There’s orange swirling
In the west brink, and yellow
Beautifying dark.


welcomed by the beauty of twilight — as orange as the robes of bikhus who are chanting mantras welcoming Vesak Day

good evening, dear Self

The Path

Passed the crossroad;
Grasses are greener,
Flowers are prettier,
Breeze is thinner,
Morning is fresher,
Day is busier,
Night is calmer,
Birds are happier,
Cicadas are louder,
Fireflies are brighter,
No snake, no crocodile, no tiger.
Passers-by smile at each other
With neither pride nor prejudice.
End is farther,
It doesn’t matter.

It’s a low key path
After a detour from a glowing avenue.

She is humming the softest beauty with light breathing while celebrating the richness of abundant blessings.

No other ways are nicer.


Campuhan Ridge Walk 🥰


Dear, oh
You came from
Destroying my scores!

No wonder the soundtrack of my stories
Became messy.

Go eat fish,
My sheets won’t suffice your belly.

Cat has no logic,
Only fun.


i used to live with a rescue cat, i named him Bob; he was more interested in tearing my paper apart or sitting on my laptop to playing with his toy or sleeping on my bed 💝

Bob in his dream of being my boss 😁 back in 2010

may all beings be happy 🙏🏼

Love Traveling Through Time

Within a radius
Love is felt.
There’s a radius
Made of meters.
She knows a radius
Made of years
That still pulsates
In the heart of this lover
Longing for rendezvous
That will have arrived
Right after the waves shorten.

Your fragrant name is
Blooming every second
In all lovers’ hearts.

Dear, all bezels of wisdom.
I blow kisses for you.



Magical Days

Today I saw magic
Warmly greeted my throbbing head.
“How deep is your love?” Said she.
“To whom?” Asked I.
“Does it matter?” Said she.
And so I was magically charmed
By these heart beats
Chanting a repeated naive rhyme
About how nice I’ve been breathing.


only those who know the death is just an inch away can do this wholeheartedly 💝

Between Two Times

Once upon a time
A seed turned to a fruit
In between two times.
It celebrated its confusion
Of losing itself in every phase.
Why am I soft, while
I was hard?
Why am I hanging, while
I was buried?
Why can’t I remember where
I came from?
How can I know which
Is the truest of me?
The fruit ripened in blue
Fell out weathered.
Seeds scattered
Grew taller.
Would the seed forget who she was again?

Once upon a time
A tree remembered who
Greeted the boughs
Harvested the best
Celebrated the flesh
Threw away the seeds who then
It was not an expression of “once again”
Not the same seed
Yet the seed
Of the same tree.
Still the same—

No mourning
Nothing is lost, yet
Nothing is forever.
Knowing is time travel or
A review of history or
A humble diary.
Just wait for one moment to see.
Life is just like that.


from Pinterest

Peeling Onion

How strong?
As strong as money
Which can buy travel vouchers for holiday
And it helps draw long list of visited sites;
A list that shows to the world
That experience comes with style.
Unfortunately some might be just albums of photos with forgotten moment and lost meaning.
Still travelers travel farther than homebody
Who stays in front of TV learning about all countries,
Yet more thoroughly and vibrantly
Even able to write vibrantly. Look at Karl May!
You mean to understand different places
Doesn’t need real traveling?
Might be?
So what’s the strength of money?
Aah! Not that strong in fact.
It is still strong.
Not the strongest though!
Is money a lethal weapon?
I know not, said I,
I know not.

How weak?
As weak as fibrous roots
Which can’t give trees strong anchorage
And they give little supplies of food to the deep interior.
Yet fibrous roots don’t destroy building foundation.
Fibrous roots are good for sloping area,
They help prevent soil erosion.
They are not weak.
At least not that weak!
Are fibrous roots the weakest anchor?
I know not, said I,
I know not.

Aah! Cry, cry
For losing the stance.
Let the tears dry.
Let each layer dry,
When it dries, it is becoming skin
Until all are.

It is just like that
Like peeling onion.


from Pinteres

No Cure (Ibn ‘Arabi)

Without him I die
and with him’s no better
With or without him
longing’s the same

I found him, finding
what I hadn’t foreseen,
the cure and disease
as equal fevers

His silhouette flares
as we draw near
each other and
burns more proud

The deeper the harmony
the sharper the pain
Measure for measure
as decreed


The above is poem excerpted from below book — one that well explains how love consumes good soul. By simply loving life has shown what joy and pain can be perceived as either happiness or unhappiness depending on how deep or how true love is given meaning or taken for granted.

