for anyone interested,
I'm offcially starting up a poetry blog - soulpouring :)
see you there :)
Icthus
Sunday, 16 May 2010
Wednesday, 12 May 2010
french oral :P
I had my french oral exam todayy!!
It was a rather nervewrecking experience, but in the end it went really well:D
And now I can't stop speaking french; when I'm in conversations with people, I keep throwing out ze occasional french words, and when I'm on my own I'm jsut speaking to myself in French!!
What a fun world zis is:D
J'ai dit a ma prof (pendant l'examen) que les mauvaises emissions sur la tele ne font qu'encourager l'immoralite et deverser de l'argent dans las poches du gouvernement :D
*honhehon* :)
(btw, sorry about the lack of accents - I'm not sure how to get them on this bloggg:P)
Alors, j'ai dit aussi que mon pere a decide de me couter de l'argent quand je ne range pas ma chambre; a mon avis ce n'est pas juste, puisque je suis la seule personne qui habite dans cette chambre, et ca m'est egale!!
Rightyho, off I go:)
Enjoy:)
Icthus
It was a rather nervewrecking experience, but in the end it went really well:D
And now I can't stop speaking french; when I'm in conversations with people, I keep throwing out ze occasional french words, and when I'm on my own I'm jsut speaking to myself in French!!
What a fun world zis is:D
J'ai dit a ma prof (pendant l'examen) que les mauvaises emissions sur la tele ne font qu'encourager l'immoralite et deverser de l'argent dans las poches du gouvernement :D
*honhehon* :)
(btw, sorry about the lack of accents - I'm not sure how to get them on this bloggg:P)
Alors, j'ai dit aussi que mon pere a decide de me couter de l'argent quand je ne range pas ma chambre; a mon avis ce n'est pas juste, puisque je suis la seule personne qui habite dans cette chambre, et ca m'est egale!!
Rightyho, off I go:)
Enjoy:)
Icthus
ode to a beautiful man :)
He is beautiful. Each line of his
etched face has been carved by my fingers;
I feel him now; soft and warm beneath
my skin. Deep in concentration, the
creases upon his forhead, and the hands
in rapid motion; writing, writing. His hands
move through his hair, and the sigh of a weary
day flows from his aching neck, his back, his
shoulders. He rubs his eyes with the balls of his
hands, and his exhaustion lets his wandering gaze
fall upon me. He is beautiful.
etched face has been carved by my fingers;
I feel him now; soft and warm beneath
my skin. Deep in concentration, the
creases upon his forhead, and the hands
in rapid motion; writing, writing. His hands
move through his hair, and the sigh of a weary
day flows from his aching neck, his back, his
shoulders. He rubs his eyes with the balls of his
hands, and his exhaustion lets his wandering gaze
fall upon me. He is beautiful.
Friday, 26 March 2010
Thursday, 25 March 2010
Autchwitz poem
through the streets the
children march. No laughter
tumbles from their lips. Deep-
wrought lines on broken faces;
no triumphant cry of war.
Only this last walk - this charge,
the final effort; all weakness
abandoned - thrown aside for
this one last charge.
facing the enemy eye to eye, nose
to nose they stand. Broken bodies
stand in order, each shot down
but standing tall.
Bodies rifled - no, not they. One
brave last stand has worked
up - forced - a dent, only small,
but a dent nonetheless, in the
gleaming armour of the enemy.
a dent; just a scratch of respect, for
these brother soldiers, standing tall.
Each shot down, but standing so tall.
Icthus
children march. No laughter
tumbles from their lips. Deep-
wrought lines on broken faces;
no triumphant cry of war.
Only this last walk - this charge,
the final effort; all weakness
abandoned - thrown aside for
this one last charge.
facing the enemy eye to eye, nose
to nose they stand. Broken bodies
stand in order, each shot down
but standing tall.
Bodies rifled - no, not they. One
brave last stand has worked
up - forced - a dent, only small,
but a dent nonetheless, in the
gleaming armour of the enemy.
a dent; just a scratch of respect, for
these brother soldiers, standing tall.
Each shot down, but standing so tall.
Icthus
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
Trip to Autchwitz
well, back from the trip to Autchwitz yesterday...thought you'd all like an account... :)
woke up at 4:00am, and left about 4:45am to get to the airport :O quite a jolt to the senses I have to say!
when we got off the plane and onto the coach, we went to a synagogue near the camps, and a rabbi showed us the synagogue itself, and read us a verse form the scroll containing the first 5 books of the Bible using the melody Jews are taught to use to read the Torah; it sounded so haunting and beautiful.
We then went to Autchwitz 1; Monowitz, which has been converted into a museum. We had a Polish guide, who was so matter of fact; I might in a way have preferred her to use more storytelling dialogue or something, to make me feel more part of the history. But when I think about it, perhaps that would have taken away from the sense of reality.
If I'm totally honest, I felt quite a bit less affected than anyone had predicted for me, or even that I had predicted for myself. When I think about it now, I believe that's because we weren't seeing the events themselves...
One of the only bits that actually really affected me was the huge display case of human hair that they had cut from women victims. They have actually decided now to leave the hair to break down naturally, instead of continuing to preserve it, so it all looks very similar, and almost like sheep wool, but there was one blonde ringlet, and I could see in my mind a little girl with curling blonde hair, robbed of life by the Nazis.
The other thing that really got me was a display cabinet of baby clothes and shoes. They were so tiny. I suppose you can imagine that adults could at least understand a little, or be clearer about what was going on, but to think of innocent children; two or three years old even, watching their parents die in front of them, and being led to death like lambs to the slaughter almost, is disgusting.
