Me? A plagiarist?

'was thinking about the issue of plagiarism and was reminded of an issue I faced in the past in one of the sites that I blog in. This experience left a bad taste in my mouth but I gleaned something good out of it -- two pieces of poetry ~~ LOL!

Here is the blog post:

Oops...I did it again...borrowed another photo

On Valentine's Day I borrowed ConeyIsBabe's photo in her blog about Jack, the dog. Today, a day after April Fools' Day, I borrowed another picture from miteehigh's blog Photographic memoriesand wrote a short poem about it that I called, Tunnel.

I hope you guys don't mind me going around "borrowing" your pictures....thanks a lot!

Comments:

miteehigh (the original owner of the photo)

I can't speak for how others feel about your appropriation. But if you will notice my photograph has an attribution in the lower right hand corner of the image. That is there not by mistake.

The polite thing to do would be to ask those of us that produce original work for permission to use our images for your purposes. That is something that you did not do. This process of asking for permission is in keeping with copyright laws (which I take quite seriously).

Your poetry should stand on it's own merits.

My reply:

I apologize.

Yes I did notice the attribution and I am sorry I had it cropped as I superimposed the text.

Please know that with my effort to ask permission is a genuine acknowledgment of your original work.

It won't happen again.

I promise.

I will put this down and maybe redo it the proper way.

Thank you, Miteehigh.

Destiny823:

Since what you have done is illegal, might you consider taking down your blog and reposting it showing only your poem. You clearly know what you are doing. Your poetry is lovely, it can stand alone.

My reply:

Done, Ma'am.

I did right away after I read Miteehigh's comment.

Thank you.

Txlady4u:

I agree with miteehigh in that any original item placed in a blog by another person is theirs and permission should be requested and received before you or anyone else uses it in anyway. If their name appears it is theirs be it a picture a poem or other form of expression.

Lothringia:

I'm very surprised that you are coming under attack for using that photograph when you had already given full credit to its owner.

In the past I have exposed two serial plagiarizers here at this site that regularly presented other peoples' writing as their own and accepted full and wholesome praise that the articles evoked. I got viciously attacked by a great many here for doing so.

Coincidently, both of those word thieves were compatriots of yours.

My reply:

Thank you for acknowledging my effort to give credit to the photograph's owner.

I feel that I know the plagiarizers that you are talking about because they also blog in the same other place I blog in.

Halfjean(that's my SFF handle)

I am saddened by this turn of things because as a "writer" of sorts, I also do not condone plagiarism. Since I started writing poetry, I have never posted anything in my blogs and claimed ownership of anything that was not originally written by me. I used to write poems from whatever inspiration that came to me but lately, I find it more personally rewarding for me to write poems based on a photograph I see/saw/have seen. This is one of those photographs.

Let me say here that I do not have intentions of claiming ownership of something that is not mine. I saw the photo, I liked it, I was inspired to write a poem about it and thought I'd share, like I did with ConeyIsBabe's Jack photograph. I have already acknowledged my mistake in cropping out the attribution -- I apologize sincerely - I just hope that I would be given credit for calling the attention of the original owner of the photograph in my blog- I should have waited for permission first before I posted the poem but I didn't. I'm sorry.

Rest assured I won't "steal" photos again.

ruggedandtenderyho:

It is a great poem.. And I do see your inspiration following or being inspired by pictures at this point of your writing.. It is so good.. I understand things triggering our minds. You are a wonderful writer.. Thank you for sharing as I enjoy reading...

My reply:

Thanks, rugged.I appreciate your and the others' acknowledgment of the poem. It was a sudden burst of inspiration that made me write that and disrespect for the original owner of the photograph is farthest from my mind.

Just sad that some others saw the act as illegal and worthy of reprimand, when I have, in fact, properly acknowledged the owner.

Now I feel my admiration and appreciation for the work of art was misplaced.

Bijou624:

Hi Halfjean: I think you had good intentions about using these two photos as you probably just wanted to acknowledge to Coney and Mitee that their photos inspired you as a writer. They were both very good photos each in their own way. I think that it is perfectly legal to copy any photo we find on the internet, but I'm not sure. I have to admit though that it would give me an eerie feeling to log in here some day and see one of my photos in someone's blog. Nice poem by the way.

My reply:

Thank you!

I, too, am not sure about the legality/illegality of what I did but my conscience is clear that I did not do it to enrich myself/extract money out of it. It was just a simple poem I wrote after receiving inspiration seeing the photo.

