beautiful irony

our hearts remained as one,
together - on the carousel called life;
and when winter blew its frosty song
we knew - to sing along

what's in a beautiful irony?

it's in the spoken silences
in the happy-sadness
in simple complexity
in sweet sorrow
just...
in (:

a world without aeroplanes

some time ago i penned this short composition. it was valentine's day if i may recall correctly, and i struggled to complete for the Commonwealth competition that i obliged to join (against my will though). nevertheless, what came out was quite magical (relatively at least) - i rarely write like that - usually so sparse of ideas. a world without aeroplanes. enjoy (:
(P.S i loved the part on Faith, Hope and Love - haha)

---

Men love to dream, years ago we dreamt of flight. Gripped by the fascinating creatures of the air, tantalized by endless horizons, we sought to conquer what we could not, we sought to take to the sky, to sprout wings and take flight……

…….and, against all odds, we did.

1903, the Wright Brothers saw the culmination of their efforts, the realization of a life-long dream and the justification of all the criticism they had received – the first successful, powered, and piloted flight in history – they had finally done it right. It had been a mere twelve seconds, but with every second The Flyer hung in the air there was an increasing knowledge that the skies had been opened – pried open by the stubborn effort of human hands.

It was not merely the dream of two common men from rustic America; it was the dream of the entire human race; and in that single moment the whole architecture of the world was altered; men unlocked a new dimension, the dimension of flight. Over time, the world was further flattened, traveling times were cut – where we once spoke in months we now spoke in hours – and the pace of life quickened. The birth of the airplane, that cursed miracle, was responsible for this epic change in lifestyle.

Indeed it was a cursed miracle, for with the holidays to hitherto unreachable destinations, the rich cultural exchange made possible, and with the accelerated economic growth that resulted came the new medium of terror – who could forget that fateful day – and an unconscious degradation of our precious environment – surely one cannot remain indifferent to the pollution that our winged beasts have caused –

And Mother Nature, for all her maternal kindness, finally found a way to get even.

------------------

I decided that day, quite contrary to my usual self, to take myself on an early morning stroll. After all, it was always good to spend some time alone, quietly reflecting on the finer things in life. School had taken its toll on me, sapped me of the (supposed) vibrancy of youth – I was but an empty shell now, a victim of that merciless fast-paced society. Dragging myself out of bed, I plunked myself face-first onto the parquet floor –that cooling sensation one feels against his tummy – was tempted to remain a little long, but with much (strange) determination, uprooted myself and headed out of the room.

Outside, the pile of overdue worksheets yelled out at me, post-it notes spoke in accented phrases – you know, in that nagging manner that cannot be easily shrugged off – I tried to shut out the cacophonic noise, to cast it aside, but the only way out was through the front door; that was what morning walks were for anyway, recuperation, much needed recuperation.

Leaving behind the myriad of many competing voices, I proceeded to a quiet spot not too far away from home, a little pathway beside the Changi airport runway. Changi, my dear hometown since I came into being – here I was like a bird in the air, knowing every nook and cranny of the neighborhood like the back of my hand, every coffee shop, every hawker centre (O the best seafood one could find in Singapore!) – located on the east end of the island, built upon reclaimed land, and home to one of the leading airports in the world.

A short while later I found myself arriving at that narrow path; and an air of nostalgia immediately took me by surprise. How long had it been since I last felt this way?

My parents had taken me here when I was just a little child, and as I child I used to gape wide-eyed at the airplanes as they accelerated down the runway, which ran parallel to the path and was separated from the path only by a wire fence; and eventually, with a titanic roar, the airplanes ascended and vanished into the clouds above. I would crane my neck as much as possible, just to catch a last glimpse of the airplane’s tail glimmering in the sunshine, just to keep my sights on the plane for the longest time possible.

That was innocence, that was awe, but it was all part of the past now.

Or perhaps it was still worth a try now, maybe the world could change overnight.
I closed my eyes, and listened in anticipation, waiting for the roar of the plane engines.

Silence; a long silence; a long and painful silence.

------------------

It had been a month since the airplanes disappeared from the runway. Caged up in their hangars, they now had no freedom to fly, no song to sing, they simply lay dead. What had once been a busy and crowded runway was now a deserted stretch of concrete. A month ago it took me by surprise; I thought perhaps it was temporary, just a momentary precaution against the heightened terrorist activity of that period; but no, it was something else, something of greater weight – a lack of petroleum and a dying environment.

