Stood amidst a swaying crowd
Could it be, but did they sing:
Songs of love, hiding hate
Spoke of truth... your life and faith
It pains to know I'm alone
Yet strangely brings some peace I crave
Sorrow embraces me up from my feet below
As I persist in crafting my grave
Deeper and deeper, I helplessly sink
Into endless chains I was called to break
Hear my infinite scream through thunder and rain
As the crowd tells me who I was again
My fists, now ravaged by hatred and rage
I think of all those times I prayed
'Shield me from the harm and pain...'
... That'd come from tonight's free-fall into dismay.
What have I become -
O man of little faith?
Or what will I eventually be
As truly, now - I find it hard to believe
Is this all a fault of mine
Or does it perhaps fulfill Your will and plan
This world speaks painfully predictably,
Among signs I find hard to comprehend
But, sing to me Your angels' songs
Of Your love and truth, my hope and faith
Restore in me the peace I knew
Would come home again, some day.
I will sing and I will dance again
Yet in Your presence I would be still
Salvation true, from me from my iniquity
... I find I'm divinely tranquil.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
The Misadventures of Little Bobby (#1)
Warm sunlight danced playfully on his face, revealing cracks and marks in his skin that come as one loses youth.
Gingerly opening his eyes, light poured in - As he took in his surroundings. It was as if he was standing in a sea of blue linen. And still, in the corner of his eye were massive white rock formations of some sort...
It hit him like a train. Bob then saw that he was standing on his bed!
"But how?!" He exclaimed. He must have been a hundred times smaller, reduced to the size of a little ant. Quickly reaching to his arm, he pinched himself viciously - Only realising that sort of gimmick never works, even in the cartoons. Oh, but this was serious. Bob ran a good distance to the edge of the bed, where he peered down. The old and gloomy parquet flooring seemed to be miles below where he stood.
Bob fell down on his bed (which seemed the size of a football field) and put his hands to his head.
"Oh, what am I to do...?" He quizzed in despair.
He had woken up next to nothing earlier. His girlfriend had vanished from within his embrace, and she was still nowhere in sight. As Bob got to his knees, he suddenly noticed a familiar, glittering sparkle coming from the edge of the old mahogany bed-side table...
Bob managed to scale the bed-side table from leaping off the pillow closest to it. As he scrambled to his knees he immediately recognised the little silver trinket.
"This is Natalie's." He thought.
As if it were on some magical cue, a bright light began shining through a tiny crack in the bottom of the bedroom door.
"But that would mean getting down there..." Bob thought aloud.
He pondered for a bit, and glancing to his right - He noticed his trusty box of tissues (albeit now massive) in reach. Grinning silly, he had hatched a plan.
Grasping each end of the tissue with his hands, Bob sprinted and leapt off the edge of the bed-side table and crossing his fingers, hoped for the best.
Now say he didn't die from a gliding accident in his home, Bob would try to rescue Natalie, wherever she was... He would find out what was going on around here...
...And he would fix it!
Gingerly opening his eyes, light poured in - As he took in his surroundings. It was as if he was standing in a sea of blue linen. And still, in the corner of his eye were massive white rock formations of some sort...
It hit him like a train. Bob then saw that he was standing on his bed!
"But how?!" He exclaimed. He must have been a hundred times smaller, reduced to the size of a little ant. Quickly reaching to his arm, he pinched himself viciously - Only realising that sort of gimmick never works, even in the cartoons. Oh, but this was serious. Bob ran a good distance to the edge of the bed, where he peered down. The old and gloomy parquet flooring seemed to be miles below where he stood.
Bob fell down on his bed (which seemed the size of a football field) and put his hands to his head.
"Oh, what am I to do...?" He quizzed in despair.
He had woken up next to nothing earlier. His girlfriend had vanished from within his embrace, and she was still nowhere in sight. As Bob got to his knees, he suddenly noticed a familiar, glittering sparkle coming from the edge of the old mahogany bed-side table...
Bob managed to scale the bed-side table from leaping off the pillow closest to it. As he scrambled to his knees he immediately recognised the little silver trinket.
"This is Natalie's." He thought.
As if it were on some magical cue, a bright light began shining through a tiny crack in the bottom of the bedroom door.
"But that would mean getting down there..." Bob thought aloud.
