For those of you who love conspiracy and investigating secrets, these poems are littered with them, some more than others. Most contain cryptic with clues about past, present and the future.
Some are a tip of the hat to those that have I admired and who've inspired what once had me fired up about getting wired. I guess I got tired. Its not funny how fast the time goes only to wind up right back where you started.
by Brian Joseph Johns
Two had qualm with one another.
They sought no means by to recover.
Day in day out they'd seek reprisal.
Living out their daily trial.
Then one day with a grand puppet.
Did the other come to trump wit.
He bid the puppet to attack.
It hit the other in the back.
"You hit me there as plain as day!"
"Speak your defense you'd better say."
"T'was not me, I did not hit you."
"T'was the puppet, I saw him kick you."
To this the victim did respond:
"With your puppet I'll abscond!"
And when he finally did come back,
He used said puppet to give a whack.
His enemy stunned at this procession,
exclaimed "how dare you take possession"
That's my puppet and you attacked
"You hit my head and I've been sacked!"
"It was the puppet. Not me, I'd not."
"I saw it do this, his wrath wrought!"
The other frustrated took the strings,
and walked it home to fix these things.
The next morn the two began to fight.
All through the day and into night.
They hurt each other to no end.
When the puppet showed for peace to rend.
"You two fight! enough's enough!"
"To win a fight makes not one tough!"
"To win a peace that is the prize."
"But not to win by a bed of lies."
"You know my puppet, I think you're right!"
"I've cured our conflict on this night!"
"I steered you to this course of action."
"To our mutual satisfaction."
The puppet turned and said to him,
"You speak no truth, just lies and whim."
"When I hit your adversary."
"You blamed me despite the truth contrary."
And when he tried to hit you back.
He blamed me too for that attack.
So for this peace I do accept.
The credit's mine and to be kept.
Copyright © Brian Joseph Johns 2014
A Nameless Poem written on September 9, 2014
Her beauty is a twine
through me runs like wine
and though I've seen her nought
she's there in every thought
Copyright © Brian Joseph Johns 2014
Here is a copy of a letter I wrote in response to a posting I found on Craigslist for a free online rpg game. I am a big fan of Dungeons And Dragons and have been so since I was a child. I guess I have to thank TSR (now Wizards Of The Coast) and Tolkien for that.
A Response To A Craigslist Ad on Sunday July 13, 2014
Well met. I hereby do officially seek further response with regard to the aforementioned adventure you referred to in a posting on a wall in Ye Craigslist House Of Ale And Mead. I found the posting on the wall thereof and in seeking such adventure sought a response. I am a practitioner of the "arts" and am useful in many situations ranging from the interpreting of ancient languages and dialects to the conjuring of food and sustenance to feed a group of such adventurers like mine own. My skills and martial prowess is much to the envy of many and you and yours in company may find my services useful.
In response to a lady named Rose...
Just as your namesake. Bringing into being beauty and benevolence by name bore alone.
Perhaps that's why it rhymes with Rise?
And you too. Those who do. You too are part of the brew. If only how much you knew then we'd truly know how few do.
But for sure only a Rose truly knows.
Brian Joseph Johns
This one is a little blunt.
This poem sort of answers that though for sure others might know me as "beatup" meaning I was the guy who died on a side walk on Terraview Dr. and was resuscitated in an ambulance shortly after being picked up. Another person who lived there with us was Ron Silk who later moved on to live with a lady and her two children.
I worked for a hotel, just like my friend John Penny which made me a little bit like Trent. John is in there a little too and his admirable all or nothing attitude that makes you realize that you're alive in case you forget. One of the hardest working people I've known with a penchant love of blues music. My friend Ian and I were and still are much alike. A poet as well who has kept most of his efforts within the confines of his journal or his soul which are both the same thing sometimes. A man on his way to meet his bride. They're both very fortunate.
That tells a little bit about where the idea of Trent came from in Stories From The End though it still doesn't answer who Rysalin is drawn from in Stories From The End. I lived in Trent's shoes from 1990 forward for a time working in a hotel. While single and shy, I had a girl who worked for part of the catering department that dealt with their specific clientèle. I never had the nerve to approach her at the time and we never met again after that though she may have been symbolic of someone who it would have been wrong to approach. She never expressed interest, not even in a hateful sort of way as someone else had hinted that I'd never had the confidence to really talk with.
