Post-Party-Poem

18/03/2006

Winding down from a day of peace
even then, as bedtime draws near,
thoughts and reminiscences of the week
come racing through my mind,
sped up thanks to red wine
quite uninvited I might say,
just like last night, as I lay,
not succeeding in turning off my mind...

I can see, hear and read a flame,
and as I do that, breathe it in too,
as the fire in my heart is given food.

The ponderings of a lone heart
may be depressing at times
but may also bring intense joy...
Or, what do I know, I am he.
Not a regular member of a family,
the strange one, what is wrong?
Moving from place to place.
Maybe one day I'll find myself
in a place that is home, where I belong.
That is my hope, and my song...

An Inkling of truth

06 February 2006

Inkling of truth

Where’s my ink and where’s my pen?

Stop to breathe and pray to ten.

I panic when the waters break,

The delivery may not be so safe.

I don’t know what I’ve got to say,

But the surge is there anyway.

Do I have the gift or do I not?

Why does passion possess me, concerning all:

I can’t let go of one desire…

Do I have the gift or do I not?

What about the “and”s and “for”s and “but”s.

Drop a word or drop a line,

The risks are high and the shame is mine…

Yet I have passion, passion like a child.

Without reason, simply wild.

Freedom’s out and freedom’s in,

Outside these walls and in my pen.

Will I think about a girl,

Shining smile and lovely curves?

Or will I think about God,

The author of my life hereon.

I really don’t know what to say

But the urge is there anyway.

A candle burns inside of me

Don’t want to let it go to sleep.

Do I have the gift or do I not?

What about the “and”s and “for”s and “but”s?

Drop a word or drop a line,

The risks are high and the joy is mine.

And I have passion, passion like a child…

I have passion, passion like a child.

Without reason, simply wild.

Freedom’s out and freedom’s in

Outside the walls and in my pen.

Where’s my ink and where’s my pen,

Stop to breathe and pray to ten.

I panic when the waters break

The delivery may not be so safe.

Will I think about a girl,

With shining smile and lovely curves

Or will I think about God…

Create, don't create, create, don't create...

Thursday evening was the night... We excitedly made our way into the hall, to find our place, people we knew all around.
A twitching figure on stage, grey dusty hair, checkered light yellow suit, bushy beard, wrinkled face, tossing and turning, as though demonised... The lights went out, the play commenced.














I was so impressed with The Green Stick, Liam really has produced a gem of quality. Andy also was fabulous. Almost unrecognisable, I thought, when he appeared on stage, his movements and voice so natural and so unlike him.
I do hope they get asked to perform it again.
(Since Liam has created a link to this post calling it a review, I will elaborate.)
Two characters, a tree, a fridge full of books, a bench and two holes dug in the ground.
The mixture of the absurd and profound supposedly "reminiscent of Beckett and Ionesco" was there, no doubt, but I would say, from what I have seen of the two quoted (which is, not much, to be honest) that it went much more in depth in its exposition of the point that is trying to be put across. I would class it also with Pirandello, though not as extreme, as it presents the readiness to accept an illusion as a substitute for truth, as long as it is good enough to fit... The thing linking these three playwrights and estranging The Green Stick from their plays is the fact that Liam has created a play with a purpose that is more than to confuse, shock and proclaim the desperate situation of the human nature, in that there is a solution to the existential problem posed. (Liam is going to slate this post when he has reread this! "It's nothing like that, you wannabe critic!")
The attack to post-modern, pluralist worldviews is quite obvious throughout the play, which I love, because I can't stand that thinking which denies the possibility of truth and absolutes, arrogant thinking that says we are more intelligent than the wisdom of the ages.
The character who claims to be seeking truth but denies the existence of such a thing, trying to elevate himself above all is wretched like a dog, while the one who with simplicity gives his understanding of the world, knowing it is flawed, but open to receiving truth, rises like a bird...
The idea of the stick is based on this quote of Lev Tolstoj (as we write it in French) that you have surely seen on the leaflet, or on imanartichoke.blogspot.com: "I used to believe that there was a green stick, buried on the edge of a ravine in the old Zazak forest at Yasanya Polyana on which words were carved that would destroy all evil in the hearts of men and bring them everything good." Throughout the play, quotes from other authors are cunningly inserted, as pensées en passant, and Liam fitted little references to other writers here and there, irreverently ;) .
The second half of the play was particularly poignant, as we get closer to the dénouement, which you will have to see for yourself! So yeah, I do hope they get to perform it again, because it is a gem of quality as I said, and unlike anything around!

