my dream last night

last night I met a chocolatier in my dream
he came with a box of peppermint chocolates cut in prim
we talked under the moon with nobody in between
chocolate souffle and caramelized  praline
perfect match for  two cups of mocha cream

twas a good time under the lantern's gleam
till the the silver moon light grew dim
and the chocolatier gone in the beam

to c.a my prisoner

i won't say sorry
to witness you being tethered  with spiky chains
there under the strongest tree at the end of the lane

watching you starving is the greatest things
in this solemn christmas evening
all must be changed
no ones is mourning

she brings malicious entities
that creep in my nerves
who expell vicious chant of nasty verse
broken poetry of the worst
a frenzy of destruction directed at my  chest by her curse

yet, i ain't a timid milquetoast
i could torture you back, it ain't just a boast
to me she's just a limp warmonger
could expand the empire through brute force no longer
neither to enslave, plunder and devastate  the land around her, poisoner!
i won't let you acquire wealth and power, prisoner!

so there she is tethered with spiky chains
under the strongest tree at the end of the  lane
never touch this christmas with your cancerous grains
i won't let her reign

especially in this christmas evening

you are a poet

you are a poet, sister
let not grief come out from your fingers
trust your heart, trust the love that lingers
there lies our futures

solid nodules, malicious nodes
aren't they just names we know?
let them sit yet we lead
and we are the one who clog the bleed

hand in hand we beat this doomed wad
it belongs to brittle heart
not you, cause you are a poet sister
your life is indeed a classy belleslettre

let not anything enervate your pen
till we reach the promising land
where tears and sorrow end
where joy and happiness blend

c.a

if i can't turn you to be my foe
i'll neither let you be my woe
you may woo me to blue
but nay i never agree with you

you may sit you may breed
i won't keep you a secret
though you live under the culvert
but never touch this placid spirit

second date #chemopoetry

the night was young
and the nice romantic song was sung

we were ready for the fancy dine
table for two
candlelight dinner
poutage du jour

and he served amanita phalloides soup!
straight to my lymph nodes
from head to toe
hypnotized me in a second or two

was he a good fellow?
a bedfellow or a playfellow?
why he seemed like a red diablo?
playing his violoncello
and smiled like a gigolo

first date #chemopoetry

looking back at my first date
with mr. che the great
it was a fancy night
i was dearly excited
sail straight when the rough wind abated

we started at eight
how funny it was like a cabaret
i remembered wearing my best georgette
and you held me tight
tonight i was your marionette
and we played piquet...
then dance till we sweat...

you must think i was a coquette
luring mr. che the potentate
i tried to recite my couplet
while eating your bitter soup and chewing the 'breton galette'

well after all
it wasn't bad at all

there in the large cottage
we exchanged calumet

she ain't my twins

four major cores are seen
five fragments in the tissues are considered mean
high grade infiltrating carcinoma is vigorously in the canteen!

she declares to be my twins
with none in between
what a pity she's only a figurine
been working so hard behind the scenes, literary unseen

i've made her pale as naphthalene
as for me she isn't my twins;
a wolverine  robbing my healthy sheen
yet I believe my cheeks are still pink as a rosy queen -
playing tambourines at her sweet seventeen

and she'll only living like a broken submarine
busy cooking her cuisines
in her tiny leaky pannikin
the old mean gombeen thinks she's the gangrene

i laugh out loud for i am the one who'll eat her like a margarine
she'll be paralyzed and stay in the palankeen
watching me preen like a sweet robin

walk with me, friend...

may i lend you a hand, friend?
to chase the mongrel out of your pen
and to unleash the power from your hands?

let us not see
the skin that wrinkled
the nails that blackened
and the hair that fallen

let us walk in this jungle so dense
lit up the spirit of peace of mind
i know this jungle hides the golden rays to shine
but all we need is just  a single candle hope of our minds

let me hold your hands, friends
we wear the same shoes till the end
let us dance while walking through  this  poisonous  land
i promise you a happy end
the victorious spirit of our minds

searching words that soothe you well

under the silky scarf of my head
beyond the trembling raft in my heart
and from the troubling thoughts
thousands of words were sought

words that tell and yell
words that explain well
as aggressive malignant tumors expell
its carcinoma's swell
they would  multiply and metastatic wherever they dwell
killing all cells and swell
to the extend you ne'er know to tell

words with power louder than cancerous bells
ringing rigorously under your wishing well
sending echoes to the world of ne'er do well
like thousands of pipistrelle
racing out from hell
as well as pimpernel blooms in the soil  that compels

with the words of the nobel
i wish to mend all the broken vessel
to heal the aching soul well
words that ain't repel
from me your little mistrel

let me contemplate

i need to contemplate
but neither at six
nor even till eight
why do you need to yell
if he understands  even before you tell

i need to contemplate
but give me a space
in your prayers' maze
i shall bow my soul down
before he comes at dawn

let me contemplate
let your prayers be great
before it's too late
before he sets the date
and carries my soul to heaven's gate

last date #chemo poetry

fifth date

our fifth date wasn't that great
it was a total failure in the first place
nothing was special. i hope it wasn't too late
to end this bloody cancerous maze