He pondered for a bit, and glancing to his right - He noticed his trusty box of tissues (albeit now massive) in reach. Grinning silly, he had hatched a plan.
Grasping each end of the tissue with his hands, Bob sprinted and leapt off the edge of the bed-side table and crossing his fingers, hoped for the best.
Now say he didn't die from a gliding accident in his home, Bob would try to rescue Natalie, wherever she was... He would find out what was going on around here...
...And he would fix it!
Antidote (29.01.09)
I am alone.
In the silence of tragedy and betrayal,
Within it, I have made my home
A humble abode... akin to my grave - Yes, my grave.
Voices of regret, sounding out
They call loudly to me, pulling me deeper in
Now knee-deep in guilt, and waist-high in sin
I weep for my soul, only to fall again.
Trapped in a macabre dream, I seek to get out
I've murdered, I have fallen, and only realise I regret now
Wishing the chips had fallen well
As you and I finally fell into love
Now too late for one last kiss
I'm drawn deeper into your absence...
Time is a crawl for a final goodbye
As we find ourselves torn, by searing light
I cry out loudly, but no one can hear me
You know not of the battles I will fight
Against the white-noise of haunting screams
Lies a portrait of my solitary nights
Always wishing, never receiving
Taunted by the Ones who roam the dark
Yet hope is near, always believing
In my rain-soaked blitz to the Ark.
In the silence of tragedy and betrayal,
Within it, I have made my home
A humble abode... akin to my grave - Yes, my grave.
Voices of regret, sounding out
They call loudly to me, pulling me deeper in
Now knee-deep in guilt, and waist-high in sin
I weep for my soul, only to fall again.
Trapped in a macabre dream, I seek to get out
I've murdered, I have fallen, and only realise I regret now
Wishing the chips had fallen well
As you and I finally fell into love
Now too late for one last kiss
I'm drawn deeper into your absence...
Time is a crawl for a final goodbye
As we find ourselves torn, by searing light
I cry out loudly, but no one can hear me
You know not of the battles I will fight
Against the white-noise of haunting screams
Lies a portrait of my solitary nights
Always wishing, never receiving
Taunted by the Ones who roam the dark
Yet hope is near, always believing
In my rain-soaked blitz to the Ark.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Futility in Composure (25.01.09)
Fancy lines from a brilliant mind,
All put down in words.
A sentence here to tell a story,
Some dots to pause it first...
Now emotions run high, and like a fever subside
For darkness will soon take its toll
On lines with atmosphere, fear and despair
Will the melancholic shade be known.
She tells a story of love and hate,
In anguish she bears her soul -
Of a love now lost, and a heart gone cold
... Will anyone know her woes?
All put down in words.
A sentence here to tell a story,
Some dots to pause it first...
Now emotions run high, and like a fever subside
For darkness will soon take its toll
On lines with atmosphere, fear and despair
Will the melancholic shade be known.
She tells a story of love and hate,
In anguish she bears her soul -
Of a love now lost, and a heart gone cold
... Will anyone know her woes?
Friday, January 16, 2009
NightInGale (16.01.09)
Walking back, amidst the breeze
Did ever such love and sorrow meet?
In cold dark alleys, forsaken streets
Her images bring forgotten peace.
Time slows down as he turns to look,
Down corners dark, where they once stood...
They held each other in infinite dark
Wondering if time itself, would come to a stop.
There, they held fast to what they loved
Having since learnt from mistakes past
Two futures unknown, they had only 'now'
To answer their questions, on what love is about
In the absence of light, he'd find his hope
Her silhoutte's love would burn the cold
At least for awhile, he'd feel alive again...
Before returning to whence he came.
Did ever such love and sorrow meet?
In cold dark alleys, forsaken streets
Her images bring forgotten peace.
Time slows down as he turns to look,
Down corners dark, where they once stood...
They held each other in infinite dark
Wondering if time itself, would come to a stop.
There, they held fast to what they loved
Having since learnt from mistakes past
Two futures unknown, they had only 'now'
To answer their questions, on what love is about
In the absence of light, he'd find his hope
Her silhoutte's love would burn the cold
At least for awhile, he'd feel alive again...
Before returning to whence he came.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Puberty (10.01.09)
"PUBERTY" - Written for the people who made fun of me, despite my impressive girth and bass-filled, shmexy voice.
