Woman in a Shoe by Marge Piercy

There was an old woman who lived
in a shoe, her own two shoes,
men's they were, brown and worn.
They flapped when she hobbled along.

There was an old woman who lived
in a refrigerator box under
the expressway with her cat.
January, they died curled together.

There was an old woman who lived
in a room under the roof. It
got hot, but she was scared
to open the window. It got hotter.

Too hot, too cold, too poor,
too old. Invisible unless
she annoys you, invisible
unless she gets in your way.

In fairy tales if you are kind
to an old woman, she gives you
the thing you desperately need:
an unconquerable sword, a purse

bottomless and always filled,
a magical ring. We don't believe
that anymore. Such tales were
made up by old women scared

to be thrust from the hearth,
shoved into the street to starve.
Who fears an old woman pushing
a grocery cart? She is talking

to god as she shuffles along,
her life in her pockets. You
are the true child of her heart
and you see living garbage.

Skinned Knees And Lingering Looks

She shuffles her feet and invites my stare
but avoids it as if she held secrets
Skinned knees and lingering looks
it is hard to tell the difference between the two
Cos' you can't forget that they make you feel,
like you lost yourself.

Finishing lines and sweet first kisses
both leave me breathless
like I've got a mountain to climb
no time to look behind.
In a split second her eyes slip so far back
she sees her past displayed sharp as nails that pierce.

These skirts as short as my patience
Smooth skin shown; sweet to the eye,
But sandpaper my soul
It's not that I'm afraid to hold you;
I'd bring you so close while we
ceaselessly shattered indifference.

No. I'd clutch you like valentine's day's last rose
like you were strings to balloons that I'd never want to lose
It's not that I don't want to hold you;
I just don't want to ever let go.
Because maybe Truth is never easy the first time.
So I'd say it again, don't ever let go.

How Brief Is My Calling (Why I Want To Study In 200 Words)

I am a 28-year-old child. I am always growing and learning. I have a sensitive soul. I love words and the effect they have on me. I want my writing to cause others to feel. I want to find meaning in revealing the stories of people that the world tries so desperately to hide; the orphans, the less-fortunate, and the forgotten.

From the polite and polished requests of customers in the bookshop; the curious child asking questions at the education centre; to the staccato cries of a beneficiary with hearing loss and speech impediments at the day activity centre for people with intellectual disabilities, relevant communication has taught me to work with different groups of people. I have developed workshops, conducting them for students ranging from primary to university level, and tailoring them for corporate groups.

To enable myself to communicate better, I am self-taught in photography, Photoshop and InDesign. I use these skills to produce print advertisements and newsletters to allow my organisation to reach volunteers, donors and the general public. I believe I have the heart, as well as the tools, to flourish as the School of Communications equips me with the knowledge.

A Furious Sneeze (My Life In 300 Words)

I lay in her arms, ears still ringing from the hit-and-run, and hair moist from the mix of blood and broken glass. I was less than 3 weeks old and the car was even younger. My elder brother sat stunned in the front seat whilst my father frantically forced the doors open to get us out, all the while praying to God to save his baby. At the Alexandra Hospital, it was discovered that the blood on my head originated from my mother’s arm, fractured when she instinctively shielded me upon impact.

When he heard I was safe, my grandfather, a devout Methodist pastor, dubbed me as ‘favoured, and destined for great things’. Growing up, I often heard my family repeat this to me. Positive reinforcement, they call it. However, instead of developing my self-esteem and confidence, I became burdened by the weight of expectation. I once remained speechless for 5 minutes during an interview - so great was my fear of disappointing the panel with the wrong answer. That was the cycle I lived in.

I have spent the last decade fighting this cycle by choosing paths that were significant but not necessarily conventional. After my national service, I spent two years in a bible school which taught me that life is measured by love; by how much we give. It is with this perspective that I have spent 3 years working at a charity organization whose beneficiaries were people with an intellectual disability. I have also led volunteer groups to Thailand and Nepal to conduct camps for youth and to serve at an orphanage.

This is the story of my life so far: to take every experience, no matter how bad, and turn it into something beautiful so as to inspire and encourage others.

Dear True Love by Sleeping at Last

Dear True Love
A writer without any words
I'm a story that nobody heard
When I'm without you
I am a voice
I am a voice without any sound
A treasure map that nobody found
When I'm without you
Dear True Love
I'm a lantern without any light
I'm a boxer much too afraid to fight
When I'm without you

So with this ring
May you always know one thing
The little that I have to give
I will give it all to you
You're my one true love

I am a memory
a memory bent out of shape
a child hurt already bruised with age
when I'm without you
So Dear True Love
I'm an artist without any paint
A deal that every one breaks
When I'm without you

So with this ring
May you always know one thing
The little that I have to give
I will give it all to you
You're my one true love

I am a whisper
I am a secret nobody keeps
A dreamer of someone else's dreams
When I'm without you
Dear True Love
I'm a farewell that came too soon
I'm a hand-me-down that dreams of being new
When I'm without you

| Sleeping At Last - Yearbook: February |
Official Website
Check out their February EP on The Drop

XXVIII

These humdrum thumps make its demands
against the door of my heart
They say yield!
You reckless, feckless speck
Before disappointment becomes your main -
Stay before your soul gets caught in the cross -
Fire before your pain becomes life -
Long for all you should be in the one life that you've got

Speak up or they'll find someone else
to be all that you struggle so hard to be
The scent of quick lipstick and nylon stockings
were a reminder of what could be lost.
Questions that are answered,
not with sweet wit but with lips licked,
ready to let these words slip.