It has taken me quite long journey to finally connect the dots among the manifestation of love, pain, joy, harmony. It takes whole life to refine love and it takes big love to refine life — a vicious circle that keeps the fire burns, light flares and smoke billows bringing hope up to the sky.

“Life is light. Life is true.”

May all beings be happy.


Tarjuman Al-ashwaq (The Translator of Desires)

Truly Light Life

How much am I true
To this self?
As true as
The pretty
And the ugly
In me
In front of mirrors
What they love to see.
Life is light.
Light is true.

To this self do I say:
Walk truly as true as white clouds hanging over green trees.
Walk lightly as light as foot steps on green grass.


i stole my photo from an Instagram story of someone who secretly took my photo before the Tapa Brata started — i am not a truly physically good photo model but i am a human being making effort to be true ♥️ i hope to see this photo owner again some day only heaven knows when and say thank you for showing my strong arms to the world 😂


To my humble abode.
May you sit,
There is chair to enjoy.
May you stand,
There is painting to enjoy.
This lobby,
A place for every guest
To enjoy the best spread
Of food and beverage.
My kitchen
Is not,

Welcome, fellow travelers.
Leave when your storm ends.


My best friends once reminded me of how I should be afraid of being misunderstood and my response to them was “I am ok to be misunderstood by those who don’t have enough knowledge and/or love to understand who I am and what I am doing.”

They still say the same thing in different ways. I answer the same way.

Thank you.



How are you, dear white?
Everything looks bright on white.
It’s clear on itself.


a white mug with ginger & honey tea 💝 get drunk with it and make all work excellent! ☺️

sterilised or warmed? whatever! loving warm white mug in my hand 💕

this champion is quiet when working and resting unlike me talking at work snoring at sleep 🥶

parrrtyyy! no, no, not my party; it belongs to one favourite cleaning lady

Pigeon Orchids

Like pigeon
But not flying,
It spreads fragrance
Along the road I am on everyday.
This sense is trained
To breathe scent.
I am walking
Like pigeon.


all these years i thought only this tree is where my favourite pigeon orchid “lives”

i thought only this cluster!

even this morning i thought only this one! i kissed these

walking to the bus stop, i saw a lot more! on that tree across the street

in the tree ahead of me!

in another tree!

and another tree!

then i started seeing the pigeon orchids in almost all of trees along my favourite road! i am so blessed!

Water In Me

I’m water 
Humble enough to mold myself
To this pitcher.
This life’s a pitcher
Kind enough to tilt herself
To the river.

I’m water
Flowing by myself
In myself to the sea.
This’s the strongest soft
With what this rocky heart
Gets shaped through time.


water: naturally willing to be shaped, spiced up, scented, coloured, treated by temperatures — matured through stories 😃

Dreams, Given Up?

Is she giving up?
She’s waiting for the right time.
Just another leap—



played Coldplay all day today as if their concert is happening in my living room 😁

gave up the queue because my medical treatment on May 19 was much more important; if i am healthy, i still can work to earn money for the next concerts somewhere else 🙏🏼 happy watching, all ticket war winners! you deserve your strategy whatever it was


Are the beats in my heart.
Whereabout your heart
Am I in?

Are the water of a vase.
Whereabout your vase
Am I of?

Are the -ness at my nothing.
Whereabout your thing
Am I at?

There is silence,
And it answers me through.
I am nowhere about

when the water is gone, all is dead only dried leaves and air 🙏🏼


A background
Is redone.
A painting
Is restarted
And again
And again.
Maybe one morning
She will restart
One more
And finally get it done.
There is peeping light
Highlighting the canvas
Glowing with a new story
Sweeter to tell.


i don’t know when this work is going to complete – it is constantly a new start because of the artist’s unprofessional insecurity

the recipient is impatiently waiting, a deadline must be set — ok, ok 🙏🏼


A basket of fresh
Turns into a jar of fresh
For mind to refresh.

from this — pomelo, pineapple, mango, apple, rose apple and pomegranate

to this

added with this — not so spicy this time

both mixed into this — 45 minutes of washing, peeling, cleaning, grating fruit + grinding the palm sugar

this final packed fresh — one week + 2 days’ morning grated fruits