Trent is a little bit of me, but there are some other people in there too. Rysalin, who is a composite of many women I've met, especially who've courageously taken up to learn a new language while earning a living alone in a completely unfamiliar place. Don't get the impression that I'm a womanizer, because I'm not. Every one of my encounters with a partner in the last ten years I can count on one hand without the need of my thumb and I don't jump into that without the prospect of monogamy and commitment.
From the time that I was 13, I was a bit of a new romantic goth punk when I was young and was among the first in my city to be as such after meeting a friend named Doug though kind of found my way there by music. There were others at that time but it was extremely rare. I was knocked unconscious by someone in my school because they thought I was gay. By the time I was sixteen I was attending all night dance clubs and many of my friends were gay. I was effeminate but still attracted to women but I'd never had any problem with homosexuality on the part of men or women. I hadn't been subjected to social polarization until 2000 in any real sense so I remained pretty docile and easy going until then. The rest I'll let you figure out as there is quite a bit of puzzle there.
No this isn't a poem where I give you clues and you guess what notable person it refers to, this is my life if it were wrapped up in verse but not inverse (or perverse hopefully).
I recently wrote this poem as a sort of draw my life, though I thought that I'd do it as a poem. There seems to be a lot of people interested in the group of us that lived at 59 Shandon Avenue in Toronto Ontario in 1990 forward.
I'm the guy who walked when two
I'm the guy whose parents taught
I'm the guy who wanted drums
I'm the guy whose parents taught
I'm the guy who wrote on them
A week along its release plan
I'm they guy whose halloween
I'm the guy whose coloured hair
He looked to me and thought me gay
I woke up later left to wake
I'm the guy who wore gold to his ears
I'm the guy who left home young
I'm the guy who stayed away
I'm the guy whose guardians saved
I'm the guy who wrote software
I'm the guy whose programmer guru
I'm the guy whose teachers forged
I'm the guy who worked for Bond
I'm the guy who took this gift
Though power isn't what I seek
Good Things And Inspirations For Characters
My mother, aunts and cousins of whom many are artistic, Yi who I mentioned, Lori, Janice (a friend from FFP), Angela (also from Animation Group/FFP), Louise Lillyfeld (all represent a part of Mila) and Lianne Lanziner (Shaela) and Jennifer O'Neill (Shaela) also had a huge influence on the characters as we've had many mutual heroes together. I've mentioned a lot of women who've gone into rounding out the characters as a whole. Lillian represents a cross section between Mila (in her free loving character) and Nelony (in her love of nature).
As far as Stories From The End, Stanton was based upon a hybrid between Arnold Schwarzenegger and Stephen Lang and a friend of mine who had similar real life training. Foller was a combination of a younger Kevin Kline mixed with Jason Stratham or Jean Claude Van Damme. The Power plant workers like Elena, Dave and Matt are a mix of people that I've known and some not celebrity and some who are. Elena I always pictured as possibly being either a Spanish actress or another strong lead who played well off of the Dave character. She was partly inspired by Lillian and possibly even a coworker named Diana. Dave would best have been played by someone like Steve Carrell or even Zach Galifianakis.
Stanton's role is an important for the role model of the future. One who doesn't sacrifice their determination or compromise their sense of right and wrong, finding their way back onto the path where they take into consideration their power to affect the world from where ever they are in whatever they do. Even his questioning of how to handle the people who are obstacles such as Foller, the sniper team and even those whose dire plans are dismantling the order of the world. How he handles those people will affect not only the present but the future. How to nullify the effects of a century and more of polarization without pacifying the human drive or spirit.
The end of the world club would definitely be a mixture of five people young and old. Ranging from Lance Henricksen, Helena Bonham Carter are two I was thinking.
The other characters of A Lady's Perogative like Yirfir and Jasmer I pictured as someone like Susan Sarandon or Helen Mirren and Jasmer would have been played well by Christopher Walken or another charismatic lead like Pierce Brosnan or Liam Neeson. I initially thought of someone like Gordon Pincent. Some relatives and friends come to mind as well. Mila, Shaela and Nelony are very personal to me and I find it so hard to pin them down to one person. I sometimes think about Milla Jovovich's mannerisms when I write the character, other times she is more like a ballerina, even Rachel McAdams, Lucy Liu or Nathalie Portman and most definitely Bjork and some relatives as well comes to mind though she is so hard to single down to one set of qualities. Mila is very free minded and spirited which is what gives her love such power when she chooses to give it to Barris. Barris I can not for the life of me pin down as well. Hugh Grant and Simon Pegg were inspirations for the mannerisms and wit as well as Doctor Who and Benny Hill.