ConeyIsBabe:

I was very flattered when Halfjean borrowed my photo and wrote a very cute poem about Jack and his Toys. Clearly, Halfjean only used the photo of Jack for the purpose of enhancing her poem and she credited me as the photographer !

my reply:

Thanks, ConeyIsBabe! Yours was the first photo I ever found on a blogsite that I used for my poem. I was very glad how you so graciously acknowledged.

Most of my stuff I took off google images but many others are from the portfolio of my photographer-nephew.

Tranqfull:

Funny when I reported to SFF abuse that my picture was being used in a vicious obnoxious blog comment and asked it be removed resulting in the blog owner and commenter who posted my picture being banned I was accused of everything including jealousy and called every name in the book.

So its ok for some to copy pictures but not ok for everyone .. oh yeah the old depends on who it is rears its head .

Some of you need to examine your conscience !

My reply:

I can understand how ugly it would feel finding your picture being used in a "vicious, obnoxious blog comment" because it happened to me too in the past -- with ugly reference to the memory of my deceased mother -- But then...I did not use miteehigh's picture in a "vicious, obnoxious" blog post so I really feel bad that my act is being branded as illegal. I may have cropped the attribution out but I wonder if that unintentional act should merit all this "talk" when no one could ever say I did not acknowledge the owner.

Really, it baffles me.

lothringia (again)

Mountain, molehill, conscience, brain, arrogance, stupidity.

Any chance you will be inspired, to write an original poem, by my input on this post ?

My reply:

a mountain created

from out of a molehill;

something unexpected

I am confused, still.

an innocent attempt

to create poetry;

was viewed with contempt

made some people angry.

i didn't delay

i listened to social conscience;

put down the picture

the poem, they say, is the essence

a part of my brain

could never understand;

that part of others' brains

that saw it as illegal, in their parlance

shall I call it arrogance?

protectiveness out of place;

I gave myself solace

if it were me, I'd accept, with grace

was it, on my part,

an act of stupidity?

to use people's online stuff,

to create simple poetry?

I value my work of art

just like anybody;

from now on I will stay away

from the high and the mighty.

Ola2006

I personally feel that as long as recognition is made to the "author" of the material, be it poems, articles, and/or photos, there shouldn't be any big squawk about it. If there was monetary issues involved (royalties), then definitely permission should be granted first.

Too many times I have seen blog articles and photos that have been presented as the bloggers original submission when not, and I don't approve of that.

I feel you are to be commended for your efforts to make right, what you feel may be a wrong. As far as using stuff here that another SFF'er originated, its probably best in the long run to get their permission first. I think most, as ConeyIsBabe said, would be flattered that something of theirs inspired you.

my reply:

Thank you for this. You've said what I wanted to say.

miteehigh (again)

It seems that there is some confusion about use of copyrighted material. It is not enough to appropriate and then give credit to the originator of a work. The appropriation without permission and consideration is illegal in and of itself.

A original work does not need identification of the originator affixed thereto in order to be copyrighted. It does not need to be listed with the regulating agency (in this case the US copyright and trademark office)in order to be copyrighted. Any arbitary and unapproved appropriation is illegal.

ltw222: (quoting the poem I wrote on lothringia's challenge)

Hi Halfjean,

Lovely poem and you have certainly shown us your creativity. By the way, it is my belief that the first poem up there about the stairs is ORIGINAL too. Some might be blinded by their prejudice and failed to recognize that. I, too, like poetry and write a wee bit. I hope you are not too put off by this episode and carry on writing and, if you want to borrow another photo, you can get it from photobucket, a photo sharing site. I had borrowed from there and I always acknowledge the owner. I am a member there but I don't think one needs to be a member to borrow. There are other sites that allow you to borrow photos too as well as some that does not allow you to do so. Once again, I like your, shall I say, spunky poem.

I blogged here once too but am now on a siesta away from here and I think you already know the reason why.

I would be visiting on and off though to read some of my friends' blogs as well as enjoy your poetry.

All the best.

Lee

My reply:

HI, thanks for your comment.

Actually, yesterday after putting down the image of the "stairs" leaving only the text of the poem, I went to google images and true enough, I found a hell lot of similar pictures that I think would elicit the same interest in me to write the same poem had I seen them before. I wish I had, so this wouldn't have happened.

I keep my poetry in some other place (what I post in other places eventually get to one other place I consider my archives.

You can search for: Chronicler on the Loose in case I stop posting here

Nice meeting you.

the wisdom of the elf

"I am zen,
listen to me y'all,
I am not just another
brick on the wall"

"at peace with the world
at peace with myself"
" but who are you kidding?"
said the voice of an elf

"i see zen stones
in japanese gardens
calm and serene
tensed nerves, they soften"

"stones clean and smooth
one on top of another
with a small network
of ripples on the water"

"this zen stone arrangement
as rough as it can be
anchored on two slabs
that both look wobbly"

"a balancing act
of the stones by the beach
when here comes a big wave
won't these stones get leached?"