I got home that night feeling so inspired, and in such a philosophical mood, it was particularly refreshing. Which brings me to my... dilemma.
I have not been spending much time at all with my "Inkling buddies" of late, the guys who would, by their very nature, spur me on to create something coming from the depths of my mind, my heart. Fellows who would also be encouraged by what I write, as poor in quality as it would be, into brandishing anew a calligraphic instrument above a slice of paper, and let rip in a blurry but determined release of thoughts.
Was it Kant who said that no thought was finite or concrete until it was delivered in an explicit form, for example spoken or written? (Do correct me if I am wrong, I am just trying to appear to be smart, when really, I'm a fool.)
I must say I agree with this understanding of thoughts, broadly, mainly when it comes down to creative thinking: those thoughts are like a bomb that is released from a plane, falling, waiting to explode. If undelivered, it will fall into the sea, and just create a lot of turmoil (like an ulcer in people who fail to express themselves). But if pen darkens the paper with shapes and symbols, letters and punctuation, that bomb has exploded and creates an appreciable disaster. (Please note I am not a fan of war, guns or explosives, it is simply a image.)

But sometimes it may be a question of timing. Now is a time to read, to learn, to grow. I certainly don't have the time, at the moment, to sit down and produce worlds. Soon, I may be able to be released in it again. I wish I had a person to spur me on into it. Maybe I am not a particularly good writer, I do enjoy the whole process though, I want to learn and get better at it.

Last night I found and read in my messy room a few pages of my fellow Inkling Andrew's second Canterbury Tale. I wanted to write into the night. I had been particularly blessed yesterday, in being given the opportunity to speak at the youth group the same day, because of my poor friend's flu not allowing him to do it. It was great and just filled me with passion for the rest of the evening. Instead of staying up, I shoved myself in bed. I would not say this very often, but it was a mistake.


What has meaning? Nothing but what is eternal...
I say: "Come and give me that Wildfire."

Life of late

Here's a bit of an update on what has been going on lately. The Blog has been slightly neglected, except for the occasional short poem, because those are actually the only things I have had the time to write in the past five months.
Church work has really taken a lot of my time over, which is fair enough, it's my job and I love it. I'll jot down some highlights of last term, one of which would be preaching to the youth, that was great; I prepared a study on Romans 8:15-16, which took me quite a lot of preparing. It was the first time I actually prepared and gave such a long and fairly exhaustive preach. I loved it.
That has been one of the ways I have stepped out in my spiritual gifting. Some of the best times have been the times I have spent studying doctrine and the Bible.
Our youth group has been fantastically blessed and each social activity I have organised for Friday nights last term, even when done last minute and stressed out, has run so smoothly... I have also had the privilege of mentoring some young fellas and seeing them grow. I myself have been growing loads in one term.
I had a great holiday in Italy, Christmas was nice and warm, as well as relaxed, which is a rarity when in family. :) I spent lovely moments in family and with my friends in Orbetello and Grosseto.
The Church in Grosseto is burgeoning, I believe great things are going to happen to it. I was asked to go up front at New Year's service and give a testimony of what has been happening in my life. After that, my Italian pastor told me I was preaching next time I happened to be in Orbetello, which would be in April... exciting!
... I have had the chance of seeing some of the great leaders of our family of churches in action at the last training, just amazing to see these men of God with huge vision and yet so down to earth, honest and servant-hearted, modelling the character of Jesus.
Last night we started our Youth Alpha, which was spectacular. We are meeting in a café in the centre of town every Tuesday and there are so many youth coming to the meetings. Last night God was there, just beautiful.
God is providing financially for me, which is also really encouraging.
In terms of what is going to happen this term, God is giving myself and the other youth leaders fresh vision and passion; I am particularly feeling a call to praying and studying the Scriptures more fervently as well as new ways to reach to the youth in helping them grow.
Thank you all for your prayers.
Happy New Year!!!

under the sun

Venerdì, 30 Dicembre 2005

Orbetello

Tuscan Snow

A cloud has hovered over our sky

Swiftly, before anyone could know.

But slowly, gliding down from on high,

Flake after flake, here comes the snow.

Minute by minute, the air is full

Thousands of flakes dancing in circles

Landing over the green hills and fields,

Over and in between olive tree leaves.

Bonfire smoke rises unaware of the fun,

In a place which is normally used to the sun.

