#4 She Moves In Mysterious Ways

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NaPoWriMo, or National Poetry Writing Month, is an annual project in which participating poets attempt to write a poem a day for the month of April. This is my attempt at 30 poems in 30 days.

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Culture is a thief and a prince,despised for his crimes, yet adored for his rugged charm
His silhouette, strong in the dawn of a new day, adds to the mystery, and they worship him
Revolution is an elegant dancer, always with an open invitation to join her delicate dance of time
to move in step to the rhythms of change

She is shunned, maybe even feared
In the proud world of their shallow minds, their envy turns to hate
They ridicule the story she longs to tell
Her movements restricted because she is bound
And she is battered by the fists of their stares
Bruised by heavy criticism, thrown like stones

He watches from beyond the crowd
wanting to come to her aid
but their desperate hands keep him away
their frantic cries prevent him from being heard

Let us handle this, let us defend your honor
We serve you and love you
We will discipline her and teach her some respect
This is how it is supposed to be

He shakes his head,
His eyes dark, hard to make out
This is not what I wanted
This is not how it is supposed to be

She is hard to look at now, a bundle of shame
Just a glimpse, a glistening of tears
a glance which looks a lot like forgiveness.
Tomorrow she will nurse these wounds
She will bind them up, put on a smile
and she will dance as if pain was never felt

- Daryl Goh

#3 Be Careful How You Frame Your Argument

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NaPoWriMo, or National Poetry Writing Month, is an annual project in which participating poets attempt to write a poem a day for the month of April. This is my attempt at 30 poems in 30 days.

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I sit alone in this café.
The cheap fake wood that lines these walls
Covered with lines and lines of words that make no sense.
The lull of the evening crowd punctuated by explosions of laughter
I hide safe, shielded from distractions by a mug of Chai,
pushing thoughts, twisting them as they flow
from my mind to will, to the pen on paper.

I summon confidence and creativity,
I wield them like a scalpel in a surgeon's hands.
But I'm not used to their cold precision.
And yet I ready my pen as if to make the final incision.

Possibilities stack up like a deck of cards,
and I remember the conversation with the Queen of hearts
I remember the heat of the day spilling over into the heat of her words
An angry red painted on an angry face
Forgetting for a moment that we were all hearts.
That we were all on the same side.

What consequences are left to be carried?
Her raw, rude gestures, suddenly drastic.
As if deliberate, as though practiced,
The fury of words released like a rehearsed script,
The delivery perfect. Brutal. Award-winning.

I never stood a chance.

- Daryl Goh

#2 Go Do

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NaPoWriMo, or National Poetry Writing Month, is an annual project in which participating poets attempt to write a poem a day for the month of April. This is my attempt at 30 poems in 30 days.

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There is a song I have in me
And I stayed up all night to sing it
I won't leave unless you're with me
Could that just be procrastination?
I could pretend that I didn't hear
That I was unaware of this call, this undying call
That I'm not made for here, not meant to stay

My heart is painted with envy, slapped on thick and heavy
When I see others go before me,
It makes me wish I knew how
Makes me wish I was there now
Makes me wish I could go do
Make these wishes come true

- Daryl Goh

#1 A Revolution Has Begun

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NaPoWriMo, or National Poetry Writing Month, is an annual project in which participating poets attempt to write a poem a day for the month of April. This is my attempt at 30 poems in 30 days.

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A revolution has begun today for me inside, the ultimate defense is to pretend
I let these words reverberate within me
I repeat them like a child discovering echoes for the first time.
There are love songs, their lyrics like the texture of a well-made suit
They wrap around shoulders like a lover's whisper

Our purpose and our passions press down
Words are wheels, carrying the weight
After all, our pretense sprouts from fear
We all fear.
Or we all lie.

We accuse the Revolutionary of stirring up the people
As if pointing to dreams and fuelling the pursuit of vision was a crime
God is light and we are afraid of being exposed
He is seen but He is not understood
We prefer our flaws kept hidden in the shadows
Why do we keep crucifying Salvation?
Does what has always been mean that it should always be?
Separate these heavy expectations
They are beyond me

- Daryl Goh

Discover The Dusk Of Your Day Has Turned To Dawn

Something doesn't sync. I wish I could figure it out but I cannot pinpoint the cause. People tell me, "No one has it all figured out. That's what life is for isn't it? "

Isn't it?

I think life should be more than a struggle to stay in balance, trying to avoid one extreme or the other. We forget that God IS the spectrum; our characters and personality are all from Him. He exists and owns it all. He is anger and justice and judgement. He is Love and forgiveness and pardon. At the same time.

The problem is He is the spectrum and we have no idea how to embrace it all. 

