As the sky now pours
So wish I to do too.
Instead, I punish my umbrella's
Arm and disturb the
Silence of the chapel.
Its darkness is the only
Embrace I feel.
So wish I do too
As the sky now does.
Uncle T
16 May 2009
It's Here. 9:17 pm
Sweaty palms.
Trembling fingers.
Quickened breathing.
Random flipping of notes.
Fiddling with keys on the keyboard.
It's here.
Tries to take a walk outside in the rain.
Cold wind blows but it refreshes.
Baby rabbits eating grass.
Cold feet in slippers.
A prayer.
It's here.
Uncle T
Trembling fingers.
Quickened breathing.
Random flipping of notes.
Fiddling with keys on the keyboard.
It's here.
Tries to take a walk outside in the rain.
Cold wind blows but it refreshes.
Baby rabbits eating grass.
Cold feet in slippers.
A prayer.
It's here.
Uncle T
14 May 2009
kenna comprain 5:06 pm
SOMEONE complained my blog post always too deep. Too deep got wrong meh?
Uncle T
Uncle T
An Examination Prayer 5:04 pm
Come Holy Spirit,
Replace any tension within me with the peace that only you can give.
Replace any disturbance within me with a sacred calm.
Replace any fear or anxiety within me with a quiet confidence.
Replace any darkness within me with your gentle light.
Replace any cold within me with your loving warmth.
Replace any emptiness within me with a sense of purpose.
Grant me a calm, clear focused mind; a keen memory with a sharp attention to detail; and the fighting spirit of a true Lasallian.
Dull the edge of my pride.
Sharpen the edge of my humility.
If I should go astray, bring me back to the right path.
May I truly believe that your grace is enough for me.
Amen
Uncle T
Replace any tension within me with the peace that only you can give.
Replace any disturbance within me with a sacred calm.
Replace any fear or anxiety within me with a quiet confidence.
Replace any darkness within me with your gentle light.
Replace any cold within me with your loving warmth.
Replace any emptiness within me with a sense of purpose.
Grant me a calm, clear focused mind; a keen memory with a sharp attention to detail; and the fighting spirit of a true Lasallian.
Dull the edge of my pride.
Sharpen the edge of my humility.
If I should go astray, bring me back to the right path.
May I truly believe that your grace is enough for me.
Amen
Uncle T
13 May 2009
What I will miss: Singaporean in London. 6:09 pm
A friend just recently moved into London. I asked how was things settling into the new city and new job. She spoke of the Lush store (a cosmetics shop), jazz outdoors, tea.
Possibly, that is what I will miss about London. Not the Lush store, but rather the possibilities that London provides. Sometimes seemingly boundless. The free gay cabarets, the nostalgic walks through Borough Market on a Saturday, the close-by gun crimes of Elephant and Castle, the magical musicals that take me back to childhood, the random discussion with street buskers...Boundless. That is what I'll miss; the boundless possibilities.
What I'm implicitly implying is that these possibilities will vanish once I move home come July. But how true is that? To be fair, I have to prevent myself from being overly-romantic about London; there are a huge number of times the city frustrates. Inefficient transport, drunk drunks, smelly streets...Besides, very often possibilities are for oneself to carve out. I honestly believe Singapore will provide me new opportunities to discover new "possibilties". Cynical as I may be, having equally cynical friends does not help, I honestly believe it.
But that does not mean I will not miss the Londonesque possibilities; where I first bought my film SLR, wondering the streets of London, chatting with an oil trader in a cafe...
I guess London will be London, and Singapore will be Singapore. Each has its own potential for possibilities; a Londoner in Singapore may be equally nostalgic as this Singaporean in London.
Just maybe.
Uncle T
Possibly, that is what I will miss about London. Not the Lush store, but rather the possibilities that London provides. Sometimes seemingly boundless. The free gay cabarets, the nostalgic walks through Borough Market on a Saturday, the close-by gun crimes of Elephant and Castle, the magical musicals that take me back to childhood, the random discussion with street buskers...Boundless. That is what I'll miss; the boundless possibilities.
What I'm implicitly implying is that these possibilities will vanish once I move home come July. But how true is that? To be fair, I have to prevent myself from being overly-romantic about London; there are a huge number of times the city frustrates. Inefficient transport, drunk drunks, smelly streets...Besides, very often possibilities are for oneself to carve out. I honestly believe Singapore will provide me new opportunities to discover new "possibilties". Cynical as I may be, having equally cynical friends does not help, I honestly believe it.
But that does not mean I will not miss the Londonesque possibilities; where I first bought my film SLR, wondering the streets of London, chatting with an oil trader in a cafe...
I guess London will be London, and Singapore will be Singapore. Each has its own potential for possibilities; a Londoner in Singapore may be equally nostalgic as this Singaporean in London.
Just maybe.
Uncle T
12 May 2009
At the harbinger of change: Alamak, why only now! 4:07 pm
hope at cryfield | cryfield, uni of warwickIt is only now, just as I'm about to graduate, that I wished I wrote more academic articles, delved deeper into the academic issues, debated more with my prof, explored theology deeper, participated more in student government, sky-dived... the list can go on.
However, what initates the "Alamak" apostrophe is not only just leaving all this what-ifs behind, but not going to have another shot at such things again. That is what is scary. About change, about growing up. The fear of being stuck in the rut of daily monotony.