Shaela I can't pin down as well but she is a strong minded and forceful character with a lot of presence that somehow still has to be vulnerable enough to be protected by a two thousand pound giant cat from another dimension. Mila Jovovich also would make a great Shaela as a start though Shaela's character arc is the opposite of most strong female roles. Its like My Fair Lady where instead of suppressing the parts that make her strong, she accentuates the part that make her sublime in character and stealthy in demeanor without taking from the strength of her personality. We know she's powerful but she'd best learn to keep that power hidden and use her personality, diplomacy and stealth before her power. Sarah Polley also would do a great Shaela portrayal.
Sato, an important character in some of the events to come was inspired by Pat Morita, George Takei (his penchant for humour is scattered throughout Sato's character), Jackie Chan (for sure he'd play such a role with the humour that Sato would deserve) and Joel Grey (whose performance in Remo Williams was close to the kind of character Sato is). Sato is the antithesis of cliche character archetypes such as the ancient sage mentor who is struggling with finding his place in a modern world where the penchant for magic, superstition and folklore is changing and even disappearing.
Nelony is another difficult character to pin down. She is the archetypal Mother Earth, but still in training in way over her head in balancing between the day to day emotional needs of dealing with people and the health of the planet and all of its species. Most of her most interesting qualities are yet to come in the Nelony(s) there are as there are now two. I think about some relatives when I write her and an old friend and everything else just comes from what I perceive of someone who'd suddenly had the weight of the past on their shoulders while they were still in training for life. That's a bit about it.
Testament Of Time which is connected to some of the stories though I won't get into how until later and have more time to focus on a peaceful writing environment. The characters in it are strong roles, especially the Susannia and Margaret.
Heroes Of Our Own is another case of strong lead roles and role models and once again, to break the mould of typecasting of the roles women have played extending them to include genius scientists like Alicia, and motivated and determined characters like Heylyn whose heroism really comes not from her costume but from within. Much of that ground has been broken by shows like CSI and NCIS but it could be taken further.
An automobile is a wonderful work of engineering and design, as is an aeroplane or a boat or any other vehicle that we've designed and built.
The human body is another wonderful design whether you believe that it was created by an engineer in the form of a Diety or an alien, or by sheer chance over a number of generations of an original genome somewhere in the distant past. It is still a marvel of design and creation.
The common factor though with all of those things is that they need a driver to be anything more than what they are and a reason or a motivation to go where there go and do what they do.
Without that "driver" they are but marvels of static beauty. Even with A.I. or path finding and navigation algorithms they still lack desire and curiosity and creativity without a mind to take them to the reaches of their limits.
Brian Joseph Johns
An Ode To Thee
Knight Brether, Samurai Brether, Righteous Wolver Beast, There 'Pon Roland
I dropped to my knees in exhaustion, the foe vanquished as yet another,
My blade cleened as my doth soul through seeth avenger kempt.
That is why the moon sings and the blade is curved for it seeks and nought
Love is mortal as is life. Death is perfect though only if the life from
Upon drawing my blade, I knew he was complete and felt glory for his completion.
He'd learnt the way of the warrior yet yielded to the way of the dissolute, and
My blade speaks for his pain as it does his fraughtful lyearning. None are frea as
A Quiet Sunset For Us And Wii (Twelve Years Later)
While working in the west end of Toronto in 2001 I wrote this and poem and several others eventually losing them and being forced to rewrite them here. This is my best reconstruction at several of them with hidden clues that acknowledge each of those poems.
The title comes from the shortest poem that I ever wrote. It was written in 2002 and goes:
There is no I in us or we.
[Addition: June 8, 2014
The poem didn't mean that we disappear in the crowd or collective as I am a strong believer in individuality. It meant that when in such a group we don't lose our individuality but our consideration should be as much for others as it is for ourselves in sharing. ]
A year or two later Nintendo released the Wii. I guess they proved me wrong. Nintendo is a real innovator and a great company that I've admired for a long time.
I watched the sunrise quietly,
When I'm alone I'm not afraid
I'm alive, of that I'm sure.
There are people who will steal,
Defend it all with your love.
Two are one and one are wii,
A thief once did come to my life,
I told some people about this plight,
It's all a market, don't waste your time,
There's something that I need to ask you to share with me my friend.