As I said before, I've been out of sync. As much as I am able I'm remaining faithful with what ministry I've been assigned to. I've served in my church almost all my life. I throw my life into my work at Christian Outreach to the Handicapped. I throw my life into the Worship Ministry in my church. I throw my life into the Youth Ministry in church. I've been giving and serving from the overflow of what God has given to me.

But lately, its not been fulfilling.

I feel a little bit betrayed lately. I feel my heart is a little bit raw. Like a prime cut, beaten pink, and ready for the heat. People are not the cause. There is a underlying reason for all this frustration. A desire that has not been met, a path not travelled, a direction mistaken. Where did I veer off?

Andrew Loh was preaching about my favourite passage in John chapter 4 recently. It was about Jesus when He met the Samaritan woman at the well. Jesus was alone because the disciples had all gone to buy food. Andrew then made a little observation, "Why did it take 12 disciples to go and buy lunch? Maybe the food was really heavy!"

And there was my revelation and it hit me hard. Like the 12 disciples, we get so caught up in life. We're struggling so hard, arguing with one another about which is the best way to buy lunch. We've abandoned Jesus. We aren't where the miracles are happening. That is my frustration. I'm letting life entangle me with its meaningless squabbles.

Lift up your eyes! I want to be with Jesus.

Tears Don't Fall For No Reason At All

I couldn’t sleep last night. After the weekly ritual of season 9 of American Idol, I went back to my room and lay there while thought after thought, person after person coursed through my mind. This is not normal. I don’t usually have trouble sleeping. I’m not that kind of person. In army, I held the record for getting some shuteye during our brief breaks. It didn’t matter that we weren’t allowed to sleep on the beds. The floor was clean, cool and welcoming. We only had 15 minutes for ‘admin time’? Didn’t matter, I was out in 15 seconds.

I don’t usually have trouble sleeping.

But last night, I did. I lay there trying to figure out why? Was it the excitement of watching the shrewd and talented Didi Benami, American Idol Contestant - and in my opinion, season 9 champion - get into the final 24? No. Was it the coffee and milo mix I had in the morning in the office? No.

It had to be the anguish of going through another round of silent questioning during the Lunar New Year visitations. Their eyes giving away their revulsion of handing a twenty-seven year old yet another red packet. Grand Auntie Gladys encapsulated it beautifully when she lovingly looked at me, the words sweet yet stinging.
No girlfriend yet? Why not?
Her tone revealed that she was puzzled at the absurdity of it.
How could you not be attached? Such a wonderful boy.
At least it made me feel slightly better. But that wasn’t it either.

I was staring into the darkness trying to summon the sleep. But it just kept slipping away. And then it hit me. Wave after wave after wave of frustration, disappointment, anguish and loneliness. I closed my eyes but it didn’t help.

I’m in the wrong country, the wrong job, the wrong church. I’m chasing the wrong girls; I am the wrong kind of guy. I have the wrong ambitions and dreams. I’m living in the wrong house with the wrong people.

There it was, all laid out. Fair enough, it was truth mingled with lies, but it was all real and it could be felt. The tears started to flow. It was quiet, tired tears. The kind that cannot be stopped, even if your eyes were closed. Like dew dripping off the edge of a leaf, the moisture being coaxed from the heavy morning air.

If there's one thing I've learnt, its this. Everytime a new wave of depression tries to bring me down proves that there is greatness around the corner and I must not get distracted. Tears may signify sorrow and sadness, but they also mean hope and promise for those who wait.

My sister shared this on her blog. Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.
She also messaged me this morning saying that she had prayed for me in the night. Sometimes, that is all that is needed.

This Is The New Year

Many people take time to reflect when they come to a new year and I am one of them. We proudly bring our acheivements to light, while we desperately try to hide failures and regrets. Here is a humourous definition of the word 'reflection'.

An action of the mind whereby we obtain a clearer view of our relation to the things of yesterday and are able to avoid the perils that we shall not again encounter.

| Ambrose Bierse - The Cynic's Word Book |

As with all good humour, there is always an element of truth in it. Sometimes, on reflection, we cultivate fear instead of drawing the positives from the experience. We say of the pain of the failed relationship, "I'm not going to do THAT again," when instead, we need to keep reminding ourselves to pour out love. We need to recalculate the equation that says that rejection equals failure. Or that the fizzling out of a movement meant that it was a mistake.

No. The opportunity for change and resolution look like splashes of colour on canvas, the visionary artist trying to emphasise each stroke. As if to say you have more chances if you didn't get it right the first time around. Well, this is my attempt to make sense of 2010. To take the 28th year of my life and live it for others.

To Owe Ten.
This is the goal for 2010. Based on Romans 13 verses 8 and 14, which basically tells us to owe nothing except Love. The act is simple. Find 10 people who need to be shown unconditional Love, Extravagent Love, Ridiculous Love. Because Love fulfills. Its time we paid up our debts of Love.