Home

Is home the four walls I call mine

For a little while,

The pillow my head longs for

on a too long night?

The noise of a party

Creeping inside?

 

Or is home where my mother sings,

And my father scolds,

And my sisters laugh,

And dogs bark, and roosters crow,

And memories are painted on every rock?

 

Is home the kitchen sink

Where I labour for bread?

Or the well-worn plush

Of a theatre hall?

Or the crisp air

Before an early flight?

Or the winking sea

On a summer eve?

Or the melting concrete

Bathing in neon-light?

 

But the song quietens, and the address changes, and the plane touches down, and the curtain falls, and the sea dries out, and the lights flicker, and the party ends,

And I realise that home is not a place, but a feeling.

Perhaps I Love You

~To N.~

I pray for you by every crucifix

And toast you in every old tavern.

I cry for you in every empty corner

And whisper your name on every windy hill.

But when you are near,

I hide behind a fan

And tell you there is someone else.

Always ‘someone else’.

Perhaps I love you, but I cannot yield.

Not because I do not dare to love,

But because I’m afraid to lose you.

And I would lose you, that is for certain,

Because loss is the end of every love.

God vs. Gurus

It is without doubt that spirituality is gaining popularity. Websites and newspaper articles wax lyrical about mindfulness, travel agents earn fortunes with their spiritual retreats, and there are regular meditation courses even in smaller cities. More and more people, disillusioned with a selfish and cruel world, set out in pursuit of something beyond its limitations. But while we are ready to accept the existence of supernatural forces, why do we reject religion so stubbornly?

This could be a sign of the selfishness of our times. The old-fashioned, traditional sense of community is often sacrificed at the altar of individual goals. Everything around us tells us that we, our dreams and our desires are above all else. Others matter less and less. Eager to pursue our dreams, we turn to supernatural beings because we believe that they can help us. We are attracted to guardian angels because they can ward off danger. We rush to return to our past lives through meditation because they nurture the illusion that not our current mistakes but events in a different lifetime are responsible for our failures. We meditate to empower ourselves and shut out a cruel world. We gladly dip into the warm pool of spiritualism, because it comforts us with encouraging messages: we are valuable, therefore we should only accept the best and never compromise or give up on anything. And most importantly, they give the impression that we are in charge of our lives, and we can even control supernatural forces.

By contrast, religion cannot offer such an appealing message. God says that we are born to be humble servants, not haughty rulers. And even harder to stomach is the fact that God is not a magician who will make all our wishes come true. In fact, it is us who have to submit ourselves to His will. But we abhor the idea of not being in control, living for others, and not only for ourselves. In an individualistic society, it is unthinkable to put our dreams on hold to help someone else. In addition,  in a time when ‘anything goes’, we are unwilling to live by the moral guidelines of righteousness set by the Bible. We don’t think that anyone has the right to tell us what to do. In short, unlike our spiritual gurus, God does not say that we will glide smoothly through life. We will inevitably experience bumps on the way, and at times God will lead us into darkness, in order to draw us closer to Him. Following God means sometimes accepting suffering and knowing that He will set everything will right in the end. But many people are unwilling to suffer even momentarily, because it goes against the world’s governing principle of instant gratification.

It is promising that an increasing number of people are beginning to realise that there is something beyond this life, beyond human understanding. However, we miss the point if we only accept the pretty side of the truth. While we are keen to invoke otherworldly spirits, we do not consider what will happen to us after we die. We put all our hopes in this life. That’s why FOMO is so prevalent. We want to experience everything to the fullest in this life. But our earthly life is only a tiny fraction of the life that God intends us to have. True, we may have to give up on some of our dreams, and embrace suffering, but all earthly discomfort and glory will pass, and we will eventually reach our final destination in heaven, where eternal happiness is our reward for a righteous life.

Please Support our Film Project

I don’t like pestering people with requests, but this time I need to ask for help. I’m working with a film company, and I was asked to raise funds for our next project. I would really appreciate it if you could help us out in any way. We are an independent film production company, and we are planning to shoot a cutting-edge biographical movie based on the fascinating, yet sadly overlooked life of vagrant Victorian poet Francis Thompson. We have found an amazing location for the movie, but as an independent company we lack the financial resources to give the project a truly authentic feel. Any money raised through these sites will enable us to buy or order period props and costumes. We don’t have a lot of time left, and that’s why I would like to ask everyone to donate or simply share this link or spread the word through any other means, because the more people hear about this, the more money we can raise. We are very grateful for any support! Thank you!

Here’s the link: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/an-avant-garde-biographical-movie

P.S. We are offering a range of cool rewards for our supporters ;)

Kensington Kiss (The Tube Poems)

This is a quick poem inspired by an experience at a tube station. I have written a similar one a few months ago (https://dommiesart.wordpress.com/2014/07/29/poem-ette-composed-in-a-tube-carriage/). Maybe I could start a series called The Tube Poems?

 

Tonight

I saw a couple

Kissing

Under the arcades

 

Of High Street Kensington.

Oddly, they were alone

In the otherwise always full

Station hall.

But this couple filled the arcades

with more love and warmth

Than the hundreds and thousands

who rush through from dusk to dawn.

The Tale of the Two Flowers

A gardener once planted

Two seeds of the same kind

Under a bush, side by side.

 

But he planted one in a spot

Shaded by the leaves,

While the other, an inch away,

Stood free under the sky.

 

So the selfsame sun

Lavished one with golden rays

While the other received nought

But a few stray beams

 

When spring came,

Two flowers sprang up from the seeds

But the one favoured by the sun

Grew tall and bright.

While the other became weak

And faint in the shade.

 

When their time came to release their seeds,

The tall flower was aided by the wind

And its seeds landed on fertile soil,

While the seeds of the smaller flower

Only encountered a feeble breeze

And fell on barren ground.

 

So one flower, admired by all,

Blooms in glory to this day,

While the other is but the prey of decay.

 

What is the moral of this tale?

Do not blame a flower

If it’s not tall enough,

For a flower cannot grow

If it’s hindered by circumstance.

Love (My Newest Painting)

This is my newest painting, entitled ‘Love’. It is a simple concept that has a lot of deeper meaning behind it. I chose a human heart instead of the typical heart shape as a representation of love because it expresses how love really is, as opposed to the fairy tale illusions that many of us have about it. Love is messy, not always beautiful, physical, always in motion, intense, and, despite all of this, vital for life.

 

LOVE