"no they are not ripples
that i see on the water,
but rough little waves
'hope not a tsunami starter"

"i acknowledge your wisdom
Wise little old Elf
what do you suggest I do
off the cliff, throw myself?"

"No, not at all,
dear stony creature
do not yet end
your promising future"

"polish yourself
let the water cleanse you
gain foothold and be strong
find your niche beneath you"

"you'll never reach perfection
that much is expected
but you'll be an inspiration
to the once weak, now strengthened"

Delilah's Jewels: A Memento for Khel

a repost from May 30, 2010

I woke up to the sad news of my employer's passing. I always start my day with checking emails and this morning, I received an email from her husband telling me of the sad news. His words: "Jean, Khel passed last night..." I trembled and cried...
My employers are husband and wife Jerry and Khel from Utah. I started working for them as a virtual assistant in October 2009 and we do the office thing online --many, many miles away from each other. We have very good working relationship and they are the best online employers I have ever had so far. Khel and I hit it off well from the start. But the fast-paced, good working relationship I was enjoying with them quickly had to slow down when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. The work we were doing together had to be set aside some as they got busy trying to find the right natural way to cure her illness. They travelled out of state often to visit doctors and from the audio journal she kept that she asked me to transcribe for her, I could sense how stressed she was. Bothered, worried, stressed, sometimes frustrated -- i sensed all of it in her recordings and my heart went out to her.
On Mother's Day, I sent her my poem "The Dream", which I wrote for my mother --which I regretted doing but it was too late to take the email back -- that poem spoke of what I remember about my mom who passed away when I was three years old. Khel has a son around that age too and I realized too late that it would give a very sad thought to her. I quickly sent her a follow -up email and told her that I just wanted to send her the sentiment of loving a Mother. She emailed back and very graciously thanked me for sharing. She did feel sad about "losing the mother at an early age" -- but she was in touch with reality and fought her battle with cancer openly and bravely.

Khel is an artist. One of her works of art is a big figurine she calls "Delilah" where she had embedded trinkets and glued them in place on the figurine's body. The result was awesome. When I visited her website, I saw pictures of the trinkets before they were attached to the figurine. Three pictures of different trinkets on the table and I was inspired to write a poem (as I usually do get inspired at the sight of a nice picture).

Here is that poem.
I am glad I wrote this poem and it will always serve as a memento of my friendship with my boss, Khel. Her sufferings are over. May she rest in peace.



Delilah's Jewels


keys, coins, pieces of brass
pendants, chains, that shine like glass

belt buckle and brooch, a lopsided earring
a thimble it is, not a tiny bell ringing

a Christmas tree beside a symbol of infinity
odd shapes and sizes, trinkets blinking at me.

i see a letter J, and a padlock do you see?
pray tell, where to find the lock's matching key?

flowers and leaves, no they are not green
because they are coated with a metallic sheen

a bolt, where's the nut?, an upholstery tack
is that a wagon, maybe there's a grass shack?

hoops and buttons and an artist's brush
i bet the brush would make the hound dog blush

go fish

the artist's hand

my American dream

eversince my childhood
I have known Uncle Sam
he's from the RICH western country
that isn't so warm
'thought then that there,
everywhere there was snow
and that the United States was
the only country where apples grow




as a child I was told
it's the land of milk and honey
where jobs are nice
that give people lots of money
the people are lovely,
with golden heads of hair
believe me when I see one,
I can't help but stare


blue eyes, I tell you,
they look like blue crystal
their skin, white and creamy,
just like alabaster
the men are handsome,
dashing debonaires, so tall
the women are pretty,
as pretty as a doll




they speak the king's language,
they speak with authority
they sing with the same voice,
so lovely and pretty
my young heart was smitten,
I said, "one day, I will be...
among these lovely people
when I cross the big sea"


but my dream died an early death,
it was nipped at the bud
the given name I was christened with,
registered wrong, that was sad
someone said my misspelled name,
won't get me a passport, too bad
my young mind believed,
instantly killed the American dream I had.


years went by so quickly,
my American dream was replaced
in my own country,
I'll create my niche and rightful place
I stopped dreaming the dream,
for it, I had no time and space
'started feeling patriotic,
an American dream is a disgrace.


little did I know that
later in life things will change
human life, as we all know,
sometimes takes a turn that's strange
ahhh mid-life crisis
my life changed its course
a life-changing event,
turned out to be a blessing, not a curse


My American dream is back,
but not so much for the money
neither for the opportunity
to live in a snowy country
a brave shot at happiness,
with the love of my life
A tall order I know,
but without hope, what is life?

the seed...after three years...

yeahh..LOVE GROWS!

tic tac toe

LIFE IS like a game of tic-tac-toe
choose your lot, be an X, or be an O
the object of the game, of course you know
score a straight line, make it so!


be sharp, be wary, look for that opening
the opportunities are not always showing
but look closely, there is always something
vertical, diagonal, go for that win!


when life has given you two O's or two X's
it is up to you to do the hard presses
Don't wait too long, the opponent also wishes
if you are not quick, your two X's will become misses.

