Merry Christmas!
Season's greetings to all fans, loyal readers and supporters of my blog out there! Hope this Christmas is a wonderful one for you and have a happy new year ahead!
To those who had been there at my performances, THANK YOU so0 much, really appreciate your time and your support. Hugzzz :)
Take care and God bless!
Ben
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Monday, December 20, 2004
Dear all,
it's the time of the year again to share some holiday cheer and bring out the Christmas spirit of joy and hope. For you music lovers and a cappella fans out there, here's a lineup of christmas caroling for your entertainment pleasure.
18 Dec (Sat)
2:30pm - Consonance @ Harbourfront
5:00pm - Notations @ Bugis Junction
19 Dec (Sun)
5:00pm - Notations @ Bugis Junction
20 Dec (Mon)
6:30pm - Notations @ Bugis Junction
21 Dec (Tue)
2:00pm - Consonance @ Harbourfront
6:30pm - Notations @ Bugis Junction
22 Dec (Wed)
6:30pm - Notations @ Bugis Junction
8:00pm - Consonance @ Esplanade Concourse
23 Dec (Thu)
2:00pm - Consonance @ Harbourfront
6:30pm - Notations @ Bugis Junction
8:00pm - Consonance @ Esplanade Concourse
Hope to see you there! Merry Christmas!
it's the time of the year again to share some holiday cheer and bring out the Christmas spirit of joy and hope. For you music lovers and a cappella fans out there, here's a lineup of christmas caroling for your entertainment pleasure.
18 Dec (Sat)
2:30pm - Consonance @ Harbourfront
5:00pm - Notations @ Bugis Junction
19 Dec (Sun)
5:00pm - Notations @ Bugis Junction
20 Dec (Mon)
6:30pm - Notations @ Bugis Junction
21 Dec (Tue)
2:00pm - Consonance @ Harbourfront
6:30pm - Notations @ Bugis Junction
22 Dec (Wed)
6:30pm - Notations @ Bugis Junction
8:00pm - Consonance @ Esplanade Concourse
23 Dec (Thu)
2:00pm - Consonance @ Harbourfront
6:30pm - Notations @ Bugis Junction
8:00pm - Consonance @ Esplanade Concourse
Hope to see you there! Merry Christmas!
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
december storm raining down my neck
with all the shelves of absorbent counterpoints
of refrains in the multitude of clustered jingles
specked in daylight fritters joined by choruses
of mountainous debris of time
Listening to the rhythm of the echoes
in the walls of my overworked heart
seems like the endless war of the
good and evil that forever fractures the world
and punctures the fervent soul of cosmic revolution
with all the shelves of absorbent counterpoints
of refrains in the multitude of clustered jingles
specked in daylight fritters joined by choruses
of mountainous debris of time
Listening to the rhythm of the echoes
in the walls of my overworked heart
seems like the endless war of the
good and evil that forever fractures the world
and punctures the fervent soul of cosmic revolution
Monday, November 29, 2004
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Danny Boy
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
from glen to glen and down the mountain side;
the summer's gone and all the roses falling
'tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
and I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy I love you so.
And when ye come and all the flow'rs are dying,
and I am dead, as dead I well may be.
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying
and kneel and say an 'ave' there for me.
And I shall hear tho' soft you tread above me,
and all my grave will warmer sweeter be,
for you will bend and tell me that you love me,
and I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.
Oh, Danny boy, Oh, Danny boy
I love you so.
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
from glen to glen and down the mountain side;
the summer's gone and all the roses falling
'tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
and I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy I love you so.
And when ye come and all the flow'rs are dying,
and I am dead, as dead I well may be.
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying
and kneel and say an 'ave' there for me.
And I shall hear tho' soft you tread above me,
and all my grave will warmer sweeter be,
for you will bend and tell me that you love me,
and I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.
Oh, Danny boy, Oh, Danny boy
I love you so.