I thought I was about to die,
When my limbs grew painfully longer.
I remember grinning like a young boy-king
As my height defied "shorter".
I can never truly believe,
That I won't always stay this way -
When all of my life feels this free
And this piece of paper reads: "Stage 3."
I won't always flash my smile,
As my hormones begin to jump around
In my playground of elusive mood-swings
My person will be eventually found.
And when I'm all built up, as strong as a tree
Facing life - no longer on my knees,
I will turn my head and look behind
The hardest journey past, but - It's forever mine...
... I finished puberty!
I thought I was about to die,
When my limbs grew painfully longer.
I remember grinning like a young boy-king
As my height defied "shorter".
I can never truly believe,
That I won't always stay this way -
When all of my life feels this free
And this piece of paper reads: "Stage 3."
I won't always flash my smile,
As my hormones begin to jump around
In my playground of elusive mood-swings
My person will be eventually found.
And when I'm all built up, as strong as a tree
Facing life - no longer on my knees,
I will turn my head and look behind
The hardest journey past, but - It's forever mine...
... I finished puberty!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Questions
So... I woke up at 2pm this morning. Washed up, ate a cold lunch and spent hours with Youtube until it was roughly 5 about.
I decided not to write on my cell retreat as I felt...
Well, I just didn't feel like it - Things there kinda ended on a sour note.
And it teaches me to think before I talk. I hurt inside when I was rebuked, strangely enough by a sincere piece of paper... But I just can't seem to stop saying things that would make people look silly. It's my way of making people feel at ease around me, but sometimes I guess I end up driving the people I care about the most, away. Life comprises of opposites.
I did revive my hobby of writing poems. I find that it's easier than writing a song - It's sort of like ignoring chord progressions and filling the gaps with raw thought and emotion. Above all, it helps me with my emotions... And I'm more than willing to share my "stuff" with people who enjoy it.
And now to conclude - In this sentence, lies dead one of millions of things I thought of and wanted to put down in words... But never understood or knew how.
Good night.
I decided not to write on my cell retreat as I felt...
Well, I just didn't feel like it - Things there kinda ended on a sour note.
And it teaches me to think before I talk. I hurt inside when I was rebuked, strangely enough by a sincere piece of paper... But I just can't seem to stop saying things that would make people look silly. It's my way of making people feel at ease around me, but sometimes I guess I end up driving the people I care about the most, away. Life comprises of opposites.
I did revive my hobby of writing poems. I find that it's easier than writing a song - It's sort of like ignoring chord progressions and filling the gaps with raw thought and emotion. Above all, it helps me with my emotions... And I'm more than willing to share my "stuff" with people who enjoy it.
And now to conclude - In this sentence, lies dead one of millions of things I thought of and wanted to put down in words... But never understood or knew how.
Good night.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Espoir (07.01.09)
Poems left unwritten,
Words left unsaid.
Songs to be forsaken,
Ill-conceived - They fade...
I live in scenes from a memory,
Always left frightened by its lights and sounds...
Your elusive silhouette in the corner of my eye,
Reminds me of the peace, I once believed I had.
I lift my head to God above,
I turn to face the dust below...
Sing to me of theoretical hopes you once held fast,
As I cling, forcefully, to my doubts.
And now my tears they fall, as I kneel in the dark.
You pick me up, just as you prove me wrong...
And as the morning arrives, and again your light dawns -
I'll write a chorus of praise in a believer's song.
"Wake me up from the dark dreams I will have,
Hold my hand as I cross broken roads...
And leave me abandoned, all to your praise.
Whispering love, 'til the end of my days."
Words left unsaid.
Songs to be forsaken,
Ill-conceived - They fade...
I live in scenes from a memory,
Always left frightened by its lights and sounds...
Your elusive silhouette in the corner of my eye,
Reminds me of the peace, I once believed I had.
I lift my head to God above,
I turn to face the dust below...
Sing to me of theoretical hopes you once held fast,
As I cling, forcefully, to my doubts.
And now my tears they fall, as I kneel in the dark.
You pick me up, just as you prove me wrong...
And as the morning arrives, and again your light dawns -
I'll write a chorus of praise in a believer's song.
"Wake me up from the dark dreams I will have,
Hold my hand as I cross broken roads...
