The Five Maidens Sutra

Some time ago, I promised that I'd post up the final versions of the work I did for my Creative Writing class; now I'm finally getting around to doing it. Here's one of the three poems I wrote, and my personal favorite.

The Five Maidens Sutra

Mercury, Maiden of Journeys

Once, there was a saffron maiden...
...who was given providence over going, doing, travel, and the results from it.
Many Men wanted her for their own.
One by one, they approached her,
And she fled by the quickest route she found.
She says: "You still have a long way to go. I would keep moving."
Men cannot help who drives them.

Venus, Maiden of Serenity

Once, there was a sapphire maiden...
...who was given providence over all things which make life worth living.
Some Men say she cares most about the world,
Some Men say she cares most about Heaven,
Some Men say she cares most about herself.
She says: "Someone as pretty as you will always be wanted."
Love is smiling at your troubles.

Mars, Maiden of Battles

Once, there was a crimson maiden...
...who was given providence over war, strife, conflict, fighting, and struggle.
She struck an iron wall, and it shattered her hand.
She slew the thing she feared the most, and conquered the land that feared her.
Fate depends on how you face your battles, not whether you win or lose.
She says: "The stars hold only one more battle for you. This is not that battle."
Survival is control.

Jupiter, Maiden of Secrets

Once, there was an emerald maiden...
...who was given providence over everything known, and everything unknown.
Truths... Hopes... Prayers... Fears… Each brings an answer.
Each answer is part of a larger puzzle. The puzzle holds another question.
Men set aside their petty squabbles in her name.
She says: "Should I live or die? Am I living or dead?"
To know the world is to choose it.

Saturn, Maiden of Endings

Once, there was a violet maiden...
...who was tasked to cut each thread of Fate at Jupiter's direction.
Her death is a merciful one, giving way to new life:
An apple falling from the tree. A boy becoming a man. A beast, slain by fearful villagers.
Each ending allows for a new beginning.
She says: "No being can escape my duty."
There’s always an ending.

This poem was inspired by the Five Maidens in Exalted. The Five Maidens are together one of the Celestial Incarnae, the most powerful of gods. The Sidereal Exalted are the Chosen of the five Maidens, divided into castes under each of the Maidens. The sub-titles in this poem are the actual names/titles of each of the Maidens in the game, and the color in the first line of each stanza is the color associated with that Maiden.

This poem began by using the sutras found throughout the Charms chapter of Manual of Exalted Power: Sidereals, and the Sidereal Martial Arts chapter of Scrolls of Esoteric Wisdom, vol. I: Scroll of the Monk. I separated each sutra into which Maiden it might be applicable to, and then combined lines from several sutras to form the initial version of each stanza (generally, 3-4 sutras from the book contributed to one stanza). Once that was done, I modified the lines to make them flow better, give them extra structure, and modify the meaning of the stanza to give it the weight I wanted it to have. While there are still echoes of the original sutras in my work, I like to think that I've made it my own.

I think my favorite part of this poem is the ending, and several people in the class commented on it: ending the poem with the "Maiden of Endings" verse is particularly noticeable, as is the final line of the final verse: There is always an ending.

Journal Entry 02.10.09 [2]

The house was all wrong for them. The toilets too high, the beds too short, the walls too smooth, the windows too wide. Yet they were forced to live in that house, or else live on the street.

Pablo could not drink. Even though he was given water, it was not the drink he sought. Instead of drinking, he slept all day.

Roxy could not sleep. Even though she rested in the bed, she should always drift out. Instead of sleeping, she ran all night.

Juarez could not walk. Even though his feet and legs worked perfectly well, he fell each time he tried to move about the house. Instead of walking, he ate constantly.

Francine could not eat. Even though she had food available, there was always someone watching. Instead of eating, she drank until there was nothing left to drink.

It was all the house's fault, too. It was all wrong for them.

---

It was Sunday—not a day, but rather a gap between two other days. I may be outside of time, but Sunday often seems to be as well. Perhaps it is because the gods have forgotten us, or because we have forgotten them. The Sun still rises, but his namesake is losing touch with reality. Soon Sunday will be mine, and the week will be shorter than it is now.

Strangely, Moonday doesn't have this problem. It stands as a rock-steady bulkhead against the chaos of time. But the Moon isn't around as often as it once was, only showing her full face a few days each month. Yet she remains while the Sun wanes. Ironic.

Satrunday isn't slipping into my domain either, but for a different reason. Saturn would have my head if she thought I had any hold on her namesake. I stay away from it, not tempting such an ending. I must be satisfied with Sunday. For now.

