Archive for May, 2007
You Held My Hands
This afternoon, I saw him hold up my hands
He whispered his secret message to me
Every inch of me reached out
I could only crumble before him
And experience a timeless moment no other relationship can offer.
No theatrical production can deliver (cos they are one of the most effective means of reaching into my soul).
Now
All I have to do is to incubate this spoken-promise
And replay the vision is my mind.
I have no clue where he’s leading me to:
Local university (highly unlikely)
Overseas (shrugs)
A dream job opportunity somewhere confidential (until he lands me in it)
We’ll see.
Besides me,
You’ve gotta ask and expect
For his personal message and vision for you.
No one can seize his words for you,
Except you.
Cleaning-out
To shut it with him
Sometimes, we find it so difficult to enter.
We’re spun and tossed around by all kinds of weather the world is in.
We can’t hear
We can’t feel
We can’t see
We forget the peace of home.
We are uncomfortable.
We can’t settle down.
One habit I have everytime I step into home
Is to drop everything
And head straight for a
Thorough hot shower.
Without it, I will be awkward sitting on my bed, or in my sofa.
It just doesn’t seem right to be at ease
Without cleaning me out of the grime and dirt of outdoors.
When I’m fresh and washed-up
It’s so easy to rest.
There’s one way you can do it.
Read his letters to you.
It’s got an amazing cleansing effect.
That’s how you get cleansed and refreshed.
Enjoy.
Whether the weather be fine
Or whether the weather be not
Whether the weather be cold
Or whether the weather be hot
Whether the weather
We’ll weather the weather
Whether we like it or not
Rocking To Hell
Compromising the true standard due to our comfort
Giving in to limp excuses (defined as lies under the skin of deception)
Requiring all circumstances to appease oneself
Stepping back when it’s time to step forward
It’s fat-hope fantasy
Temporary lullaby
That rocks us to hell.
Brrrgh.
Discomfort is sometimes needed to lead us to a new level; a new territory to inherit for ourselves
It prods us to where we are unfamiliar
But we see too much with our naked eyes
We entangle ourselves with the matters of this world
We fail to see what’s the good that’s coming from this temporary-trouble.
I rather face the reality
I rather dare to be visited by death
So I know the meaning of life
It’s better to smell the stench of death
And experience its difference from the fragrance of life
Then to think it normal when I only know the fragrance of life
You want maximum-living?
You want the adrenaline rush?
You want the fireworks bursting within you?
How can you know the difference if everything’s perfect all the time.
When I see death,
I choose to live.
It is an easier, and smarter choice.
Because I know the one
Who is Life himself,
My first breath.
And all I need
To overcome all kinds of deaths.
Commonly Mispronounced
These are a few I’ve been reminded of recently.
Since a kid, I’ve been a stickler for accuracy in word-pronunciation.
How different and beautiful we sound when it’s all read right!
Word Wrong Correct
Lest ‘lee-st’ ‘leh-st’
Salmon ’sell-men’ ’seh-men’
Debt ‘deb-t’ ‘det’ (‘b’ is silent)
Tuition ‘teew-sion’ ‘tu-eee-tion’
Assuredly ‘a-sure-dly’ ‘a-sur-rid-ly’
Baton ‘bay-tern’ ‘beh-ton’
Growing In The Climate Of War
Since start of the morning
Melissa, Jon and Michelle – you have swallowed well; keep it up.
Though one of their hairdos is pretty different from ours
We sang that song with them this afternoon,
“Father, make us one.”
Grin.
I’ve got my dose of bitter pill later in the afternoon.
I admit it did pull that trigger within me for awhile.
I lost one of my jobs because of a ruthless slander.
There is no atom of truth in the statement at all.
I could not justify myself because
Of language barriers.
Ah well, I’ve let it go.
They’ve spilled their milk.
And I have no point crying over it;
Except for quite a sum of monetary loss
But let me count it as a
Temporary loss
And an opportunity for a greater financial breakthrough
What’s so fun about prospering
When we never tasted a few not-so-rich days.
Anyway I’ve gained myself a fat account
At a temporarily forbidden Estate.
Part of them will roll in soon.
And I thank You for it!
A bunch of precious girls
Are facing opposition for what they believe
Please don’t lose heart
We’re standing in the gap for you
And believing with you
Everything is gonna be alright.
If he’s not giving up
If we’re not giving up
Don’t give up.
Don’t be deceived by pressure.
They’re not bad at all sometimes.