Don't you know you're scaring me?
She asks when she sees the knuckles pale.
curled up like a clenched fist,
tension thick in the fingers.
Wrapped around this pencil,
with which I will stain this black leather-backed page
like emotions were shaken coffee cups set down too hard.

Don't let me down so hard.
It is my turn to be afraid now;
that one day I might run out of these words to comfort her with.
That one day I might say what I truly mean.
That I am selfish desire
the flashback of lust
but even that isn't enough
for the both of us.

- Daryl Goh

Love Revealed December 2010 - Trip Report Part 2

YOUTH CAMP

We flew up to Jhapa which is in East Nepal to help out with their youth camp. The camp was held in Mahimit Church and all the youth from the churches and preaching points in that district were invited to the camp. The turnout was about 35 campers which was about half what was expected. This was due to the last minute re-scheduling of their school examinations.

Registrations were a great time to get to know the campers and assign them to the various teams. As the campers streamed in, I couldn't help but notice the lively and cheerful atmosphere in the church compound, made all the more obvious by the vibrant colours of the clothes that the youth were wearing. There was a difference in the disposition of the youth. I couldn't help but feel the love of Jesus in that community.

Pastor Gopal and the youth welcomed us warmly to their church and surprised us with the act of pinning ribbons to our shirts and donning us with scarves. I think all of us felt a little bit bemused because it was a new experience to be honoured before we had contributed anything to them. 

Games.

It was an enjoyable time for all the campers. There were many hilarious moments when we tried to explain the rules of the games to the youth. Especially since our translator was one of the participants who seemed to be more keen on winning the game rather than explaining it to the rest. 

For many, the games and fun are the highlight of the camp. However, we also wanted the games to support and enforce the messages about being a believer. There was a game where the participants were blindfolded and had to search for members of their own group using only a single pre-determined sound (e.g. a clap, a whistle). Another game required them to link arms tightly in groups of 3 while playing football. 

The wonderful thing about having a youth camp in a village church is having the neighbours watch us from the outskirts of the church compound. Some of the children had enough curiosity to overcome their shyness to come in to watch.

Mass Dance.

One of the amazing things about the Nepali is how dance is so deeply incorporated into their rich culture. It is a form of expression that most Singaporeans simply do not comprehend. And because of the popularity of the dance from the youth camp in Kathmandu in June, we were asked to come up with a new dance for the one in Jhapa.

The camp theme dance was set to the song, One Way by Hillsong United. Our team taught the campers the moves on the first day of the camp. The youth were so enthused about perfecting the dance; they spent almost every break-time pleading with us to show them the moves 'one more time'. We might have feigned exasperation, but actually we enjoyed every moment of it. It was all worth it when we saw the youth pumping their fist singing the chorus, "One Way, Jesus!"

Ministry.

We had the privilege of laying hands and praying for every single camper, blessing them by speaking truth to their spirits. We thank God for using us as His channels of ministry towards these future leaders.

We also prayed for a girl who had collapsed during the camp. She was sent to hospital but the doctors discharged her from the hospital after finding nothing physically wrong with her. On our last day in Jhapa, she was having convulsions. We were supposed to leave for the airport but we decided to spend a little more time praying and ministering to her. After worshiping and praying for about 45 minutes, her body seemed to relaxed and we felt at ease to leave. She is now well and back to her normal self.

Appreciation from the Pastor.

"Thank you so much for time that you gave to us and also all the services, games and other items which has really inspired our youth camp. It has been a really wonderful and humble service towards our youth. We will never forget it. We will be expecting your service in future also. We enjoyed dancing with you and the fun that we had while playing games. You were really a good brother and sister as well as very close friends to us."

| Pastor Gopal |

Fun Facts.

• Jhapa currently has one Methodist Church and 4 preaching points.
  (Jasing Guan, Badamtar, Dhadare, Surunga)
• The camp was held in Mahimit Church. Mahimit means Glory.
• While attempting to climb it, one of our team members broke a makeshift ladder that led to the roof. There were no serious injuries sustained other than to the team member's pride. 
• There is a game where one had to juggle a ball of rubber bands with one's feet. One of the youth beat Gerald 39 to 26.
• Chia Tea in Jhapa is sweeter than in Kathmandu.