We moved on to Autchwitz 2; Birkenau, which is simply being preserved to look around. We walked through a few rooms, and saw the last ever preserved gas chamber. There's nothing in it now, since the Nazis used it for munitions storage later on (that's why it wasn't destroyed), but we could see the holes where the poisonous gas had been dropped down into the blocked off room. It made me feel wretched and sick, and I prayed for the people to have had at least quick passings.
The most tragic thing of all for me was that these people did not all even have a peaceful afterlife in Heaven. Those who carried on hardening their hearts against God never truly experienced real peace, and that is what causes my heart to rip into pieces.
We had a memorial service last thing, when dusk was falling. The Rabbi had chosen psalm 23 to read aloud, and some people read poems or extracts of survivors accounts. Then the Rabbi read in Hebrew (with the melody) a prayer for peace for the people affected by the Holocaust.
We all recieved candles, and we put them where we thought was best. I put mine with several others around some flowers our trip had put up as a memorial, but as we walked back in the growing darkness, people began to put their candles down by the railway track that had carted dead bodies to be burned, or frightened people on their way to the gas chambers.
What I thought the most most powerful of all was that there was a closed, sealed cart that had really been used to convey prisoners to the camp, which has been preserved over the years in a different country. And people took their burning candles, and put them around on this wagon; on the wheels and the sides, and looking back, I let myself stand there for a moment and watch the glowing candles shining softly on this weapon of murder. And I thought to myself; this is how we should repond; not with riots, shouting, screaming malice, but with soft, glowing, quiet signs of our respect, and our willingness to understand that we cannot understand, but our small, insignificant way of showing that we love these broken, emaciated, shattered people.
Icthus
He will be with us forever. "And I heard a loud voice from heaven saying, 'Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people. God Himself will be with them and be their God. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes, there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away." --Revelation 21:3-4
woke up at 4:00am, and left about 4:45am to get to the airport :O quite a jolt to the senses I have to say!
when we got off the plane and onto the coach, we went to a synagogue near the camps, and a rabbi showed us the synagogue itself, and read us a verse form the scroll containing the first 5 books of the Bible using the melody Jews are taught to use to read the Torah; it sounded so haunting and beautiful.
We then went to Autchwitz 1; Monowitz, which has been converted into a museum. We had a Polish guide, who was so matter of fact; I might in a way have preferred her to use more storytelling dialogue or something, to make me feel more part of the history. But when I think about it, perhaps that would have taken away from the sense of reality.
If I'm totally honest, I felt quite a bit less affected than anyone had predicted for me, or even that I had predicted for myself. When I think about it now, I believe that's because we weren't seeing the events themselves...
One of the only bits that actually really affected me was the huge display case of human hair that they had cut from women victims. They have actually decided now to leave the hair to break down naturally, instead of continuing to preserve it, so it all looks very similar, and almost like sheep wool, but there was one blonde ringlet, and I could see in my mind a little girl with curling blonde hair, robbed of life by the Nazis.
The other thing that really got me was a display cabinet of baby clothes and shoes. They were so tiny. I suppose you can imagine that adults could at least understand a little, or be clearer about what was going on, but to think of innocent children; two or three years old even, watching their parents die in front of them, and being led to death like lambs to the slaughter almost, is disgusting.
We moved on to Autchwitz 2; Birkenau, which is simply being preserved to look around. We walked through a few rooms, and saw the last ever preserved gas chamber. There's nothing in it now, since the Nazis used it for munitions storage later on (that's why it wasn't destroyed), but we could see the holes where the poisonous gas had been dropped down into the blocked off room. It made me feel wretched and sick, and I prayed for the people to have had at least quick passings.
The most tragic thing of all for me was that these people did not all even have a peaceful afterlife in Heaven. Those who carried on hardening their hearts against God never truly experienced real peace, and that is what causes my heart to rip into pieces.
We had a memorial service last thing, when dusk was falling. The Rabbi had chosen psalm 23 to read aloud, and some people read poems or extracts of survivors accounts. Then the Rabbi read in Hebrew (with the melody) a prayer for peace for the people affected by the Holocaust.
We all recieved candles, and we put them where we thought was best. I put mine with several others around some flowers our trip had put up as a memorial, but as we walked back in the growing darkness, people began to put their candles down by the railway track that had carted dead bodies to be burned, or frightened people on their way to the gas chambers.
What I thought the most most powerful of all was that there was a closed, sealed cart that had really been used to convey prisoners to the camp, which has been preserved over the years in a different country. And people took their burning candles, and put them around on this wagon; on the wheels and the sides, and looking back, I let myself stand there for a moment and watch the glowing candles shining softly on this weapon of murder. And I thought to myself; this is how we should repond; not with riots, shouting, screaming malice, but with soft, glowing, quiet signs of our respect, and our willingness to understand that we cannot understand, but our small, insignificant way of showing that we love these broken, emaciated, shattered people.
Icthus
He will be with us forever. "And I heard a loud voice from heaven saying, 'Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall be His people. God Himself will be with them and be their God. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes, there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away." --Revelation 21:3-4
Monday, 15 March 2010
poem
An empty thought caresses
the cloudless sky, breaking the stillness
and crossing the path to where cries
are unfelt, and memories unseen.
Purple clouds form on a grey horizon, and
blackness coats the resting earth.
Silently, silently, falling upon the darkened strip
of wilderness. Peaks of mountains pierce the
threatening sky and the heavens shed tears for the lost
soul who wanders the ground below.
Icthus
the cloudless sky, breaking the stillness
and crossing the path to where cries
are unfelt, and memories unseen.
Purple clouds form on a grey horizon, and
blackness coats the resting earth.
Silently, silently, falling upon the darkened strip
of wilderness. Peaks of mountains pierce the
threatening sky and the heavens shed tears for the lost
soul who wanders the ground below.
Icthus
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