---

Mother says that when I start talking I never know when to stop. I can't imagine why she would think that, I merely keep going until I run out of things to say - like yesterday at Ashley's birthday party, we were talking about the cute guy in Algebra class, but I actually knew what his name was (Jacob) and that he was actually in the chess club (how could a nerd be cute?!) and that he worked part time at the grocery store on Saccharine Street, and that his little sister is going to be coming to the school next year - but Mother didn't want to hear about it, she just smiled and nodded in that way parents do when they think they know better than you, but they never do, so I had to call Amber about the whole situation - Amber's mom lets her cook meals all the time, I think it's great that Amber knows how to cook, I've never gotten the hang of not burning things - and I talked to Amber about Jacob and how Mother didn't want to hear about Ashley's birthday party and how grownups never listen to the kids, but then Amber had to go because she had to cook dinner for her mom (isn't it cool that Amber can cook?) but I didn't know what to do after that so I asked Mother what she should do, but like a parent she said I should do my homework - as if, on a Friday - so I called up Susan to see if she wanted to go to the mall since Susan can drive and I can't because Father doesn't want me on the road, but Susan didn't answer her phone because apparently she was on a date with her boyfriend darn I wish I had a boyfriend to go on dates with anyway so after that I decided to waste time doing homework since I had nothing better to do but then you showed up and here we are.

---

During my holidays from school, I was allowed to stay in bed until long after my father left for work. It was luxurious to sleep in, for once, and I would often sleep most of the day away. I once even slept until my father came home from work, but he wasn't particularly happy about that.

"I know you're on vacation, Suzi, but if you sleep all day you'll ruin your appetite, get your internal clock all messed up, and never get to spend time with your friends. At least try to get up before noon!"

Typical parent, always concerned about the future. I only care about the now. And right now, I'm quite enjoying the extra rest.

---

I have a photo of a man whose name I don't know. I have a ring from a man I've never met. I gave a kiss to a man I'll never see. I know a word that that man will never say.

He broke my heart, and he could cease to exist, for all I care.

---

Jane's husband, Martin, works for the fire department. He risks his life every day to save strangers, often from their own folly. He never gets remembered, and rarely gets thanked. He likes it that way.

The last time someone thanked him, he became attached. He fell in love. He married, had a kid, divorced, and died a little inside. He risked his life so save her, and his heart for her to save him, but she failed. She was no fireman, like him.

I don't know how Martin and Jane met, but it wasn't anywhere near a fire, I know that much. They love each other totally, and Martin doesn't want to fail her like his first love failed him. So it's better that people see him, and then forget him. He can't get attached.

---

He had no body hair. It seems his species had evolved past such a need long ago. That, or he liked to swim competitively and wanted to shave of some of the drag. But probably his species had evolved past a need for body hair.

I don't know where they found him, and I don't know where he's from. They'll probably wipe my memory after the investigation, which is why I'm recording this now. The world needs to know that we are not alone in the universe.

He has no mouth, but his cloven feet seem adapted to absorb liquids, either directly or by crushing it out of vegetation (or perhaps the blood from an animal?). He has two eyes on stalks which allow him 270 degrees of vision, indicating a prey species in their history...

---

I read about it in the paper, in the subway, on my way to work. I was bombarded by advertisements, e-mails, and magazines. I overheard people talking about it, and tried to avoid getting into a discussion about it with others.

It's impossible to get away from the sad truth: I need a new cell phone.

Journal Entry 02.10.09

• Jonothaniel obtains a letter of marque from the New Pegasus Directive.
• He travels to Lantea in his Perseus-class interstellar fighter, and obtains equipment and provisions.
• On his way to Athosia, he encounters a merchant working for the Free State Alliance, and attacks in the name of the NPD.
• After taking the goods being carried by the merchant, he heads for the nearby wormhole interface to make his way to Teranis.
• The wormhole jump leaves him nauseous, and he is intercepted by an enforcement officer of the FSA about the merchant he attacked.
• Jonothaniel flees back into the wormhole interface to rest at the pirate haven at Geldar.
• At Geldar, he finds a derelict attack frigate and commandeers its onboard computer.
• With the reprogrammed attack frigate, he returns to the Teranis system to find the enforcement officer still by the wormhole.
• The attack frigate detonates its warheads, destroying the FSA officer and his ship.
• Jonothaniel hauls the fragmented ship to Teranis, and fences the scrap metal and stolen merchant's goods.
• He hears a news report about the FSA and the growing tensions between them and the NPD.
• He tunes his ship's receiver to news broadcast and flies to Lord Protector.
• At Lord Protector, Jonothaniel reprograms the attack frigate once again.
• The attack frigate flies into the Lord Protector space port and detonates all of its warheads.
• The FSA declares war on the NPD.
• Jonothaniel attacks FSA ships on-sight, taking their valuables and selling the rest for scrap.