It’s only with pressure,
We get into the right temperature.
It’s only with pressure,
Things get cooking.
It’s only with pressure,
We grow up.
Hohoho.
We are hard pressed on every side,
Yet not crushed.
We are perplexed,
But not in despair;
Persecuted,
But not forsaken;
Struck down,
But not destroyed.
Come what may.
You are ours.
And we are yous.
Whom shall we be afraid?
Though people may come against us,
Though war may rise against us,
But of this we will be sure;
That we will bless you forever.
And our end
Is
Victory.
The 39th Hour
Life sparkles with them.
These seven youths are like real life power puffs.
Difference is the Power they know is the greatest in the world.
I am in for an eternal treat to see their potential maximized and destinies unfold
Because Nobody Told Them
It’s heartening to see young people like you speak up.
Your questions have revealed to me the cause of the hurting generation.
You know,
Not everyone grows up in a home-sweet-home
This world’s imperfect and it has its dead-line.
Last days ain’t gonna get better
So it’s not surprising hurt is running rampant in our midst
You, I and the people like us do not need to be afraid
Because we belong to a different race.
But let’s not be so content that
We retreat from where we can do what we can
While the day of expiry is not at hand
Let’s not feel so safe that
We fail to step into the others’ worlds
So that we can shed the light we are given.
People in the dark
Cannot lead themselves
Some has given up on finding the right direction
They don’t want to try anymore
They stay where they are
They do what they’ve been doing
Some has lost hope in finding hope, peace and love
They throw their hearts away
They run amok
They don’t know who to run to
But we do
We have
They don’t have the truth
The way
The life
They only have wounds.
They only have fear.
Hurt doesn’t matter anymore
They need to numb themselves from pain
They carve pain into themselves
For comfort, for assurance
Because since pain is nothing unusual anymore
They want to know pain in a new way
“Pain is normal. Pain is good. Pain is my healing. Pain is the solution.”
They are lost in the fog of blackness
How can they know what is the truth anymore when the air they breathe belongs
To Lie
To Death
Because nobody told them
No one showed the way
They will never know.
Until we dare
To step into their world.
Until we hold their hands
And tell them
The Hope that has been waiting for them.
Hi Val,
I totally agree with you on your blog post on the 14th of May. Our generations “trend” of wrist slitting is dangerously and alarmingly on the incline. But I always ask myself why do people do that? Hurt themselves, don’t they feel pain?
Personally I think its foolish and would never in my sound or unsound mind slit my wrist. I shudder at the thought of the immense pain and blood one would feel cutting him or herself.
I would like to say Amen to the part where you wrote:
Anyway, lets move on to something more cheerful. I would like to thank you for posting all you have so far.
Being a daily “subscriber” to your blog, I thoroughly enjoy reading your view, ideas and stories. You describe the simplest of actions to be so thought-provoking and interesting.
Carry on writing, I’m a sucker for good english
It feeds my soul =X.
Love,
Jerome Caleb
Alas, My Rendezvous With The Web
If I Do What I Say
-
due to wiring-problems, I couldn’t log online (I’m typing away at the jurong west cafe)
-
a panic-attack sent me topsy-turvy moments after waking up
-
the sun was awfully scorching
-
every cell in my body grumbled and nagged for more sleep
-
left-side of my glasses snapped
-
war broke out in my heart whole day
All these, because I obeyed what I said to myself at daybreak.
Nobody’s fault but mine.
If I was so right, why did all these happen?
Culture tells me freedom means
Doing everything I want
Louder than any human era,
In this ‘human-rights’ consumed generation,
Doing what we want seems to be fairest.
But really,
If that’s true, why was the aftermath so horrid?
Freedom is good.
Then its results should be good.
I can only conclude one truth:
Doing what I want is not always best for me.
I don’t trust myself entirely.
I can’t listen to myself all the time.
Eight hours have passed since I woke today,
And every moment has been a bliss.
It’s fun warring with my flesh
Because every attempt is a step towards winning
Hurrying across the road with Karen and the team
Guzzling iced-coffee (it costs only a dollar but tastes better than any Starbucks concoctions)
Dipping seventy cents cupcake into it
Listening to priceless experiences of my lecturer can be so inspirational I feel fireworks bursting in my heart, visions flashing in my mind and motivation running in my blood. There’s so much to do but I can only set out if my body is strong.
I love food, sleep and television.
But above them,
I love stepping out of home
Entering unique worlds of people
And be used for greater purpose.
