RJC Applicants for CAP 2007!!1@!

Hi peeps,

Some of us did a bit of poking around on the website for the Creative Arts Programme and found out that to apply, we not only need to send in our hard-copies with a Letter of Undertaking (via Ms Alethea Lim) but also submit an online application form. Contacted Ms Lim about it - she's not too sure but says we should sign up first anyways.

Submission of online applications is 2 April 2007.

The Online form can be found here: http://www.gebsp.moe.gov.sg/CAP/Forms/RegistrationForm.aspx?type=jc

The CAP Website:
http://www.gebsp.moe.gov.sg/CAP/index.htm

happy registering,
<3 pos3rs

yayness

there is a tree that stands big and tall and deep in the city
far from the rest of the living
and when the wind blows
its little leaves come raining down
like little tear drops
and the others everyday cry out
saying won't you come back
when will it be

But the little green leaf on the branch is fading
and one day she too will fall
brown and plummeting and splashing
upon the earth

Yet for now she clings
knowing it matters not
how fast she falls
but how long she lasts
in the city
upon the branches
there will be five leaves
then four
then three
then two
then one
then

// finally a piece written this year. about the big tree outside rj D: oh but welcome back bing!!

Only a bowl of fruits on the glass table top. Strange, I don't remember those we drew for art in primary school as being cut into neat geometric shapes. Still life always contained within it the shady hints of motion. A dry silence, although noise is just a click away. I am trying desperately to feel, but I doubt anything here can teach me how to. What would I find if I were to trace the history of this living room? I imagine myself to be inside a portrait on the wall, watching everything that has taken place in this inhabited space. What joy was born within these walls, what lively conversations made, what memories left behind? Or did the only human touch here belong to a man watching his TV with a bag of peanuts, or to a dinner for a family who watched the food more than each other? The fruits, again. I am about to take one more piece when an itch begins to form above my left brow; I scratch it furiously.

In a long time

Then there are the simpler questions, such as, what do I live for? And I could offer plenty of answers, but each would prompt me to search for another one. So I avoid the question, all the while wondering if it's even worth asking. Ideals? They are as firm as water. Hopes die young; new ones are awoken as quickly as night touches day. Dreams are better hidden away, savoured alone. It's not that I like being caught up in such generalizations and empty philosophies, it's just that sometimes in, in desperation, I have to reach for the simplest explanations I can find. I don't have the courage to admit to myself that I look for reasons to live mainly for comfort, to quell the rowdy regrets in my chest; maybe all we need to do is stay beautifully alive, or maybe it's not a question of what, but who.


--

Seems I died and came back. Giving up the poetry - all style and no feeling. Time to focus on what I really need to say. Regards, B.