With the reprogrammed attack frigate, he returns to the Teranis system to find the enforcement officer still by the wormhole.

"I'll get that bastard," he muttered to himself, "let's see how he likes a couple tactical nukes up his ass." Jonothaniel drifted towards the wormhole interface with the newly reprogrammed attack frigate in lockstep. Tee minus 10 to wormhole jump, toned his fighter's computer. Preparing for hyper-spatial warp jump. Three. Two. One. Ignition.

Jonothaniel attacks FSA ships on-sight, taking their valuables and selling the rest for scrap.

"Another pile of scrap, John? That makes thirty this month alone!" I hate it when he calls me John. "I suppose those Free State Alliance guys deserve it, though, declaring open war like that on the New Pegasus Directive. Not that this scrap metal is the charred remains of a starship, nor that the markings on them are in FSA colors." A knowing wink. But what does he care about war? His only involvement is when I sell him the scrap, or my spoils to any one of a dozen pawn shops like this one. I smile and nod as he talks on about duty. Duty, from a man living in Rogue space.

The wormhole jump leaves him nauseous, and he is intercepted by an enforcement officer of the FSA about the merchant he attacked

Take 1

Oh Deus, I'm glad I haven't eaten yet. They tell you your first jump can be bad, but they never tell you what they mean. Jonothaniel looked up from his aching stomach to take in his surroundings. Inky black space. A young, white-hot sun. The electric blue tetrahedron of a wormhole interface, which Jonothaniel would not soon forgive the pain he was currently in. Flashing blue and red lights... Wait, what? "Jonothaniel Blue. Ident number Seven-Twelve-Zero-Gamma-Bee. Pegasus-class interstellar fighter, 'Freewynd'. You are under arrest for the assault and murder of Geoffery Malacruzio Reshinan. By the authority of the Free State Alliance, you will power down your weapons, shut off your engines, and prepare to be boarded. Violent action will result in termination. You have five seconds to comply."

Take 2

"Ow ow ow ow ow. They give you permission to act in their name, they give you supplies to get started, they give you tips on where to go... but do they tell you what it's like to fly through a wormhole? No. It's just the minor details of piracy you get for free, even if you could figure it out on your own. Not the important stuff. Never the important stuff." Jonothaniel looked around him as he winced at the nauseating pain of his first wormhole jump. Planet, planet, planet, space station, star, wormhole interface, enforcement officer, "Crap."

Take 3

Space. The final frontier. Finally conquered by man, there is no place in the universe that poses an insurmountable challenge. Even here, in the Teranis system of the Pegasus galaxy, hope is strong, and the will of man survives. Do good deed goes unrewarded, or wrong unpunished. That enforcement officer for the Free State Alliance, for example, is waiting by the wormhole interface for the arrival of a wanted criminal, Jonothaniel Blue.

Take 4

That floor looks mighty inviting about now. Damn, if only I had thought to get and airsick bag or something. I hate wormhole travel; messes with me every time. Hey, it would be a shame to get those nice leather boots messy. Hey, man, those are real leather. Real cows, from Earth itself. Yeah, man, cost a pretty penny, too. Now wait... I know I dyed these boots blue, but my floor was gunmetal gray last time I checked. When did I install a fancy color changing floor? Blue... red... blue... red... blue... red... Hold on, that's a light. Blue and red ligh? Blue and red... flashing blue and red... oh don't tell me- "Jonothaniel Blue, you are under arrest!" Damn, I told you not to tell me. I can't fight in this condition. Time to run!

Friends of Wigner

"So who are the Friends of Wigner?"

Our beliefs are not complicated; they're teaching quantum theory to the grade school children, nowadays, so you should know the mechanics we support ourselves with.

Eons ago, a man named Eugene Wigner developed a thought experiment as an extension to Schrödinger's Cat. The experiment goes that a friend of Wigner performs the Schrödinger's Cat experiment after Wigner leaves the laboratory. When he returns, Wigner learns from his friend the results of the experiment.

We believe that arbitrary consciousness does not result in a wave function's collapse. Nor that each collapse spawns a universe in which each possible outcome was the result - that leads to quantum suicide. Nay, we exist in a participatory universe; we are all one large quantum superposition of all possibilities, waiting for our wave function to collapse.