(mr che don't you see?
i think we aren't meant for each other,are we?)

never thought that you made me craving
at the sable liqueurs  you bring
you said it was great to cleanse this poor soul
so you hung it on the dancing pole

(mr che you are wrong,
i say this relationship won't last long)

you pinned that silver nail to my vein
invaded my blood from my toes to my brain
while i was quietly weaving a revenge
to my dearest mr.  chemo the black mange


sixth date

i smell death all around this chamber
i was lying there and you just stood at the corner
the shows on tv were as nuisance as mating mosquitoes
they were dancing as if i weren't looking

my head kept on spinning, thinking of that sweet moment;
the time when this cycle of torment  ends
the six-time-date that crushes my bones paralyzes my brain
and fills my framework with poison that exhausts my mind

no more dates with mr.  che the bloody guy
i dumped him today before the moon left the night sky
saying goodbye was the greatest thing i felt
"savor more of this exquisite liqueur " you said
but i chose to leave you forever with no regret

Sept'15

fourth date with mr. chemo #chemopoetry

here we go again mr. chemo
our fourth date should be as great
as those bottles of sable champagne
standing next to the engagement ring
you bring

i guess  it's the perfect excuse
to get sloshed on expensive plonk
to cleanse my stiffening veins
don't  you think mr. wrong?

let's pop the cork dear mr. chemo
are we going to have a party
or to recite a false poetry?
i'd rather have a bubbly date
but this time, you pay the memo

third date with mr. che #chemopoetry

yesterday was a great momento
twas my third date with mr. chemo
two bottles of black wine
completed the fine dine

exquisite liquid served
diluted into my veins
crept up my nerves
frozen my brain

mr. chemo, mr. chemo
wears no tuxedo rides no limo
ready with bottles of black wine
and i shan't whine
for the taste of the wine
always difficult to comprehend

the fourth momento
is about to come before agusto
but damned mr. chemo
keeps forgeting to pay the memo

coffee no more

i used to write my story,
in my coffee
i used to paint my dream,
on the clouds of its cream

now the cup is upside down
roasted  beans seem to frown
what's to brew if it's too blue?
it seems that my coffee gives no clue

four and forty

four and forty to be
i think i've enough to see
how's the glorious mr. time
badly cheating with ms. destiny

four and forty to be
i've tasted sorrow and misery
i've seen tears been shed
in the mid of those brittle breath

four and forty to be
angel of death looks so pretty
proposes me with sweet lilly
releases me from agony?

four and forty to be
i think i disagree

the blessed fountain

the hands of the creator
are carving a great sculpture
out of the lump in my breast
a sculpture of fountain will burst
and i shall call it the fountain of zest
where any angels may rest
and taste the water of fest

here,
underneath the fountain of zest
let all be blessed
and i shall rejoice with no fear
for his promise is crystal clear

"I will never forsake you"
and i know, its true...

end of april #poem #againstdeathpenalty

he granted no second chance
for the condemned men
i guess the sire's just unable to find
or perhaps he's completely blind
(what a pity the sire failed to see)

how the almighty
blesses him with abundant mercy
made him the great man he's meant to be

but who are we to disagree
with the sire of destiny

#againstdeathpenalty
#saynotocapital punishment

coffee tought

he likes it sour
she likes it bitter
when the two meet at the coffee table
they wont let it mingle

(he chooses arabian gals
she prefers robust guys)

so they let the stirrer
freeze in their fingers
stand stiff as fuzzy rifles
in the hands of raging soldiers

and as things go sideways
they choose the happy ways
just like railways...
side by side perfectly abreast
never depart yet forever apart

surrender never

with this black ink
i wash my pain
bold and plain

and the beauty sinks
into this crater of cancerous grains
cold as marble saints

though i stand under the faded moon
with palms open to the dripping wounds
i surrender never to the gloom

dead is fine #poem-against #indonesia'sdeathpenalty

dead is fine
isn't it mr. president?
so you decide mine
cause dead, is fun

(you said, my life's a diabolical altar
nights with no stars
filthy offerings i've burnt so far

my life's a haunting shadow
beleaguers young souls that follow
leads them to the darkest hollow)

so in your hands my hellish life shall end

(dawn isn't far behind these bars
to his altar i rush to bow
before the lines of his 'algojo'
who'd send me to the only place (you) they know
               to the bottom of the hell
               there, forever i shall dwell)

so mr. president will glow
proud as a new hero...

happy clean up mr. president
be ready to be dirty
the ashes and the rest of the mess
that i've left on your altar
they'd be the confetti for your party



*algojo = executioner


#deathpenalty
#balinine