Bright day, Beloved, Brought by bright colours or thoughts About tomorrow—
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Stuck is just stuck! What colours she should put on the day, only Heaven knows. It doesn’t get better, it just gets full and dirty. Maybe tonight Hermes will come to her dreams, bringing a message about what colours she should splash and stroke on the canvas to become a decent outcome….
…. Or Mercury will communicate about what and what on where, when and how. What about who and whom? Ahhhh! Ignore those gossiping and discouraging.
Well…. Welcome, Monday. Please be nice to me. 🤓
May all beings be happy.
♥️
weekend is primarily about washing, painting & drawing, singing random stupid lyrics and planning the Monday brightness 😎hey, tell me if there is any message for me 🪶
To those loving pho (Vietnamese noodles) esp. Ho Chi Minh City style this herb is not something new. This herb gives unique strong flavor of herb in the pho broth. Some people say it is a replacement of cilantro (coriander leaves) but to me this herb can only replace cilantro in South East Asian food —at least in my limited knowledge and culinary experience. This herb is not the best in Western food which is mostly tasteless oops I mean bland…. Sorry, I don’t mean to. People won’t like their pancake or even sandwich with culantro. 😎
I bought it every time I traveled to Vietnam before pandemic and found it in a plant store around Ang Mo Kio yesterday. Good for the view. Good for noodle bowl. Good for the mood. 💚
when it’s finally found here! 🥰Vietnamese call it ngo gai, Western call it culantro, we Javanese call it ketumbar Jawa (Javanese coriander) – perennially grown everywhere behind our grandparents’ home 💝where our ancestors started their humble legend, among lush greenery ❣️ culantro, pepper, vanilla orchid, herbs, etc, and so on can be found there
Sometimes I’m somebody At a conference room Where win-win Isn’t always a solution. Powerful— Decisive—
Sometimes I’m anybody When long lost friends Suddenly say hi and cry “Would you please help? Would you help?” Unconditional— Used—
Sometimes I’m everybody When I blindly devote myself, When I wholeheartedly do everything needed, When I run around everywhere to find you. Preoccupied— Stand-alone—
Sometimes I’m nobody When I feel my heart beats, My breath slows down with calmness, When I know nobody is with me. Blissful— Submissive—
Thanks, my body. You’re a complete gift to me.
I dedicate the above free verse to Emily Dickinson who has touched my life with many of her poems especially “I’m Nobody! Who are you?”
🐣
Salaam.
this poem was introduced by Ibu Siti Parwati Soemarto, our lecturer who always challenged her students to bravely see who we truly are – 28 years ago! damn I’m an old nobody! how bitterly fair life is! Terima kasih, Ibu Soemarto. 💝
Sand dune, Beloved, Built, ruined, built, ruined. No mercy— Bowing to the wind.
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What does sand dune tell me? Nature wonder? Movement of sand? Direction and power of wind?
Or, about these dreams? Beautiful. Precious. Well planned. At the same time they’re aborted by some reality, dishonoured by those underestimating and sabotaged by lack of confidence.
It doesn’t matter. I’m a human being whose journey’s as tiny as a scarab, a lizard or a viper’s in the Sahara. What can they do but bowing to the wind? Not only standing, but also showing a gesture and posture of respect.
…. and so please give me good sensors to detect the presence of wind and agility to adapt the formation of dunes.
Laughter, Beloved Takes trust before exploding. Accepting what is—
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I had a conversation with one friend about acceptance and trust.
This friend is one of my favorite as she is the struggling among us but the one with the biggest acceptance and trust to the life process. She’s been in all tests of life that might have made her a tough lady. Or probably she was just born that way and so she can pass all tests.
She said that trust is very important, only trust to the processes of life can make her accept whatever is presented by life. It has turned her into this current posture and gesture – tough yet kind.