Yes, Mother Nature had grown tired of being exploited and neglected. Countless of times she protested, threatening with global warming and bizarre climatic changes, most of the time giving in to men’s stubborn ways. But eventually, even she could put up with it no longer, and men finally had to give in. Men could conquer many things, but men were at the mercy of Mother Nature. Faced with the lack of fuel, the entire international air industry went on a standstill, and Changi airport was no exception.

Right now I could only look on as some birds descended upon the runway, emboldened by the silence, cocking their heads rhythmically as they trod, pacing laterally along the pathway, looking as though they were trying to recover something that had been lost. Turning to face me, our eyes met through the wired fence; Blank stares, and suddenly they took off into the air, leaving as swiftly as they had arrived.

Emptiness again, and emptiness always led to thought…

------------------

Dad had first brought me here when I was a little child, we would place our hands upon the wire fence, gripping the fence tightly as we watched the airplanes fly by. It was a marvelous sight, or so Mum always told me, father and child side by side, simply watching on as the world passed by. I treasured up those timeless moments, gripped them as tightly as I gripped the wire fence, but ultimately, life had to go on. Dad too had to move on.

Eventually, Dad secured a job as a traveling businessman, with decent pay and all, but it came at a priceless sacrifice. Many times he would be away on business trips, abroad in some cosmopolitan city, visiting us occasionally, but departing again as soon as he returned. The airplane gazing sessions never returned – it was just me now, alone, on this side of the fence, watching Dad on the other side as the airplanes carried him away. And the separation grew greater as the years went by.

But suddenly, one day, he finally returned for good; that was the same day I read the news, the same day the air industry went on standstill. Dad returned with a forlorn look on his face, paced along the living room corridor, fast in thought. He spoke not, simply gave me a passing gaze and moved on to his bedroom, where he locked himself away from the world. A great and unsettling gulf hung across his bedroom door. Mum and I could do nothing about it. We simply adjourned to the living room and started praying frantically; perhaps Faith could fix a broken man.

It was a trying period, and often I had wished that the airplanes could return, that Dad could be happy once again – even if it meant more separation. But perhaps, just perhaps, I considered one day, there was a greater purpose in all this. After all, the world without airplanes was one where Dad could finally be back by our side, where our family could at last be reunited; but much had to be done to complete the reunification; Somebody had to break the ice, and one day, having mustered enough courage, I tried to do so.

“Dad, why not we go for a walk?”

“……”

“You know, like old times, the plane-gazing, the little path…”

“……”

“Dad?”

“…there are no planes, son.”

------------------

Men love to dream, years ago we dreamt of flight – but now I only dreamed for our relationship with Dad to recover, that it could take flight once again. In a life-changing moment, the airplanes had disappeared, but in that same moment Mother Nature had graciously granted me a window of opportunity, a blessing in disguise, and I tried, with much effort, to seize it.

There was still Hope, definitely; I managed a smile while still firmly gripping the wire fence, a ray of morning sunshine kissed my cheeks as the sun slowly emerged from its celestial bedroom somewhere beyond the clouds. The serene beauty of the morning sunrise was simply stunning, a delightful array of red and yellow paints swirled before my eyes, never before had I witnessed such a sight; or perhaps, it had always been there, but I had simply left it unnoticed.

And why had I only noticed when the airplanes had disappeared?

Time paused as I continued to stand in awe of the morning skyline, the empty runway now offering a completely unhindered view of its splendor – there they were, the timeless moments of before, finally returning like a rushing wind – except this time, there were no airplanes, no roar of the engines to speak of, there was simply silence, unbroken silence.

And at that moment, I suddenly turned to run; a wave of emotion overcame me as I sprinted toward home. I had to share it, I had to share it with Dad, and I had to let him know of this blessing in disguise. I had been filled, my cup overflowed, and now I simply had to fill someone else in return – Dad needed to be filled. And as I entered through the front door, I rushed straight to his bedroom, unbothered by the trivial ruckus of homework and post-it notes, and knocked passionately on his door.

It was unlocked.

Dad sat gazing out of the window, already looking at the splendid morning sky, his back toward me. But having felt my presence in the room, he finally turned to face me –

- And he smiled.

