a bee on my knee

one sweet little bee
sitting on my shaking knee
asking to marry me
to be his wife if i agree
a gift of fancy hive
full of sparkling honey
that will last for life
is his promise to me

so i tell him to flee
cause i' m not a good wife to be
i just want to be free
like a jumping flea
peeing everywhere with glee
here and there
on your head
and on your neck

please don't be sad sweet bee
but you'd better flee
for i don't like brewing coffee
for others but me
not even to a sweet handsome bee
i won't share any
not my coffee
not my tea

but he refuses to flee
and i' m unhappy to see
a bee on my knee
so never blame me
putting you as my top nominee
to be the anonymous dead body
under my feet you'd be
forever be
a dead jolly bee

i wish i could bury you,

the sickle who tears the night sky
and i wish i found you neatly sleep
under peter's tomb
all shall be doomed

to keep you quiet
-in silent mode-
completely mute
as  gentle frozen  dudes

for you know not to whisper
even in your prayers
you be the broken recorders
that chant the sham words of holy papers
kudos for the lordling over yonder

the crowd that slices the moon with sword
and worships it in a piece of shroud

2 a.m coffee

two a.m coffee
repeated shows on tv

the same stories
the old memories

faded pieces of herstory

memories once shared
now belonged to the ignorant night

tears and agony
blended in her coffee

coarse, black, bitterly honest

repetition of thought
went on smoldering for years
deeply buried beneath her fears

twas the time for her
to avow her thought

before another pot
of sorrow
be poured in to her tomorrow's show

for two from one

'tis with thorns i come to thee

a drop of poisoned coffee
sipped from ivy's toxic lips

a spoonful of 'monkshood' stew
for thine spirit to chew

sit still and be fully agree with me
if not be
        permanently my silent enemy
for thy victory is my enmity

ye! skinny!

enjoy this conspicuous conspiracy
the enormities endorsed by my toadies

nay!
no confetti in thine party





note:
one is #Jokowi
two is Prabowo
(indonesia's presidential election)

my poetry is about to leave

my poetry is about to leave
the paper will soon be empty

yet every syllable will forever linger
in the stanzas that hold them together

like chocolate
that holds the almond nuts

i'll keep my poetry well

in the clef of my heart she dwells

prayers and faith
be the sandwich on my plate

it's more than a heartbeat
a complete recital in one single beat

(the poetry that stays in my artery and my misery)

the assassin (2)

the nights bless her soul
grant her power to mock other souls
      she feels water like rivers
       flowing through her fingers
tonight, a pile of papers
will be soaked in blood
       the moon will be the only witness
       of a young heart with a grand lust
       to play god over the living dust
metal rifle, fuzzy trigger
bullets aimed on papers
      hit the ailing hearts
      of the losers
      of the loners

the assassin (1)

cold. as the tomb stone in winter
hungry dagger in her fingers
dancing on the souls, who surrender
to the tip of a pen
             (are words that slice
              the stanzas of life)

thousands of knives
stab into the bluish veins
fountains of blood burst
             (the narration of pains
              in the hand of the assassin
the mighty poet with her pens

dare you change the lines?
of such offense to your mind?

somewhere out there. a #poem for MH370

in the hollow of the sky
over the blue mountain high
you left that night
without a single goodbye

tears have run dry
to know things we don't understand
what was the real story?
the evil conspiracy or  that diabolic destiny?

we send prayers in cry
hope you still hang in there
somewhere in the blue
wish he'd grant you mighty wings
if not those magical fins
somewhere out there

poseidon, please don't lie
release them free
they deserve no adversity
stop writing the new chapter 
the story of your enmity
on their bodies

out there....

into the cerulean sea
the whole world desperately  seek
one little hope in the deep

where in the sea
you keep them custody?