Friday, October 22, 2004
Jazz & Coffee
effacing the claws of steel
in the hearts of stone
will be the brew of authentic brubeck
with jiving auroma from dancing ivories
on a fine walking bass line
watered down by the oh-so-swell smell
of the beans from the carribean
that neither saints nor monks could resist
the need to indulge and submerge thyself
into the sheer pleasure of soaking up every note
of the life's undoubtedly riveting potion of joy
that jazz and coffee bring to mankind
effacing the claws of steel
in the hearts of stone
will be the brew of authentic brubeck
with jiving auroma from dancing ivories
on a fine walking bass line
watered down by the oh-so-swell smell
of the beans from the carribean
that neither saints nor monks could resist
the need to indulge and submerge thyself
into the sheer pleasure of soaking up every note
of the life's undoubtedly riveting potion of joy
that jazz and coffee bring to mankind
Friday, October 08, 2004
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Crumbs
~~~~~~~~~~
An ode to the lowly lifeforms
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
the
crumbs
of yesterday
and tomorrow
they fill my sorry life
need I elaborate more?
we live, eat, breathe them
and they are what sustains us
not the banquets or feasts of aristocracy
nor the lavish silverwear of the princes and kings
but we live on the left over bits and pieces of apple crumble
that fell to the pits of morality's tumbler with a faint and subtle
rumble that bubbles into nothingness when the winds flutter by the
sad sorrowful window panes of my weary and exhuasted mental faculty
Monday, September 27, 2004
Double Trouble
Adapted from Shakespeare's Macbeth
for ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Something wicked this way comes.
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Something wicked this way comes.
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Fillet of a fenny snake,
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy, maw and gulf.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble,
Something wicked this way comes.
Adapted from Shakespeare's Macbeth
for ‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Something wicked this way comes.
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Something wicked this way comes.
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Fillet of a fenny snake,
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy, maw and gulf.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble,
Something wicked this way comes.
Sunday, September 26, 2004
Miraculously, I can blog again,
God knows what has happened to my computer,
it has healed itself.
But thank God,
I am able to pen (electronically) my thoughts again,
and indulge in verbal diarrhoea!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Today is a good day!
The sun is not shining,
but it's cool and a little misty,
makes it feel like Christmas,
did I say Christmas?
Well mooncake festival is round the corner,
and after while, Christmas will be here,
And yes,
it's gonna be the most hectic time of year for me,
but I'm not complaining, coz
I LURVE my job =)
That's all for now,
Will be back for more
VERBAL DIARRHOEA!
Stay tuned!
God knows what has happened to my computer,
it has healed itself.
But thank God,
I am able to pen (electronically) my thoughts again,
and indulge in verbal diarrhoea!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Today is a good day!
The sun is not shining,
but it's cool and a little misty,
makes it feel like Christmas,
did I say Christmas?
Well mooncake festival is round the corner,
and after while, Christmas will be here,
And yes,
it's gonna be the most hectic time of year for me,
but I'm not complaining, coz
I LURVE my job =)
That's all for now,
Will be back for more
VERBAL DIARRHOEA!
Stay tuned!
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
A Fool's Lament
White waters rage in the mid autumn whispers
Steals the bread away from me.
Do I dare ask for an apple?
If Icarus didn't know
what tragedies would befall him
How can I know when not to
step on a piece of stone?
The dove dives low but misses the worm,
The hand ceases no wrong sandals puts them on.
But the feet feels no ground beneath them
tramples onpulling the roots out of the soil,
Massacred bushes yell in the wilderness
Grouching tigers mourn
for the moon swallowed the sun
The limping fox staggers in the eyes of its prey
Feeling numbed and terrified of terrific tremors in its
Underground veins
White waters still rage in the mid autumn whispers
The clock ticks...
Wells dry up
Copyright ©2004 Benedict Goh
White waters rage in the mid autumn whispers
Steals the bread away from me.
Do I dare ask for an apple?
If Icarus didn't know
what tragedies would befall him
How can I know when not to
step on a piece of stone?
The dove dives low but misses the worm,
The hand ceases no wrong sandals puts them on.