And leave me abandoned, all to your praise.
Whispering love, 'til the end of my days."
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Alone In The Dark (05.01.09)
The darkness of night brings temporal peace to my heart,
yet that is grossly inadequate when I see that you are not by my side.
I played all my cards in ways that wouldn't have me revolve my life around you -
But I have failed, and now your unfading beauty consumes my every thought and quiet moment...
Nights like this bring temporal peace to my soul.
Yet however, I tear in my sleep because I know I cannot reach for you.
But in this night so cold, patience knows
A day will come when I finally find you within my arms.
In our embrace, I will not be holding back from you...
Clinging desperately to your soul then intertwined with mine.
The night, however pained, for now must carry on...
... And I find that I'm alone, abandoned to the cold darkness' onslaught.
yet that is grossly inadequate when I see that you are not by my side.
I played all my cards in ways that wouldn't have me revolve my life around you -
But I have failed, and now your unfading beauty consumes my every thought and quiet moment...
Nights like this bring temporal peace to my soul.
Yet however, I tear in my sleep because I know I cannot reach for you.
But in this night so cold, patience knows
A day will come when I finally find you within my arms.
In our embrace, I will not be holding back from you...
Clinging desperately to your soul then intertwined with mine.
The night, however pained, for now must carry on...
... And I find that I'm alone, abandoned to the cold darkness' onslaught.
Attempt (04.01.09)
My thoughts of pained condemnation, a past potentially simple -
But made complicated by feelings of raw guilt and regret.
I fear to hurt you,
and inside I am scared...
Will you someday find me? I pray you will.
Beneathe the backbeat of a thousand melodies,
there you will find me...
... In an undying wait for you.
But made complicated by feelings of raw guilt and regret.
I fear to hurt you,
and inside I am scared...
Will you someday find me? I pray you will.
Beneathe the backbeat of a thousand melodies,
there you will find me...
... In an undying wait for you.
Friday, January 2, 2009
A Day Late
Well I missed posting on the first day of the year as I was watching the telly.
We'll just pretend this post came along on the 1st, won't we?
SMASH '08 was awesome.
Desiree came along this time, and I threw her to the girls early on. I really do not know how to be a good host. And after worship practice, I had to get into my Scottish kilt with the help of Joel and Esther.
I thought we looked... mildly authentic, with the formal white shirts and blazers. It came together nicely when we walked together in a group.
The games and items were all not bad, but I think the highlight before the worship segments was in a game called "Bizarre Foods" when I saw a certain kid's face exude utter disgust and contempt for whatever it was he had to hold in his mouth for 30 seconds.
Leading up to the first worship practice for SMASH, I had put in around 8 hours of practice on the drums. And I listened to the songs countless times, too.
Thus I thought I had it going for me already by then, but I was clearly wrong. Playing in a team forces you to read people. It makes you think about what you need to become and what you don't need to be. I couldn't handle that fantastically well, and many times I fell apart.
Thus when Sam actually told me he was cutting the amount of songs I would be doing, I wasn't completely surprised. Just bitter at first, not at anyone - But myself. It isn't a good feeling to have tried so hard, but only to fall on your face in front of some of the best musicians in Youth Church. But speaking to Abbey, and Tricia Ann... I then realised being bitter was pointless. All I could do then, was suck it up, don't condemn myself and take the 4 songs given to me, and try to polish them up for God as best as I could. SMASH 08 has humbled me greatly. I am not a great drummer with 'mad skills' like Sam or own any of the many techniques that the other guys have... I just try and get by with what God wants to give me as I give Him praise with the kit. And even though sometimes that doesn't seem like enough, and I want to get better as soon as possible so I can play for God confidently, well and trained - Perhaps God seeks to teach me humility and patience in this area of my service and life.
Before I got into the drumset, I prayed for it. A little special prayer for every single item in the drum kit, and anyone who played the drums. That it'd be all for God, and that no glory would be unto us - But instead, our Heavenly Father who so first gave us what we have.
As I sat on the throne, looking at the faces of the youths in the front. I never thought I'd feel so... Alive. The moment I crashed into the cymbals, bringing resounding praise unto the Almighty God... I felt like I was in the right place. And it was a great honour to lead with the team, the church into God's presence, bringing song and praise.