Will there be coffee-table debates? Not those that are of a personal-attack nature, but those that intellect-equals used to sparr in cafes of Paris and London. Will there be my contemplation of moral issues? Those that we often take for granted and deem "irrelevant" to think about. Will there be people around to remind me to continue to dream? Just being a student gives you license to dream; I'm not sure its the same faced with adult-responsibilities.
This fear is sometimes so choking. I don't know if you ever feel it. But its probably the same choking feeling I felt a long time back standing at the start line of a running relay, baton in hand. What if I drop the baton? What if I trip over my own feet (which happened mind you)?
A friend, who has started work since university, said the one thing she missed alot was just chatting with friends heart-to-heart for "no good reason". I wonder if that will be my fate as well, where everything has to be done for "some good reason". Are we no longer allowed to throw caution to the wind when we are adults? Can it no longer be like the 60s? Please say it is still possible.
If at some point in my life, possibly at yet another harbinger of change, will I be alone if I chose to pick everything up and head off in the direction of my destiny? Will I be alone? Or will there be that special someone there willing and daring enough to do the same?
I don't know. Do you? I'll wait and see. But that's what we are so good at doing. Waiting. For what?
Uncle T
10 May 2009
"Composed Upon Westminster Bridge" 10:09 pm
Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth like a garment wear
The beauty of the morning: silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky,
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
- William Wordsworth
Uncle T
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth like a garment wear
The beauty of the morning: silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky,
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!
- William Wordsworth
Uncle T
A Poetic Everyday 10:08 pm
I was watching a BBC documentary on Wordsworth that inspired my thought on this. The programme specifically featured the poem “Composed upon Westminster Bridge”, poem that is atypical to Wordsworth’s glorious poems on nature; this was about London from Westminster Bridge.
This inspired me to think of 2 things.
First, about writing in sonnets. Having travelled to France to find his long-lost mistress and daughter out of wedlock, Wordsworth took strolls along the French coast with the two ladies and his sister Dorothy. Typical of Wordsworth, he enjoyed composing whilst walking on uninterrupted space, like in the fields and hills of his hometown Lake District. Here, whilst walking along the expansive French beach, along with Dorothy constantly reading Milton’s sonnets to him, he was inspired to be a good sonnet writer.
What draws me to sonnets is that in a short 14 lines, the poem seeks to capture so much. And the beauty of the word is truly manifested through his intense expression of emotion and opinion. Also, as brought up by the documentary, the easy rhythms and brevity of 14 lines allows one to capture the entire sonnet in one’s head, replaying it at will.
Secondly, the documentary reminded me of something I have always been fond of, that of the poetic everyday-life we lead. Some deem repetitive daily routines as monotonous, and I fully sympathise. But if we so much as stop complaining and admire the aspects of daily routines we take for granted, perhaps its poetry will flow. Same faces, same places, no longer that ‘same’ if we hear the poetry of everyday.
As such, based on these 2 things, I am hoping to do something when I get back to Singapore. I intend to pay more attention to the places, activities and people I meet everyday. Especially having travelled extensively in the past 3 years, going back to the place of my childhood could be a poetic canvas upon which I can use; to write lyrics, compose music, write poetry, paint pictures…or just even enjoy in the privacy of my reflections.
Finally, the documentary made me reminisce about those 2 months that I was resident in London, in Summer 2008. I lived, worked, played and sang there. Crossing London Bridge daily to work at RBS. I think the enigmatic beauty Wordsworth writes of in his poem becomes all the more relevant, where I found beauty in the filth, greyness and urban-scape of London.
Uncle T
This inspired me to think of 2 things.
First, about writing in sonnets. Having travelled to France to find his long-lost mistress and daughter out of wedlock, Wordsworth took strolls along the French coast with the two ladies and his sister Dorothy. Typical of Wordsworth, he enjoyed composing whilst walking on uninterrupted space, like in the fields and hills of his hometown Lake District. Here, whilst walking along the expansive French beach, along with Dorothy constantly reading Milton’s sonnets to him, he was inspired to be a good sonnet writer.
What draws me to sonnets is that in a short 14 lines, the poem seeks to capture so much. And the beauty of the word is truly manifested through his intense expression of emotion and opinion. Also, as brought up by the documentary, the easy rhythms and brevity of 14 lines allows one to capture the entire sonnet in one’s head, replaying it at will.
Secondly, the documentary reminded me of something I have always been fond of, that of the poetic everyday-life we lead. Some deem repetitive daily routines as monotonous, and I fully sympathise. But if we so much as stop complaining and admire the aspects of daily routines we take for granted, perhaps its poetry will flow. Same faces, same places, no longer that ‘same’ if we hear the poetry of everyday.
As such, based on these 2 things, I am hoping to do something when I get back to Singapore. I intend to pay more attention to the places, activities and people I meet everyday. Especially having travelled extensively in the past 3 years, going back to the place of my childhood could be a poetic canvas upon which I can use; to write lyrics, compose music, write poetry, paint pictures…or just even enjoy in the privacy of my reflections.
Finally, the documentary made me reminisce about those 2 months that I was resident in London, in Summer 2008. I lived, worked, played and sang there. Crossing London Bridge daily to work at RBS. I think the enigmatic beauty Wordsworth writes of in his poem becomes all the more relevant, where I found beauty in the filth, greyness and urban-scape of London.
Uncle T