the hand of time

the night fell on the lap of the dark
the flickering bulbs swayed slowly
playing with the black shadows
seemed like dancing under the mournful
composition of the midnight rain
   hands, crimson red. grope at his window
   screeching sounds of crooked nails
   filled his chamber with terror
   the hand of time started to write
   elegiac stanzas
   with ink bled from its finger nails
a complete mournful poetry was written
in the dark of the night
right there on his bare back
all the way through his chest
perpetuate his eternal sadness

in love with the breeze

i fall in love with the breeze
with the falling leaves
and the midnight bliss

would you come in the mist?
to my wildest wish
and keep me ablaze
with your magical kiss?

here i am standing in the haze
dating with the breeze
on the bed of the april leaves

signature of time

one single deep furrow
in the midst of thine brow
started to stay
a gentle mayday?
or a perfect fellow
for the hair turns grey?

a single confident line
who visited thee this morning
came with no warning
to stay and celebrate this life so fine

signature of the time
deeper than a well
longer than a mile
the great map of thine

carved in rhyme
by the hand of time
the poem thy can find
in thine awesome lines

celebrate

when the time's come
and you lay me down
down on the ground
i hope others found
the seeds i planted,  have fully grown

should  you mourn
     over my eternal dawn?
do you need to recount
     the time that bound?
weep no more
     for my soul belongs
     not to the sinful cont

when the time's finally come
to the boundless regions
of space, happiness and mercy
there you'd find me
in the land of free

celebrate
      celebrate

sweet memory

take me to the reverie
where rivers run free
and the sweet memory
dares to take off her lacy lingerie

in the valley of a quiet lee
a silent litany
between you, me
and the naked memory_
raised solemnly
to the gaieties
of the celebration of serenity

the celebration of sweet memory ...

lend me a mirror

lend me a mirror
to see the eyes
the eyes that stare me back
the eyes that see the sky
and the sky that looks her back

lend me a mirror
to find the face
the face that radiates the grace
the face that reflects her wishes
and  those wishes that will come true

lend me a mirror
to feel the lips
the lips that kiss her back
the lips that smile at me
and the smile that will appease this troubling peace

ma old lady

ma old lady lives in her own castle
where i don't want to come near_
speaks her own language
where positive adjectives
are barely there_
sings her own songs
never a lullaby that i long_
stands behind the dark shades of daylight
while knitting her own fear in her own colors_
her brittle soul
perfectly hidden under the thick snow
of december_
her cold cocky ego
yearns for warm hugs
and longs for sincere smiles
things she's never given to me_
things that now she wants so dear
(and it's just too late)_
alone she suffers in her castle
where i don't want to come any closer
bruises in her heart whisper one wish
  _love me,  ignore me never_
the little natty old lady
cold and lonely
her breath slips through her scarf
the scarf that strangles and chokes her silhouette_
a lonely soul weeping under the sound of the midnight's song

and i don't think i'll sing along_

death, be good

you'll be my tomorrow
my ultimate destination
believe me
i won't betray you
i won't run away from you
when the time's come
i'll be your bride

so, be good to me

you promise me
to be the cessation
of suffering and pain 

and i won't complain
just one plain quest

death,
be real patient with me
i really am not in a hurry
i'll be happy to stand in the last queue
in the last number of your list
so take your time
relax
have some coffee
take a stroll
fetch the others
before
you knock on my door

die

it won't beat you,
paul said
       i know,
       i won't argue
it's a gain
you said,
       i completely understand
 why cry in pain?
       keep your faith
       it would be a profit

would it be not?

poetry

things you write
while sitting under a tree
when falling leaves
kissing the breeze
and the green rice fields
be your bed of grief

but i would say

poetry is just words
created by unknown nerds
who write them on the aching hearts
then out print them on the crumpled souls
with ink of blood and tears

free verses
be read by freakish minds

no offense!