But the feet feels no ground beneath them
tramples onpulling the roots out of the soil,
Massacred bushes yell in the wilderness
Grouching tigers mourn
for the moon swallowed the sun
The limping fox staggers in the eyes of its prey
Feeling numbed and terrified of terrific tremors in its
Underground veins
White waters still rage in the mid autumn whispers
The clock ticks...
Wells dry up
Copyright ©2004 Benedict Goh
Saturday, August 14, 2004
Friday, August 13, 2004
When the Sun Sets Again
When the sun sets again
And the night like a victorious serpent
Consumes the sky
Extinguishing the blaze of day
I travel the lonesome road of reminiscence
Remorse reverberates in the wells of untold misery
I sink
Freely
Into the pit of anxiety
Closing in on me
Are the claws of conscience
Gobblins of reason and irrationality
Eating into the recesses of my battered soul
Every minute
Until the moon is down
Copyright(c)2004 Benedict Goh
When the sun sets again
And the night like a victorious serpent
Consumes the sky
Extinguishing the blaze of day
I travel the lonesome road of reminiscence
Remorse reverberates in the wells of untold misery
I sink
Freely
Into the pit of anxiety
Closing in on me
Are the claws of conscience
Gobblins of reason and irrationality
Eating into the recesses of my battered soul
Every minute
Until the moon is down
Copyright(c)2004 Benedict Goh
Monday, August 09, 2004
Monday, July 26, 2004
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Thursday, July 01, 2004
Monday, June 28, 2004
Perhaps
Perhaps stars are just whispers
blown away by lonesome hearts
Perhaps wind is just a whimper
of an old quiet bard
Perhaps sunlight is a golden broom
that sweeps the dusty doors of time
and winter is but a requiem
that ring in old London town
Perhaps sand is all our memories
that steals across our dreamy lives
Perhaps seas are only tides of change
that cleanse our souls of dust
Copyright©2004 Benedict Goh
Perhaps stars are just whispers
blown away by lonesome hearts
Perhaps wind is just a whimper
of an old quiet bard
Perhaps sunlight is a golden broom
that sweeps the dusty doors of time
and winter is but a requiem
that ring in old London town
Perhaps sand is all our memories
that steals across our dreamy lives
Perhaps seas are only tides of change
that cleanse our souls of dust
Copyright©2004 Benedict Goh
Friday, June 25, 2004
Sunday, June 20, 2004
been there, on the high road
now sinking low
on a rocky boat
isn't it a fallacy
to believe in tomorrow
where you don't even know
what day it is now?
been there, doing the same
old usual mundane packing
of wasted dreams in a sleepless
jungle of untamed lunacy
float, float away
on a funnel of
subway cigarette smoke
now sinking low
on a rocky boat
isn't it a fallacy
to believe in tomorrow
where you don't even know
what day it is now?
been there, doing the same
old usual mundane packing
of wasted dreams in a sleepless
jungle of untamed lunacy
float, float away
on a funnel of
subway cigarette smoke
Saturday, June 05, 2004
when ever a cloud
appears to consume
the sapphire sky
the winds will chime
with vigour and pride
the dawn of the storm
the rise of the tide
then rain will come
like pharoah's horses
upon the earth
washing all dirt
on every flower
when that is gone
the birds will sing
their joyful song
of new beginnings
and a bright new morn
across the heavens
the throng of light
will give all life
a rainbow bright
appears to consume
the sapphire sky
the winds will chime
with vigour and pride
the dawn of the storm
the rise of the tide
then rain will come
like pharoah's horses
upon the earth
washing all dirt
on every flower
when that is gone
the birds will sing
their joyful song
of new beginnings
and a bright new morn
across the heavens
the throng of light
will give all life
a rainbow bright
Friday, June 04, 2004
Monday, May 31, 2004
Saturday, May 29, 2004
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
The whirlwinds of living never beats any faster
levelling all sparkle of this mundane world
before sunsets of the heart starts to trickle
there is not a single drop of wonderment left
or any flicker of the weak flame of the mind's eye
battered, bruised and blistered
are the frames of disconcerted spirits.