When was the last time these lands saw

White fall upon them, like manna from God.

Swiftly as it comes, away the cloud flies,

Blue and sun again fill the skies.

The Sand and the Sea still share their commune

Woods, unchanged, as though they never knew.

experiencing psalm

23/12/2005

Ansedonia Beach

Serenity... As the wind caresses the surface of the water

Peace... As the sea flutters and the sun draws a line from the end to here.

Rest... As the waves and breeze harmonise in song.

Glad... As my heart takes it in.

Then, as I opened my Bible, this Psalm came to life, wrote itself, right before my eyes...

Psalm 19

For the director of music.

A psalm of David.

1 The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

2 Day after day they pour forth speech;

night after night they display knowledge.

3 There is no speech or language

where their voice is not heard.

4 Their voice goes out into all the earth,

their words to the ends of the world.

In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun,

5 which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion,

like a champion rejoicing to run his course.

6 It rises at one end of the heavens

and makes its circuit to the other;

nothing is hidden from its heat.

7 The law of the LORD is perfect,

reviving the soul.

The statutes of the LORD are trustworthy,

making wise the simple.

8 The precepts of the LORD are right,

giving joy to the heart.

The commands of the LORD are radiant,

giving light to the eyes.

9 The fear of the LORD is pure,

enduring forever.

The ordinances of the LORD are sure

and altogether righteous.

10 They are more precious than gold,

than much pure gold;

they are sweeter than honey,

than honey from the comb.

11 By them is your servant warned;

in keeping them there is great reward.

12 Who can discern his errors?

Forgive my hidden faults.

13 Keep your servant also from willful sins;

may they not rule over me.

Then will I be blameless,

innocent of great transgression.

14 May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart

be pleasing in your sight,

O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.

Hallelujah!

God is good!

An Evening of Creativity

10/11/2005
Garden State playing on mute,
between minutes 38&48 on repeat,
Ludovico Einaudi track 9 on repeat

Something has been awakened in me,
I have not experienced since... I don't know when.
I believe I was moving
as if in deep mud for long moment
and now I have been pulled out, cleaned up and I'm runnin',
with open arms.
The chords of my heart are being played by someone
who knows exactly what to do.
And it was silent for so long!

My Father has taken me by the hand
and made me look at Him again.
I recognise him once again.
I understand him once again.
I have fallen in love wiht him again.
... Now He's playing a symphony in me,
making me feel all that I should and that I am.
I trust him once again,
so I feel forgiven, and the one who was faithful takes me in His arms,
showing me once again
the myriad of emotions He has for me.
Love, in its intensity and its pain,
is more than I can bear,
laughing and crying at the same time seems such a paradox.

I trust him again,
and I know He's got the best for me.
Here, it's just me and him,
and that's how I want it, for now.
But I know He knows someone
somewhere else
and He's got her, special, unique and perfect for me,
and also kind of crazy.
He's brought me back into
a... fairy tale reality (lalala) :
The way He wants it to be,
playing music inside of me...

10/11/2005

each key hits my ear,
each string pulls on my heart,
each tone makes me jump within my skin.
The music kills me
and brings me back to life
at the same time
a thousand times over.
... In a really good way.

10/11/2005

In an outpour of emotions and words,
finishing off I collide on the table, on my page,
it's almost too much to take... I can't.
I can't wait... to share this someone else.

10/11/2005

I almost killed myself the other day.
In an uncoordinated attempt to jump
onto a small wall,
I lost balance, fell head first,
grabbing onto a nearby lamppost
I rolled over and landed on my back.
Got up straight away
and went on my way
my head completely unscathed
my legs hurting instead.
I think I was saved.
:) Thanks.

10/11/2005
Call it conclusion

Ever so often there's these irrational bursts of emotions, that are so intense they practically break my heart. In a way they make me feel alive, maybe God has a purpose for them. They certainly awaken my creativity!
I know people think that guys are not supposed to be emotional, or sensitive, but that's a load of nonsense. It's only because most men suppress their emotions and they end up feeling oppressed and feel like they need everyone to share in their oppression.
I want everyone to share in my freedom.
Call it sinusoidal heart patterns, I'm alive. Are you?

... I gotta tell you, I was afraid I wouldn't be able to write down, to express in words the feelings and pictures I had. I thank Jesus for giving me the ability to. And the Holy Spirit for the inspiration. And Dad, for his love.

regaining touch

Sunday, 23/10/2005

Take a moment, in between

chaotic dreams and full speed life

before I finally go to sleep, to grab a pen and write.