Blue Magic

walk with me this path
under the moonless sky

a calm and peaceful night
shall come and pass us by

listen to the water rippling
on the left, and on the right

straight ahead just keep on walking
till the bright lights are out of sight

the blue light, it beckons
hypnotic, like in a trance

when we get there we will reckon
peace and quiet from a distance

the soft light feels like magic
a halo... Buddhist... Tantric...

the soft glow, now I see
the blue aura of royalty

the high and the mighty

this poem was created in reaction to a photographer's seeming distaste for my "borrowing" one of his photos from his collection-- I wrote the poem, used the photo, posted in my blog and wrote a comment in his to let him know I borrowed it . He was apparently displeased. The owner's handle in that site is miteehigh -- thus I titled this poem, the high and the mighty


a mountain created
from out of a molehill;
something unexpected
I am confused, still.

an innocent attempt
to create poetry;
was viewed with contempt
made some people angry.

i didn't delay
i listened to social conscience;
put down the picture
the poem, they say, is the essence

a part of my brain
could never understand;
that part of others' brains
that saw it as illegal, in their parlance

shall I call it arrogance?
protectiveness out of place;
I gave myself solace
if it were me, I'd accept, with grace

was it, on my part,
an act of stupidity?
to use people's online stuff,
to create simple poetry?

I value my work of art
just like anybody;
from now on I will stay away
from the high and the mighty.

destiny

don't promise me tomorrow
if you cannot be here today
don't add to my sorrow
please don't go astray

i don't want any promises
i want a heart that's true
i don't want hugs and kisses
if half-hearted, they just make me blue

my luck, i will not force
my fate, I cannot choose
my destiny won't change its course
so be it , I will not push.

wavering faith...

there's a God that sees

all things far and wide

the priest said we are His

so we all must go, abide.

we are His, 'grew up on that

He'll not forsake or leave you flat

He'll take care of everything

Just believe and put your faith in Him

Belief, how do you measure?

Have Faith, that's your treasure

Is it enough that you do good?

Is that a ticket for endless food?

They say, "be happy when times are bad

It's when God loves you most, be glad

The tests and trials can't be all bad"

Although right now, they make me sad...

the little girl in me

the little girl in me
never grew up at all
i still dream of a doll house
complete with furnishings and all

i like them with all the trimmings
from the floor up to the ceiling
drapes and curtains and appliances
and other electrical devices

as a girl, 'never had my own bedroom
growing up, there wasn't much change
create my own corner, there was no room
in my dreams, was all I can manage

these days, pictures I see on the net
give me the happiness I can get
someday, before my time is up, i can see
someone will make the little girl in me, happy

my white-haired angel

-------my white-haired angel-----------feb06

Today a white-haired angel passed me by
and asked, "my fair lady, why did you cry?"
"A butterfly bit me", I told him a lie
"Butterflies don't bite!", "that, I wouldn't buy"

So I said, "Okay, listen to my story.
Then answer my questions, though they may sound gory"
He listened intently, albeit so patiently
Then scolded me briefly and said "I'm sorry"

I asked, "You're sorry?" with a little puzzled look
"You've made a mess of your life, look how many years it took"
I said "that's alright, now what really matters,
is that I have fled and escaped, soon nothing can bother".

"Don't rest on your laurels, it is too soon to tell,
that you have escaped unscathed, watch out for the bell!"
"Is there peace in your heart now, is everything well?
Until that happens, then the flowers, you can smell"

My dear white -haired angel, I know your name is WOLFIE
Weathered by experience, pain tears and glory
This childlike heart of mine, will forever hold you dearly"
In your heart of hearts, please, oh please, always keep Jeanie.

Let Go

a dear friend was hurt at work today

the boss gave her the "sack",

it seems he's unhappy the way she works

and said comments behind her back.

she had known about it from a friend,

and was getting worried for weeks now,

she wished he'd stop his bickering,

and instead talk to her, tell her how.

it went unnoticed, so it seemed,

her lapses, she thought, weren't so bad,

days passed without them arguing,

she thought "it's now okay, I'm glad".

so when today he called her in,

to his office she nervously went,

his face looked grim with teeth gritted in,

"after this," in her mind, "I'll be spent".