The first song was "Forever", as I began counting on the high-hat, hearing the exuberant roars of the youth emboldened my heart and I began to look beyond my own failures - and rather focus on giving my best to God. When we hit the chorus with the words "Forever we will sing, glory to the King", seeing throngs of young people jumping in the chapel, daring to reach for God with their praise, feeling the thunderous shaking in the drum throne that each count brought... It was a feeling I'd never forget.
I ran down after my assigned songs to join my cell in worship, and worship God we did.
To summarise, I see the events leading up to SMASH as lessons God wanted me to learn before I could bring Him praise in drumming. I am not perfect, and I messed up a couple of times - But I feel that God is telling me to take the focus off of perfection, and instead look to Him for everything I need, and bring Him praise. True enough, God did not let me down...
I've made new year resolutions as well. And it is my wish that every single day of mine in this year, the next and all of eternity be used for His glory.
To anyone who reads this: Our paths may not be the same, and the things we may do vary... But it is to the same Holy God that our every action brings praise to.
Have a Jesus-filled New Year!
We'll just pretend this post came along on the 1st, won't we?
SMASH '08 was awesome.
Desiree came along this time, and I threw her to the girls early on. I really do not know how to be a good host. And after worship practice, I had to get into my Scottish kilt with the help of Joel and Esther.
I thought we looked... mildly authentic, with the formal white shirts and blazers. It came together nicely when we walked together in a group.
The games and items were all not bad, but I think the highlight before the worship segments was in a game called "Bizarre Foods" when I saw a certain kid's face exude utter disgust and contempt for whatever it was he had to hold in his mouth for 30 seconds.
Leading up to the first worship practice for SMASH, I had put in around 8 hours of practice on the drums. And I listened to the songs countless times, too.
Thus I thought I had it going for me already by then, but I was clearly wrong. Playing in a team forces you to read people. It makes you think about what you need to become and what you don't need to be. I couldn't handle that fantastically well, and many times I fell apart.
Thus when Sam actually told me he was cutting the amount of songs I would be doing, I wasn't completely surprised. Just bitter at first, not at anyone - But myself. It isn't a good feeling to have tried so hard, but only to fall on your face in front of some of the best musicians in Youth Church. But speaking to Abbey, and Tricia Ann... I then realised being bitter was pointless. All I could do then, was suck it up, don't condemn myself and take the 4 songs given to me, and try to polish them up for God as best as I could. SMASH 08 has humbled me greatly. I am not a great drummer with 'mad skills' like Sam or own any of the many techniques that the other guys have... I just try and get by with what God wants to give me as I give Him praise with the kit. And even though sometimes that doesn't seem like enough, and I want to get better as soon as possible so I can play for God confidently, well and trained - Perhaps God seeks to teach me humility and patience in this area of my service and life.
Before I got into the drumset, I prayed for it. A little special prayer for every single item in the drum kit, and anyone who played the drums. That it'd be all for God, and that no glory would be unto us - But instead, our Heavenly Father who so first gave us what we have.
As I sat on the throne, looking at the faces of the youths in the front. I never thought I'd feel so... Alive. The moment I crashed into the cymbals, bringing resounding praise unto the Almighty God... I felt like I was in the right place. And it was a great honour to lead with the team, the church into God's presence, bringing song and praise.
The first song was "Forever", as I began counting on the high-hat, hearing the exuberant roars of the youth emboldened my heart and I began to look beyond my own failures - and rather focus on giving my best to God. When we hit the chorus with the words "Forever we will sing, glory to the King", seeing throngs of young people jumping in the chapel, daring to reach for God with their praise, feeling the thunderous shaking in the drum throne that each count brought... It was a feeling I'd never forget.
I ran down after my assigned songs to join my cell in worship, and worship God we did.
To summarise, I see the events leading up to SMASH as lessons God wanted me to learn before I could bring Him praise in drumming. I am not perfect, and I messed up a couple of times - But I feel that God is telling me to take the focus off of perfection, and instead look to Him for everything I need, and bring Him praise. True enough, God did not let me down...
I've made new year resolutions as well. And it is my wish that every single day of mine in this year, the next and all of eternity be used for His glory.
To anyone who reads this: Our paths may not be the same, and the things we may do vary... But it is to the same Holy God that our every action brings praise to.
Have a Jesus-filled New Year!
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