Rocks in the Pond

It's been a last time since I've last posted - The Thin Red Line sitting completed, crowning the pile of homework that has accumulated on my side shelf - and I remembered commenting on the swiftness with which the explosion came - the physical shock that came ever so suddenly - instantaneously, like stepping over a thin red line.

somehow. the last few days have been a step over that thin red line. and things have changed. lots. more than i could have ever ever imagined. shock? perhaps.

still I always fondly recall that God is by our side, and that He is now and forever, a timeless rock who does not change. the great unchangeable I AM - that one we can cling on to in our storms of life. We have an anchor that keeps the soul, steadfast and sure while the billows roll. (: and I trust you Lord, because I have no idea what you are doing, but I know that you know that it's best for me.

the only resolution i found for confusion this week - was more confusion - sigh.

Orchid hybridization yesterday. but let's not talk about that now. work beckons. oh work work, more work. (service is our top priority :P)

I shall speak in riddles once more. (yes. this is no poetry - it is just useless ramble)

Twirling whirling gyrating (much like last night)
the bees surround their honey
but chance now - they flee some distance (it was in an instant)
unguarded now - I close some distance (not much, not much)
but this some trick of the mind (some distraction)
I wish the bees were still there
to be stung - but taste
or to withdraw and never
i doth wonder which hurts greater.
God guide my paths (this part is no riddle)

And recalling the placement of white rocks, the rearrangement of pebbles to form a loving message to complement the coming REW week - the week where our Saviour gave up everything for us. this is the culmination of lent - may we be filled with thanksgiving always, especially for this week. Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday. remember Him in all our ways.

and with those stones - John Tay came frolicking past, with a fish in hand.

(that was a random way to end)

Thy Word - a LAMP unto my feet

The Greater Sunshine
Tim - on a sunny day

I found one day this sunshine
That would not go away;
Twas Innocence that led me
To bask in its array.

Then chancing on this honey pot
That left itself ajar;
Twas Innocence that led me
To push - albeit too far.

But there's a greater sunshine
Why can't I taste and see?
That there's a Loving Father
Who yearns to care for me.

Then Truth found me one day, at last (Alas!)
I knew not what to say
To part was such sweet sorrow -
But it's Him who leads the way.

...

LAMP, despite it's dull moments, was never short of some enlightening moments - and after LAMP fellowship was always just as worth it - a shocking reminder of the little time left I have with my friends and classmates. Today I lay down with John Tay and lamented (in the usual way we nostalgic, sentimental people do) at the passing of time - such a recurring theme, on this

rather sad blog of mine.

But there's a greater sunshine - we need to experience this greater warmth and greater love - from the one and only God above!

"As My Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love"
"and this is my commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you"

John 15:9, 12

Primer's Vision: keep staying in God's love, keep experiencing it. And once we love him, we answer that question from John 21:15. And we're going to feed Jesus' Lambs!

Sleepover at XL's place was quite a traumatic experience at times - being interrogated whilst squashed by a giant beanbag chair, being tau-poked by my jolly friends while half asleep...I guess it was all enjoyable. :)

Thank You God. and again we rejoice!

Teaser

Unseen hands that fumbled below
Searched - and found that damned curse
Unseen tears that fought so hard
Fought to naught, struggled, distraught

Somewhere in that groping dark
Lies a child, a silhouette quickly disappearing
Forbidden, but his fingers wander in - then his body -
Confused, but passions ensue within

At last - Clothed with ecstasy, moans of intense glee!
Release - finally let loose - a butterfly set free.

But dreams too are fleeting - and he knows
he is no winged beauty.
Endless chasing
Unseen torment
Guilt.

If some day you were to venture
Past his closet doors, sneak a peek
Some fleshless smile would greet
Skeletons - there at your feet.

...

and after all the teasing, I wonder how many of us actually know his past, his painful past fraught with guilt and pains - and I wonder how many of us can truly understand - perhaps there is none - save for a Father I know from above. Those were trying times, and what came out of it was a dark but powerful testimony.

This is by no means an 'emo' post. Recall that Tim is almost always happy. :) no worries there. Just a fleeting thought. And perhaps 'Dead Poet's Society' has inspired me to more poetry - what powerful devices they are - and what rich outlets for unmeasurable emotions!