losing its line of sight
quickly
in
eternity
levelling all sparkle of this mundane world
before sunsets of the heart starts to trickle
there is not a single drop of wonderment left
or any flicker of the weak flame of the mind's eye
battered, bruised and blistered
are the frames of disconcerted spirits.
losing its line of sight
quickly
in
eternity
Monday, May 24, 2004
Thursday, May 20, 2004
Syncopated Subversion
Prevailing in a non-sequential absentia
the pillar of boredom throws daggers of dementia
that splits the vaults of prudent jocularity
into funnels of raging immorality
subjectivity is flung out of the window
by flippant throngs of anti-gravity disability
guarded frustrations battle the sheer forceful freudian impulses
that consume and ravage the naked truths of human frailty
Prevailing in a non-sequential absentia
the pillar of boredom throws daggers of dementia
that splits the vaults of prudent jocularity
into funnels of raging immorality
subjectivity is flung out of the window
by flippant throngs of anti-gravity disability
guarded frustrations battle the sheer forceful freudian impulses
that consume and ravage the naked truths of human frailty
Saturday, May 15, 2004
Constipated Entanglements of Neurological Impediment
contaminated filters of the mental faculty
cannot resolve the weight of improportional injustices
clouding in the sphere of crashed crumpled indecisiveness
only the withered battered laundry of sorrows
could enclose the wounds of yesterday's beer bottles
contaminated filters of the mental faculty
cannot resolve the weight of improportional injustices
clouding in the sphere of crashed crumpled indecisiveness
only the withered battered laundry of sorrows
could enclose the wounds of yesterday's beer bottles
Friday, May 14, 2004
it's just another day today
so is yesterday
and the day before yesterday
and the day before the day before yesterday
and so is tomorrow
and the day after tomorrow
and the day after the day after tomorrow
in a nutshell it's a day
which is like any other day
and you'd say
it's not fun anyway
because it's not gay
which maybe here to stay
or go away
in a distant way
that might sway
with dismay
to skies of grey
come what may
stacks of hay
may just be a ray
of light on a bay
which i pray
today
in this month of May
that things will be gay
so is yesterday
and the day before yesterday
and the day before the day before yesterday
and so is tomorrow
and the day after tomorrow
and the day after the day after tomorrow
in a nutshell it's a day
which is like any other day
and you'd say
it's not fun anyway
because it's not gay
which maybe here to stay
or go away
in a distant way
that might sway
with dismay
to skies of grey
come what may
stacks of hay
may just be a ray
of light on a bay
which i pray
today
in this month of May
that things will be gay
Sunday, May 09, 2004
Friday, May 07, 2004
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
Saturday, May 01, 2004
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
Thursday, January 22, 2004
The Strings of Silence
Listening
reason starts to float into
the ballads of dancing notes
played on strings of forgotten resting place
brothers of dangling sparks of firewood
clings wistfully on brooks of spring
Yonder, lies bedtime stories
distant bells that chime of worries
that sink into immortal remembrance
Fading
Listening
reason starts to float into
the ballads of dancing notes
played on strings of forgotten resting place
brothers of dangling sparks of firewood
clings wistfully on brooks of spring
Yonder, lies bedtime stories
distant bells that chime of worries
that sink into immortal remembrance
Fading
Friday, January 09, 2004
Sunday, January 04, 2004
Blemished Blasphemy
Blaming the black bleak sky
For taunting us with rain
Reinserting irrational bullshit
Into the red rusty rumours of yore
Colouring the crimson crowns of creased crutches
In the windows of mentality
Freeing the forceful fiery frost of the gruelling gambles
In eternity’s redefined predisposition
Aimless extrapolations juxtaposed with torn tenacity in premature perceptions
Cling on to mortality
Blaming the black bleak sky
For taunting us with rain
Reinserting irrational bullshit
Into the red rusty rumours of yore
Colouring the crimson crowns of creased crutches
In the windows of mentality
Freeing the forceful fiery frost of the gruelling gambles
In eternity’s redefined predisposition
Aimless extrapolations juxtaposed with torn tenacity in premature perceptions
Cling on to mortality
Friday, January 02, 2004
The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20
by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20
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