Talking to an honest yet witty friend is a privilege, listening to her funny stories is like unwrapping hidden wisdom. How would a human being be that tough yet kind? She reminds me of my mother and some people around me.
friends laugh at each other, but touch each other’s heart the most
Yet I never want to be like them as being like them means dealing with roughest surface of life. I’m sufficiently thankful being me.
Thank you so much for giving me good friends as present. I will love them without being them. ♥️
Hey! But sometimes my ears feel like exploding with the length of the call. For full jokes, call at weekends only please….. 😚
Have you heard of the word home? I often think of what it is And where it is.
My friends all say it. That it is where shelter is, That it is where family is, That it is where safety is, That it is where heart is, That it is this earth that spins, Blah blah blah, That it is this, That it is that.
What is a home?
I’m not as intelligent as they are. I can only tell what’s not a home. Sometimes my apartment isn’t a home. Sometimes my childhood home isn’t a home. Sometimes I don’t feel safe staying in this safest place. Sometimes my heart is flying across the ocean while I’m sitting in the sofa. This earth is traveling to where I don’t know. Sometimes I just don’t believe what my friends say about home. I’m sorry for being not so intelligent as all of you are.
I will keep identifying what’s not home Until I’m home.
They live in the mud. Flowers wanted. Story not, Real beauty that’s missed—
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Dark and bright, two limits that often corrupt my perception of facts and so affect many plans. In fact both bring different strengths supplementally support my life.
What is it about? Oh, it is just about that night ride is cool and serene, morning ride is colourful and fresh.
In the dark I hear more; when it’s bright., I see more.
Hey! Riding morning makes skin darker! Damn right! 😿
Salaam.
the blooming happiness along my normal route of fun this morningthey’re all resting buds last eveningmostly living in cluster, colourful same colour clustertwo of themliving at the edgesoloisolated duosupporting systemhiddensome can see their reflection on the water, some not 💝
They said,”If you want to walk fast, walk alone. But if you want to walk far, walk together.”
Me: Ride your bike whichever speed or distance, don’t bother. Just enjoy the ride. And safety first. They may go fast or far but they might not reach safely, I do. 😁
Good time, Beloved, Sitting silently, centred. Grazing on the time—
—-
Life is never bored of reciting how grand a name when zoomed in and how tiny its reality when zoomed out. Oh! It is the other way around, tiny when zoomed in and grand when zoomed out.
don’t disturb, she’s enjoying her good time as if she’s real – is she?
What is your name, dear? Deer!
what is an animal as sturdy and cold as metal? this! is it real?
Are you a buck or a stag? You don’t look like one. Or, you look like both?
Go jazz, Beloved Improvise on your own path Where hidden seeds grow.
—-
Jazz is like secret love, confusing and almost unknown at the first catch but wrapped in harmony through time… and space? Seems space never takes my side. 😎
Jazz each day up!
⭐️
Java Jazz is on – wish I were it 🎷🎺to a secret love across the ocean ⭐️
How are you, Yellow? Happiness, warmth, sunshine, or Other perfect fits.
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Nature never fails to convince me that all are beautiful given appropriate angles. Not all love winter but with the yellow crocus growing in the middle of white snow, who will say no?
Yellow isn’t my favourite colour but the yellow crocus is one of those I’m wanting to see with naked eyes to witness Mother Earth’s generosity even in its coldest period.
May time lets me explore more places on earth.
🐣
yellow crocus, brightness coming out of the icy blanketimperfect drawing but making my day relaxed and bright
Did you see the light Or the dark? Or both? Or none? Now you see the light.
the light behind the cloud yesterday. magnificent
Light above light. Layers of light. Spectrum of light. What is light? Is it the radiation? Is it the brightness? Is it the wavelength? Is it the source? Or what?
It is what’s defined but at the same time what is not definable. It is what is seen but at the same time what is not visible.
May all beings be happy.
my sister lent her cassette to me and this song was ever favorite – cassette? what a history, so dark yet beautiful, giving me some enlightenment 😎
For granted I take The green, the blue and the red Until they turn grey.