in the cold and lonely hallway

(picture by courtesy of Suzana Maria)

the smell of the past wafted

through the chilly hallway

it ambushed my mind

with dusty memories

painted in black and white

you felt some old limp spirits waddled

along the cold floor

their blackened tongues licked your ears

and whispered the darkest lie 

your hopes for the kind air dwindled

withered in the evening sky

you tried to shout for help

no one heard you

not even those wandering souls

gave you a damn

and the cold wind blew your hair

it played the hoary curtains

hanging on the wrecked ward's door

made a mock at your fear

as the air wailed in the emptiness

here,

in the old lonely hallway

that led you 

to the other side

...

a prayer

here Lord,
at the foot of the mountain
i pray for that little girl
little girl with hat of ashes and sandals of dust

Lord,
when life really treats her bad
and she falls to the ground
unable to see Your light
help my little girl to fight
for her faith, o Lord

may her tears lay the dust
from her agonized heart
though it's hard for her to trust
the mountain she used to cast
all her burden so vast

o Lord,
have mercy...
have mercy...

a girl with hat of ashes and sandals of dust

behind the dead bamboo trees
a little girl with hat of ashes, sandals of dust
peeping at the red bloody wound of the dawn
her crystal eyes unable to penetrate  her hope
unable to slice the dense grey smog
to find her dad and her mom
who went along with the dust
buried in the cleavage of rage
under the great fury of the earth
a little girl with hat of ashes and sandals of dust
sat in silence musing quietly to herself
when mt. sinabung was desirous
of making love to her village's land
his thundering breath blanketed the earth's life veins
leaving over the misery
gave birth  to a million pain
that devoured my little girl's dreams
all her hopes were covered
in the angry ashes of the mighty mountain
chewing and crashing her strength
till her wound and her misery complete... 

the guy who's always there

i've seen him since never
the guy with the dream face
who confidently dwells in my nights
and paralyses my time

i've known him since never
the guy who's always there
from my dusk to my dawn
and it never seems enough

so i'll stay awake for him tonight
and wait to see what's next

lone dancer

tell me about silence
about quiet spaces
where i can hear silent cadences
played by the single breath of mist

take me to the sparse peace
to the peaceful bliss
where the sky acquiesces to my ease
allowing me to dance with the breeze

come to my solitary party, my dear me
let's celebrate the lonesome wish
where nobody joins the glee
then i can enjoy this music of the deaf

all by myself

and that lil birdie
watches me dancing with the breeze
who doesn't preach
who doesn't teach...

breakfast

early breakfast
was delivered to me
on my table this morning
a plate of news
garnished with virgin's blood
dripping from her wounded heart
slowly i savored the food
(sigh) 

as i perused at the bloody news,

nine beasts just had a big party
over the body of 'marry'
one of them was member of an army
abducted her with no mercy
while she was kissing her honey

my eyes saw her sniveled
her tears and her fears
were on my plate this morning
my hands trembled
my heart was very much nettled
i felt hurricane was brewing
in my head
spinning and twirling
and it made  me mad


how many flowers must wither
and let go her petals
in the hands of abusive boozers
how many vestals more...

Lord ???
how many...


 

confession

dark clouds
hanging over
the damp yard
listlessly watching

two souls
sat
on the wet wooden bench
talked without words
blood in their eyes

asudden,
her blade tore the silence
sliced his stony chest
with her hollowed eyes

"loving you is so diabolical
my favorite mistake
i've ever made"
she finally said

and as the darkness embraced
the bleeding void in her breast
she gave birth to the sultry night
and her breath was the only gift
she had for the dying heart

meanwhile
the dark clouds
hanging over
this damp yard
one more time...

rhyme

you give me ease
and make me giggle

when you tease
when you tickle
        to my ears...

you sway me in
and move me out
           in and out...

you are musical
you are memorable

not just mere echos
but words with egos

accented syllables
near or partial

wacky
but lovely

and
i fall in love with you
when i see you
sit nicely at the end
of graceful lines

and you tease
and you tickle
          my ears...