Indeed, he wasn't at all happy,

and right away told her so,

he used ugly words -- the kind that hurt,

why he had to, she didn't know.

the words did hurt, said without tact,

she burst and her heart sank,

the hearsays he did not retract,

when he confirmed it, her mind went blank.

there wasn't anything left to do,

but cry and run away ,

he wasn't forgiving --that she knew,

she decided to leave from today.

so many pains caused by unforgiveness,

could have been avoided if we try,

no one is worth more, as no one is worth less,

we are all equal, that's why.

my friend's heart is in sorrow I'm sure,

so sad...........made mad....... i know,

for all of these , there is a cure,

forgive........... forget............... let go.

from my camera's eye

blue worm?
green worm?
neon worms....

simple lights

blue
green

in the floor

green jade
and
blue sapphire

from my camera's eye:
elongate
when I am in motion

rotund
when i stare straight down


awesome trick

took away my boredom

for a while......

The Dream

Many years ago I had a dream,

it was vague as what most dreams are,

in it I was floating in a stream,

in a small boat sailing afar.

the water was quiet, very calm, very still,

All I could see were gentle ripples,

The sun was high up like a big burning wheel,

Searing hot, I felt there was triple.

On the riverbank stood a little girl crying,

I was looking at her with a sigh,

I cannot deny, I know there is nothing,

I can do to hush her cries.

As the boat sailed farther in my dreams it was clear,

the little girl was no longer there,

When I tried to look a little bit harder,

I found out, who stood there, was my mother.

As dreams are unusual the next scene I saw,

was my mother in her white wedding dress,

but as I got closer, behold and lo!

she's in a hospital gown feeling distressed!

As the scene changed in the blink of an eye,

I was not anymore in the river,

Instead I was there as a 3 year old girl,

On a tiptoe, beside the bed of my mother.

A baby in a crib , laying calm and still,

caught my attention and made me wonder,

in a brief little second it was already clear,

he was my dearest newborn brother.

and then in an instant, the scenes flashed quickly,

one by one, they changed before my eyes,

she, my mother was in pain, undoubtedly,

and my father was hushing her cries.

then there were bright lights and there was a bier,

What I saw I could never forget,

She laid calmly and coldly right there in the center,

Flowers all around, everyone wept.

For so many years I dreamed the same dream,

but never quite understood what it meant,

now that I am older and added more years,

I think the message is now clearly sent.

As a three year old girl I could hardly remember,

as much as I would have wanted to,

These scenes were just all I could put together,

in reality, in dreams, through and through.

These are all but the memories I have of my mother,

Though I try to recall more, I fail,

All other things simply fade beyond wonder,

Couldn't do more, even if I cry and wail.

Until these days, this dream still comes by,

I have memorized it by heart,

Dear Mother I blow a kiss and a smile,
Forever you'll be here, though apart.

Tears are Gems

Today I sat and pondered
about things I did and still do.
I thought about life and dreams
and wondered why I'm blue.

I came to know a simple truth
that's been there all along.
I learned that life is all about
being hopeful and being strong.

The hope you have inside your heart
will carry you through life.
The strength and will of body and mind
will counter all the strife.

At times I feel blue and I cry
and think all hope is gone.
But then I look again and find
that tears are gems that shine.

let go and let yourself a good cry
it washes over your soul,
when grief is gone and tears run dry
you're again ready for the goal.

Will I sit again and ponder
about life and what makes it blue?
Perhaps I will and now I know
it's a phase we all go through.

undoing the dreams

what's the use of dreaming

when you know they can't come true

will it change the way the world's spinning

when you're sad and feeling blue

what's the use of looking

when you know there's no one there to find?

you've found, you've lost, it's all the same

even worse than "out of sight, out of mind"

what's the use of crying

over relationships what won't be real?

they start virtual, they end virtual

somehow i know things are not on even keel

what's the use of dreaming

of a life shared with a beau?

not yet ready, may never be

all the dreams, to the wind, I throw....

aling dionisia, kumusta ka?

The lady is having fun.
Let her.

Love her or hate her.
Amused? Annoyed?
Whatever.

She's a welcome respite
from the Hayden-Halili craze.
Twit*er, Fezbook, Frndstr,
she's all over the place!

a debutante at 60
she'll dance till 90
a diamond-studded R*olex
does it make her complex?

'gotta love the boxer
'gotta love his mother
what about the father?
I don't know, ask her!