"It felt like my life stopped although it was in acceleration,

I lost the string that I was following with concentration."

The quiet moments are the best to examine what it's been like

collecting my thoughts and doing things no one else really likes.

Simple pleasures I appreciate that make me sophisticated

in my own way.

Dreaming dreams and thinking thoughts that are never really clear

Hoping that a concretisation eventually will draw near.

Oh, in my desires I am lost and with no aim,

if not the one to plod on in faith to eventually claim

a finite work for myself.

In the meantime, just write along,

maybe a poem, maybe a song,

with a mug of hot chocolate that says on it "star",

and swirling smoke rising from my cigar.

Matching poems

05/09/2005

07:00

As I am walking into town
the silence of the morning reigns
but quietly broken by the rain
as the sun begins to break.

14/09/2005

Walking down the same path
same time as before.
You painted the sky for me,
in a way that speaks
like a note on a mirror
that says "I love you, have a good day at work :)"

Let us talk about life

I wanted to start this post with, "Let's talk about ME!", but I thought that might sound arrogant.
First of all, an open apology, I know some of you have been checking my Blog regularly and have been regularly dissappointed by not seeing anything new (Papa). My writing has been limited in the past two weeks by the fact that I have started working full time for the church. It's a lot of office work, every week in preparation for the events that are coming up, mainly Friday nights, but we want to make it bigger and better, so we are looking for new venues to meet up in with the youth and so on.
So that's the news: I AM A FULL TIME CHRISTIAN YOUTH WORKER!!!!
It's all very exciting, even though working in the office about four days a week is quite intense, sometimes you feel like you don't have anything to do...
We are looking forward to going out on the streets and inviting new youth to come to Youthness and Youth Alpha, doing outreach events and reaching into the schools, at the same time, I am trying to figure out which is the best way to get the young men growing steadily on their path with God. Some are excited about it, some less, but nonetheless they need discipleship. I'm picking up again the Men's Breakfast Group, which is really exciting, and tomorrow talking on the topic of forgiveness, how the forgiveness of Christ affects us and how we should respond to it. God has been teaching me a lot about this, through reading but also through reaching into my heart and moving things, piecing things together, so I can speak out of experience, which is always good when you're talking about something of that pastoral importance.
Other great stuff going on in my life is that I am doing Impact training along with the church service (which is the whole point of the year, to learn theology while being on the field, rather than just learn without gaining any practical expeerience). The first training block was two weeks ago and we learnt about Ethics, which deeply involves us as Christians. I was really impressed at the way our speaker Pete Carter presented the issues and exposed fully the implications of certain ones, not being afraid of sounding controvertial. He is a man of immense knowledge and spiritual insight and yet, so humble, gotta get me some of that! On every issue he wanted to whoop out the legalistic answer and bring in the godly answer.
I also get to attend a counselling foundational course, possibly to go on and do a further counselling course which actually would give me credits in the open university!
I have to set aside study times every week, which is great, I get to study Biblical Theology and Systematic Theology, which is so very cool indeed.
I am really happy, this year I get to do the thing I most wanted to do in my life. I don't know what will happen next, but I believe it will continue in this rollercoaster ride! Don't wanna miss out on any of the blessings God has for me!
The office team is great, I get to spend time with some really great people and we have a say in some really important issues, which is really cool!
This year is all about God and I can fulfill to the max my life's mission, to desire God more and more every day!

Take it easy guys and don't worry about me!

More rain

Wet clouds
Originally uploaded by Ti.mo.

Mardi, 22/08/2005

Water falling
intermittently
landing, loading
releasing in ripples
across the glass
on this strange trip,
where the blue has turned to grey,
driving along this huge highway,
getting to know this person next to me,
in her desires and pains,
her bad hair days, which will never be
really as they say, her locks too pretty.

Every thing you have done
is beautiful and enrapturing:
the raindrops, as they tear
racing onto the surface of the window
in so many strange shapes
and the line and pattern
that I follow along the fringe
that comes out more than
the rest of her hair, across her eye,
curling up onto her face.

What a strange day this is,
and what a place
to be in... Looking back
it reminds me that everything I see,
makes me know your grace.

Giorno di pioggia

Venerdí, 19/08/2005

Che coincidenza
Che in questo giorno di pioggia
Caddono dai vostri occhi queste lacrime sincere.