Brian Joseph Johns
Copyright 2002, 2013 Brian Joseph Johns
Your eyes lead to struggle though it's nought a faulty find
Brian Joseph Johns
Copyright 2002, 2013 Brian Joseph Johns
She smiles and looks
The silence speaks words
Silence is not golden
There is no us just
Their words sting sometimes
It is just a trick
It's tender but bold
It never hurts you
You choose my pure heart
My fear is nought pure
I'm nought lone with her
Dreams: Believing Is Seeing 2012
For foolishness and what it seems
We sail its waves all through the day
Beyond its shores we come alive
Coincidence and circumstance
The cerebral quantum ocean
The Butterfly Dragon
A mythical fairy tale written for the story "Heroes Of Our Own" by Brian Joseph Johns
assumed mythos origins for purposes of the story:
Far East, Norwegian, Scandinavian, Polynesian, Aboriginal North American
themes: defending grace, beauty, artistry, the vulnerable (not about gold diggers as per comment)
This tale is about a large field where many creatures lived
All of the creatures that lived there lived there in harmony,
There were the ants, the worms, the hornets, the snakes, the mice, the birds and the butterflies.
They had no enemies and the field would provide all of the food that they needed to grow up and have children starting the whole cycle over again.
It was very peaceful there until one day the collectors happened upon this field.
A very vile group of collectors whose cruelty was without equal would collect the most beautiful specimens of each of the creatures and keep them trapped while they kept them inside of a jar and tormented them.
The cruel collectors would show up and claim one of the most beautiful of each of the creatures from the field young and old alike every time, taking them away never to be seen again where they were kept in a jar while they were tormented and exploited for the benefit of the collectors.
The creatures had a meeting and every one of them that lived in the field showed up.
The creatures tried to figure out what they were going to do about these cruel collectors.
The mice said: The snakes can bite them.
The worms said: The birds can eat them.
The ants said: The hornets can sting them.
The birds said: The mice can scare them.
The butterflies said: We can stop them.
To which the rest of the creatures laughed asking:
What ever can a butterfly do?
The butterflies left the meeting feeling worthless and like they could not help because they could not do anything but be graceful, beautiful, artistic and vain while all the other creatures could at least do something.
One night the butterflies got together and decided to make a cocoon.
When they made it they included an antenna from the ants,
Then they left it to grow and grow it did.
One day the cruel collectors returned to the field to collect one of each of the rest of the creatures.
Each of the creatures was put in the jar as the next one was collected.
When the collectors went to take a butterfly the already humongous cocoon opened.
Out came a ferocious Dragon.
The Dragon had the wings of a butterfly so it was beautiful.
The Dragon said to the cruel collectors:
You've taken one each of the creatures of the field.
For the mouse, I will take your left leg.
The collectors dropped all of the creatures they'd collected that day and tried to run before they were stopped again by the Dragon.
The Dragon spoke:
For all of the creatures that you've already taken I will take your lives.
The collectors cried:
No, no! We shall return them at once.
The collectors returned a short time later with all of the creatures they'd collected and set them free though the creatures had been tormented to no end and were emotionally frail and distraught.
The Dragon then asked the returned creatures whether the collectors should be allowed to go free or to pay the price to which the creatures replied...
After the creatures had made their decision the creatures of the field never laughed at the butterflies from that day forth.
What's stronger than steel,
Heals most wounds,
It lasts through the ages,
Brings people to their knees,
No Chaperon Needed
Some they claim to know your love,
Some they'd put chains to a dove.
Some they claim they know what's best,
But only to benefit their behest.
Neglect is not a better feature,
Balance is a better teacher.
Knowing when to help is fine,
one's grip is best not all the time.
Enough's enough, now let things flow,
you constrict that which you don't let grow.
Experience teaches without a hand,
To learn one's own does wisdom grand.
To use words to make a shape but never make a sound.
Most afraid to ask themselves: what is our real nature?
A Life Well Lived Haiku
hard to balance on two wheels
the first few years
Running with a stick,
too many to stop them all
he shoots he scores
Numbers too many,
drawing on the side of pages
homework is dull
The first windsor knot,
too much to do in one day
a busy graduation
Six comes early,
effort feels like a dead end
the rent gets paid
One hundred and ten,
nobody will know the difference
another speeding ticket
Untouched plates on the table,
its difficult to break the silence
our first date
A knock at the door,
She smiles through the curtain
a sleepless night
So many people,
hands through pockets searching
he lost the ring
She thinks I gave up,
feathers amidst the laughter
the pillow breaks
Hands clasped together,
a few moments in the years
we broke the kiss
In many pieces,
tears that sting those two eyes
a broken heart
As quick as it came
descending through the air,
a quiet sunset
Few have grasped,
it leaves before you know
a life well lived
for this thing not is just word sown,
Its nothing that ever can be sold,
Nor useful is it to be told.