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Sometimes I’m thankful that I’m not given opportunity to have children. I can’t imagine what playfulness and nature exploration they will have in their future with very minimum real nature around. I’m thankful. 🥰
Sometimes I’m broken-hearted that I’m not given opportunity to have children. I can’t agree on how some people raise their children. I egotistically imagine how well I would raise them to be human-respecting and nature-loving generation in the family tree. I’m selfish. 😐
Meanwhile I’m always feeling lucky to be me, born when and where nature was willing to introduce her excessive bounties, grew up when and where human interaction was real and warm, working when and where human right and environment protection is a paramount topic. I’m blessed. 🥰
♥️
just realised there is a fully shaven greenery farther across the road 🙃zoomed in – oh…. maybe not long after this the greenery around me will turn to patches of garden and playground among grey concrete 🙃
Money Count it Save it Spend it … Whatever wanted, Decided Through a nature … They grow together. … What a show! It gives relief And chokes At the same. … Hey, Money! You’re so genuinely Mirroring me.
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One wise friend told us that money will not change a human being into a good one; it only resonates what is.
Look at Scrooge McDuck. He may be naturally greedy and stingy. When he has all those dollars and coins, he doesn’t even pay Donald Duck decent salary as an employee who is at the same time his relative. His money resonates his nature!
Look at Belle. She may be naturally kind and intelligent in a small village. When she becomes the wife of a rich Beast, she is kind in even larger society. Wealth resonates her nature!
Undeniably the only matter most people want to dive in after water is probably money. It makes life breathable they said. Hilariously true, paradoxical.
Note: Money, a non discriminative belief system that will either makes someone’s life truly meaningfully valuable or vaguely temporarily luxurious. Our choice! Remember that $100 here is $100 there, no matter what one’s ethnic groups, race, religion, age, gender, sexual orientation, political interest, etc is.
A smile, Beloved, Not to or for. It’s just there, A ready bounty.
—
All the lyrics and the music — lyrics were recited, music was listened to. Those lyrics and music were so beautiful that they invited the best smile of the day. A smile that appeared like a good shape coming out of a foggy morning in the moorland. Until some reality struck, telling that those were directed more to a head than a heart, and to somewhere else.
Uh oh!
Well! A smile must still be kept. It is a grace, an alms, a bounty, a gift, a bonus, an appreciation; or from hidden wisdom formed through sedimentation of things annoyed yet forgiven. Or probably a smile is a package of lyrics and music — sweetly flowing. Aaah! Must be appreciated!
Put a best smile on the face and world will smile, too.
May all beings be happy.
😊
because I know any news is worth smiling – bitter or sweet
Time zones, Beloved, Limit spaces with blurred ends. Illusion that jails.
—
One hour makes things different.
Dear, time…. Thanks for the space you just gave for what’s called holiday. Please bless me with nice pace and good vibe again and again like always.
If I forget about your kindness, please remind me gently as I’m fragile. If I take you for granted, please remind me that I’m traveling between your two points: start and end.
Thanks again.
Me that is blessed with both negative and positive yet trying to balance at the zero ❣️
illusion that jails – time zonessky is the limit – love?
Breathing in Breathing out The air is flowing Pumping freshness to the blood Pushing the recyclable out.
Time units are agreed. If passed, something is overdone. If missed, something is given up. If right on, moment is created.
Breath is my chosen time unit That I prudently save Between two points That I travel in.
How many will I take? I don’t even know Or how many have I taken? I’ve lost count.
It’s as accurate as your digital timepiece, Or as elegant as your mechanical winding. Our time is as precious, Yet we count with different tools.
Alas! Don’t ask me to walk faster Just because you run. Don’t tell me to stay put Just because you sit.
Life is short Yet expensive to lament If we don’t cross the path, It’s simply because of Simple word: Decision Because Fate sometimes doesn’t seem to fit. Whose decision? I don’t know. I’ll just breathe Until the sun moves in reverse.
rike jokanan 
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