At the end of time, when intelligent life has collected all of the information in the universe, the Ultimate Observer will appear, to collapse our wave function with the Final Observation. All of the quantum probabilities since the beginning of the universe will solidify.

But that's only part of it. The Ultimate Observer will not simply make an observation, no. The Ultimate Observer will choose which world-line will be the truth. As the Friends of Wigner, our goal is to ensure the Ultimate Observer favors humanity in the final decision. And the only way to do that, my friend, is to send information about humanity forward in time. The Ultimate Observer needs information to select which world-line to collapse the universe into, and without knowledge of humanity, there would be no reason to favor us.

"And that's why you want to turn Jupiter into a black hole?"

Not quite a black hole. Just a singularity in space-time developed with precise parameters to inform the Ultimate Observer about humanity. Black holes may be singularities, but this singularity won't be a black hole. At least, not technically.

Think of it this way: We may be losing the largest planet in the Solar System, but we are also saving humanity throughout all of time and space.

Besides, humanity spreads to other star systems within just a few hundred years. What's one gas giant? It's only worth as a planet is sentimental value.

So cheer up. Once we're through here, all of the trials and tribulations of humanity will be of no consequence, since the Ultimate Observe will wipe them all from history for us with the Final Observation.

Journal Entry 01.13.09

I see the milestones dwindling toward the horizon

• I see each day stetching out before me
• I can see new friends waiting for me to arrive

These lines are possible divergences from a line in the poem The Layers by Stanley Kunitz

Topics

6 titles you might want to write about:

1. On Snowstorms & Suburbs
2. On Roleplaying Games
3. On Game Development
4. On Where You Want Your Life to Go
5. On Space
6. Pn Equestrianism

6 titles you don't want to write about:

1. On Girlfriends
2. On Vegetables
3. On

6 titles where "On" is a pun:

1. On Lightbulbs
2. On Vacuums
3. On Computing
4. On Game Consoles *
5. On Air
6. On Route 66

6 titles you don't know anything about:

1. On Skydiving
2. On Medicine
3. On Artistry
4. On Geology
5. On Manufactory
6. On Religion

On Game Consoles: Free Writing

Game consoles have an intersting history in the world of games, as an alternative to the PC or board games. When the first consoles were made, such as the Atari or the Amiga, they were much cheaper than any PC you could buy. So, if you wanted to play video games, they were the obvious choice. Today, consoles such as the Xbox 360, Play Station 3, and Wii are still cheaper than the powerful "gaming rigs" that some players of PC games boast of having.

The console is also more reliable avenue for the developer, with one single hardware configuration to build for. Though a PC may be more powerful than an Xbox, other PCs will be much less so, and PC developers must build for as many PC configurations as feasible.

However, most consoles are very difficult to get permission to build for. The Xbox 360, for example, requires that a developer purchase a $10,000 Xbox Development Kit from Microsoft. Additionally, in order to actially publish a game on a console, the developer must pass their game on an exhaustive list of rules, call the Technical Certification Requirements for Xbox, Technical Requirements Checklist for Play Station, and I don't know what Nintendo call their version of the same, only that they have one.

The other disadvantage of consoles is also their ficed hardware. A PC user can just upgrade bits of hardware as they need, while a console player must buy an entirely new console to play the new games at all - a PC that isn't upgraded can probably still play the game at a lower resolution or framerate.

The Gambler

It was the big day.
The race.
Tort was a fool
to think he could beat Jack.
Jack is the fastest around.

Even so, it was a
race nonetheless.
The broker gave me 10-to-1.
Gambling is in my blood,
but I refused to put
money on Tort.

Tort was a fool’s bet.
Wait, the race is starting.
And Tort is left in
Jack’s dust.
I’ll make money,
for sure.

I wait at the finish
to confirm my victory.
Tort appears on the horizon.
Where is Jack?
He is sleeping.
Overconfidence is the true fool.

Part of my creative writing class this semester requires that I write a journal. I figured I'd like to post my journal entries up here, though I don't know if my professor will accept them in this format. No matter.

This poem was part of my "audition" for the class - 15 minutes to write a poem, 20 minutes to write a short piece of fiction, and a submission of previous work to the professor by Thursday, along with reason for wanting to be in the class. Here's to hping that I get to stay in. The prompt for this poem was to re-imagine a well-known story. For those who haven't yet figured it out, this is the story of the tortoise ("Tort") and the hare ("Jack" Rabbit), as told from the perspective of a gambler betting that the hare will win.