Some embrace it, with return,
others neglect but do not learn,
To some this is just a pretense,
Keep reading and it will all make sense.
For travellers had their seeker's yield,
yet those who fear their feet are sealed,
minds lost inside to their own dark,
souls in mid-drift without their spark.
Do you taste tears when your soul seeks?
a mighty river dammed to creek,
all is lost just to forestall,
potential cost is none too small.
Is this not story for all who peer,
into the depths nought read by seer,
to wonder why won't fill a purse,
but not to fills the soul with curse.
Be here when here and there when there,
Don't strip your world, she's her own to bear.
Your dreams be yours and my dreams mine,
This journey's only friend is time.
Look all around and you'll see,
to venture forth that is to be.
Stride by stride our purpose found,
No longer by our shackles bound.
Each step closer takes us two,
toward that place just out of view.
Though keep your sight right by your sides,
for that's where every treasure hides.
We're here to sing, here to dance,
follow your bliss and take a chance.
Walk forward proudly, be your best,
Hosts we are as well as guest.
Arrived then have we at the door,
this voyage done, though I know there's more.
I turn the handle with a pause,
and open slowly, gazed to beyond.
For we all have laughed, all have cried,
We have smiled, and we have sighed.
To love but once is enough to know,
Into the yonder we will go...
What is now was then,
Living in the past,
You I Sought
I did what I could, I had no choice
I gave it to you then as I've given it now
Can you even hear me? If not then tell me how.
It's been many years and I've searched high and low
I've given up so much just to try and let you know
Though time has hardened up my shell to spikes and then to stone
Inside I've still the same stout heart though lonely and alone
You may not think that we're alike or that we're meant to be
But I believe I've known your soul for most of eternity
This isn't chance nor is it fate, I think you know that too
The first time that I saw you is when I really knew
Nothing ever happens if you don't take a chance
If you should choose not to then you have made your stance
And every path we'd followed that lead us to this place
Washed away in a rain of tears fell from your beauty's grace
And though I'd be without you, I still would want you well
As my hope doesn't perish nor does my affection quell
For what I have you given as it's roots do take hold
It will by much get better as we surely do grow old
Vigil Of Constancy
There is something from nothing, as nothing is something,
As it is to spit in the very essence from whence you came.
Any can look on, hidden in the grove or in their numbers
Casting stones without signature, words without their face
Attacking the fallen, as cowardice has many friends, but none true.
Misdirection is the friend of the fiend, and finds only the like
The trail ever leading to some distant source of ignorance kempt
There is no shame in keeping thee against this stirge;
For it is the thief of innocence!
Is This Resolve?
In time I've found out what it means to be moved by nothing and still by all
I remember everything about her kiss but nothing of her name
Every colour in her eyes though she may not feel the same
You see, I left myself in the past, somewhere in the mind
And though I've kept on searching, its now that I can't find
Voices are just echoes, those who've long gone by
Tear drops turned to deserts, rivers long run dry
I once put name, within verse, to know if some could see
A revelation became revolution and many became free
Some had found that they could see just through their own belief
And others in their waiting found that time was their true thief
To watch the sun for answers, is an exercise in strife
Sometimes we are reflections, in a mirror that is life
Living in the past, makes harbour for regret
The good things that you remember, are the future you beset
I once told a distant friend, that there's no I in us or we
A golden idol to one whose path was set with pain
Hate can be used by some people to steer the outcome of your future path, to steal your past and swap theirs to yours and to provoke reaction at the least opportune of times.
What you do might leave your person find way to another
Was it you or was it them? determination's question
Some use hate to make you bad enough to act with malice
Guard Your Treasure
Guarding one's treasure does not mean hoarding and not sharing. It means be guarded about with whom and how you share it. Some might lay claim by right that's none theirs to take or some might lay claim despite their effort's lack they make. You should always share it abundantly with your love (a spouse, your love interest) as you do your love for that person to one and the same.
A person makes or does out of inspiration
Deeming whether they're the source is theft of action
. . .
Building hate to change your team
They'll watch your good deeds fill before
The most effort that they'll make
Keep love safe, protect it well
And when you feel it coming on
What Time Took
Time took some numbers but not all
A zero there somewhere within
Is it wrong to long for touch
To travel years without this breath