Gli scherzi e viaggi e balli sono un ricordo del passato,
che rammentano solo: un altro anno e gia andato.
Il parto dopo tanto tempo
peró, e sempre alquanto duro;
di quello che vi abbia dato
io non son tanto sicuro.
Sperare soltanto posso
che imparato qualcosa abbiate;
che non sia solo l'accademia
tra cui nella vita cambiate.

La gioia, l'amicizia e amore
son quelli che vi spingono
e dare, quanto ne date
senza neanche chiederlo indietro,
per questo piangete, ma poi raddrizzatevi e andate.
Un altro anno viene, come sempre, ma guardate
oltre a quello che vedete. Non so se ci saranno
altri viaggi, balli e amori.

Ma una cosa e certa,
rimarrete nei nostri cuori.

A La Musique (un tribut Rhimbaldien)

Fall Comes to Georgetown Prep (9662)
Originally uploaded by DCVoyager.

Brighton, Saturday 06/08/2005

Sauvé du tempo accéléré
et le rhytme brisé
de l'activité incessante
et renouvelée, derrière et devant,
des ruelles suggestives et pittoresques
mais densement peuplées.

Une oasis verte, rieuse et tranquille
où l'on peut s'entendre penser,
toutefois d'une manière biaisée
par faute du calme
dans lequel on est tombé.

Le vent accompagne un air
sans que l'on ne s'en rende compte tout-à-fait
sur le moment, car sa douceur, comme un parfum
est subtil et récomfortant.

Une fois identifié le son étranger
l'on se met à chercher sa source;
l'air le transporte de part et d'autre
sans se soucier de tous ces hôtes.

Le voila repéré, au milieu du jardin,
un saxophoniste insouciant,
qui joue librement, prend une pause
puis reprend son chant.

Clairement l'on remarque l'effet
que l'aria du troubadour a sur les passants
et enfin se poser sur l'herbe
avec cette musique qui permet
de rêver
sans que les yeux soient fermés.

Many discoveries and old things brought back to life

Sherwood Forest
Originally uploaded by publicenergy.

Rediscovering the things you like is always a pleasant experience, which can be accompanied by a little dose of regret. The reason for this is that it reminds you of the time wasted on doing so many other useless things while you could have been having the time of your life and being built up at the same time. Nature is so taken for granted. Getting in touch with nature is the most fulfilling phenomenon for me, but believing that it is going nowhere and there's always plenty of time to do that so other time, I end up always putting things before it, losing a part of me...

In the past four years I have not really been camping anymore overnight, but I finally have found a bunch of fellas who are up for the adventure and don't mind waking up with the possibility of having an ant crawling up their nose...

So this in a sense is the second installment to the stag night's adventure. Churchwood is the perfect spot for campfire, for fun and for sleeping in the open, we decided to go back there and that's what we did last night! Just the three of us, me, Pat (my new housemate, who rocks!) and Jimbo (my bandmate, who rocks!). The flora of the forest had grown back and overgrown in some places, making it slightly more difficult to get through but in the end we were victorious. The only person who had anything really to complain about was Patrik, who had thought it a good idea to wear sandals in the wild; thorned bushes' arguments left nothing to say but "OUCH!" and "Aah, that's not cool!", as they tore across his feet's skin. Patrik kept his cool anyway, as a strong Fin who has been in the army does and after much hacking and slashing, we ceremonially shook the plants off our walking sticks and sat down to rest in the place we call our home.
Building the fire was a fairly easy task, thanks to the mysterious people who have not been seen having piled up fantastic wood ages ago, which was good to go right onto our fire and to the big-ass matches I have, so within minutes, we had a roaring bonfire with gigantic logs on it too!

The discoveries were mainly in the food and drinks we had and Prosciutto Maremmano is definitely better after a nice roasting on the end of a skewer. I also found out that Koskenkorva is better to be drunk by the swig rather than the way you'd drink Limoncello, one sip at a time.

It was a time of sharing and fun and interestingly poetic texting, we ate, drank (rather abundantly) and listened to chilled music by the fire, really being brothers, talking about our thoughts and fears, problems and joys. God blessed us immensely with the weather and with the time spent together.

This next day, the thoughts are many and the yawns are too (the sun woke us up at 4:30 in the morning), but these (the thoughts, not the yawns) will have to wait for another blog, because of the yawns being too many, but let me challenge you with a question:

what does the word Church mean to you?...

art

Chromatic theme medieval Japanese art. Thanks to Stuart for the link!