Meanwhile, despite certain thoughts and confusions, I thank God for His undying faithfulness. Kenneth commented on FireAC attendance rising a little - perhaps - numbers don't matter but, It is really encouraging :)

GAE - oops - edit: JAE tomorrow, perhaps we'll wait first, and write again once the flood of emotion arrives.

Sky Gazing

-=Ten Minute Sky Poem=-
-John Tay/Benlee/Huang Zi/Tim-

Have you ever talked to the sky?
Gazed at the cool blue, watched the clouds go by
Drift to the heavens - thought of your fantasy guy
---
They tease, they play; You sigh and wonder why
If clouds could frolic all day
Then why not I?


-=A Dark Sky=-
-Tim- inspiration by Mr Charles Ng

The time was nigh
Descent of winged beasts
Ferocious, Devouring
On our livelihood they feast

Broken silence -
A sudden flurry
Unbroken darkness -
There was no hurry

No hurry

Leave us we plead
Haste off and go
Abandon us to mourning
But - alas - pharaoh said no.

...

Inside every one of us there is a poem just waiting to burst forth - we just need to unleash it, to unleash our emotions upon the literary world - to compose our thoughts and feelings into packets of poetry - ready to make an impact on other people's lives. Every poem like a compressed package of emotions - tagged as 'dangerous' - but delightful to peer into. Mixed emotions ensue.

And perhaps it's just these sudden attacks of emotions unleashed upon me - and I can't help but channel them into poetry - no matter how monstrous the result.

New line - 93206492 - (or expressed in my mind - )
93 - (first four numbers of an A.P) - 92 (aha! which makes it easy to remember!)

Well well. Math beckons. Memories of time spent (wasted) in the admin room yesterday trying to do work - but at least math was easier with the genius seated beside me.

(cries of 'how ironic!' but I'm ignoring...)

Inter Wing Games - adrenaline rush - water bags in hand - we went off. But I spent most of my time tying water bombs anyway - and ended off with a blistering blister! By virtue of the fact that we started the game slightly earlier and could run faster, we managed to secure all three bases and pretty much won the game from the beginning. It was quite well planned I guess, and everyone had a splendid time just bonding away.

Term 1 Week 10 already - and I'm starting to miss school ): We don't have much of school life left...

The Bin Speaks

the problem being
filled to the brim
you - never knowing
mine, her or him?
you - never seeing
which belongs to
you - never noticing
the clutter building
up to the ceiling
rubbish is blinding -
it's all confusing.

and when it grips you.
it's just too late.


(cries of 'emo' - I hear you - but what can I say?)

everyone needs love, everyone needs compassion, and the kindness of our Saviour. when there's no one to turn to, we turn to Christ. I've been trying, but the intangibility of it is so tough to grapple with. Sometimes I just cry asking God to be more real in my life - I want to touch, I want to hear, I want to see - O how reliant we are on our senses!

I'm confused. But contented with hiding it. Let it be. Perhaps God will help me resolve this.
But till then. I'll try to remain happy. Bins must always be happy.

Soul Stealer

"Can you talk about something else rather than schoolwork?"

And schoolwork drained me - I did go blind.
Recalling the distant days,
(had it been that far behind?)
When hope-filled hearts,
Melted icy corridors;
And passions echoed
Upward - through the IB floors

well. let's pray. and pray like never before.
a quote from Alistair: "Satan laughs at human wisdom...but trembles when we pray"
let's awake our first love.
let's rekindle the first fire.
and let's love Jesus again.

Best Friends

Two hearts on a rickety bus
Met suddenly - chanced upon
One promise within the ruckus
Innocence on an early dawn

Words cannot express fully
This strangeness which I feel
Best friends forever - was it folly?
Or a gem - of timeless value?

Best friends forever? The little quatrain of a sonnet cannot express how I feel. Innocent promise, but of timeless value?

Oh do you still remember the promises we made? Do you still remember how we treasured up each other - how we held on in good times and in pain?

Best friends - just a label?
Best friends - just a burden?
Best friends - just an illusion?
Best friends - just a obligation?

Oh how I still love you - with all my heart. Please stay close by. Let's fulfill our little promise - never forget each other!!

So let's cherish the old songs we sang
And complete what dear Innocence began.