ren had an opportunity to walk away from evil (and in Judas' case, sin) for good. Instead, he succumbed to the dark side's enticing power, and sealed his fate by killing his father. Ren was so close! Yet that much, the dark side had a grip on Ren's life. And as a result of Ren's mistake, he ended up killing his father and wounding Finn. Ironically, in the film's novelization, it explains how Ren initially thought that killing Han Solo would empower him, yet instead, he only felt "weakened."

The fallen son
Image credit: Lucasfilms

In the same way, I felt like Ren. The allure of sin seems so enticing. I do not believe that I have the strength to "do what I need to do" which is turn to Jesus. Instead, I wish to keep on fighting the darkness on my own. Though at some points in my life it seems as though I may be victorious, I eventually get overcome by sin. And even after indulging in a sinful act, I only feel weakened. I repeated this cycle of "Sin, Repent, Sin, Repent" for many years, until this year actually. God moved my heart to realize my crucial mistake: that by my own strength, I am powerless against the forces of this world. Instead, I need to acknowledge that I am weak and that it is only God who is strong enough to save me. For so long, I was trying to save myself and it never worked. Thus Romans 10:13 rings so true for me: "Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved" (NIV). It is not by my name that I can save myself. It is only on the name of Jesus that I can be saved (and how fitting that is given that Christmas was yesterday).

Though there are two more movies to go with Ren's character (I am assuming), I expect that Kylo Ren will continue to grow and develop. I hope to write more SWDDs based off of his character. I hope you enjoyed this one. Be on the lookout for some new ones in the future!

A Post-script: I got Star Wars The Black Series 6 Inch Captain Phasma for Christmas (thank you Appa!), in addition to the Star Wars The Black Series 6 Inch Shock Trooper which is a Walmart exclusive. I wanted to write a SWDD on Phasma, but *SPOILER ALERT* her character was so underutilized in the film. I hope this changes for Episode VIII. Now, all I want are Star Wars The Black Series 6 Inch Jango Fett and Star Wars The Black Series 6 Inch First Order Flametrooper. (Sigh) the struggles of being a toy articulated action figure collector.

The Black Series Captain Phasma

Merry Christmas 2015

Photo credit: http://africachristian.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/Christmas-heading-1024x512.jpg

Merry Christmas! Or in other words:

Photo credit:http://heritageacademy.hfcus.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/07/Happy-Birthday-Jesus.jpg

I want to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas. On this day, Jesus Christ our Savior was born. On this day, God sent his son to become a human being to live and dwell among us. On this day, the death of evil was sealed. I am reminded now of John 1:1, which reads "In the beginning there was the word, and the word was God and the word was with God" (NIV). Later, in John 1:14, it states "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth" (NIV). This same word that was in there in the beginning has come to Earth to save me, an unworthy sinner. On this day, let us celebrate the gift of God's son!