Romantic

What’s romance, my love?
Is roses stay in the branch
With no disturbance.
They’re unpicked until falling
Gracefully kissing the earth.

——

Yogyakarta is one of the most romantic cities on earth, where life is automatically slowing down and love can be felt sweeter, simpler and longer; my friends said “the most romantic or the cheapest?” i said cheerfully “i love cheap things that make me happy including cheap friends, people with high maintenance cost please go away” 😄

one serene night in Stasiun Tugu

Sweet Heart

Hello, my sweetheart.
Is life still sweet and vibrant?
Nes, said twisted tongue
Who means yes but mixed with no.
Making decision is wow.

Sweet is banana rice cake for breakfast and lunch. Should dinner be with the same? Please no. But where is thanksgiving if food is wasted? Sometimes good is not always good like this sweet banana rice cake that ends up as a dilemma. 💕

Lesson learnt: the karma of trying a full recipe is eating the same food the whole day without knowing to whom complaint shall be aired 😁

today’s banana rice cake! as sweet as a light heart 😘

A Path

A path to a place
Is walked through trees and uphills.
A meadow is waiting
Opening another path
To a warm home filled with love.

My friend sent me three photos of our beloved “simbah” (those senior people who are considered wise or those who have grandchildren) – Javanese). Most people call these simbah “batik maker” because they make batik to earn a living. We both call them “batik artist”. More than that through what we’ve seen and heard about them, we’ve considered they are artists of their life. How they embrace their humble life gracefully and consciously has always amazed both of us. They live like calm river flowing to the sea. They don’t struggle against what others think about or do to them. They live as if there is no hindrance and disturbance in life.

When my friend told me some things about those three honourable ladies, I secretly harvested some lessons. It is very critical reminder for me who is still very much attached to a feeling of (accidentally) underestimated and (slightly) humiliated because of one petty case. These three artists of life have silently told me to let go.

What a loud shot in a quiet weekend!

No apology is needed. All is gradually let go through my own wish and willingness. This is my life and I only want to be the artist of my own life. 💝

Thank you, artists of life. You’re blessed. 💝

Salaam.

Mbah Suhir, 93 years old 💝 matur sembah nuwun
Mbah Erah, 87 years old 💝 matur sembah nuwun
Mbah Isah, 82 years old 💝 matur sembah nuwun

Morning

Morning, Beloved,
When seeds of joy is planted.
When dewdrops slide off.
What hues are painted for skies.
Whose voice will define the day.

Leadership is about being able to discriminate my own thoughts and making conscious decisions for the best of the agreed direction.

🍂🍃

after morning prayer, certain day is just so….

Dream of You

A beautiful view
Conjured by moon, sunk by sun.
It feels faraway,
A dissipating shadow.
At least I dream about you.

Sunday, did you conspire with the sun to snap my dream? Never mind. I’ll call the moon again to get it back. 😄

Happy Sunday!

Freydoon Rassouli’s Alchemy of Love

Nocturne

Nocturne, Beloved,
Desert at velvety nights;
Her hair is waving,
Where pitch and rhythm dangle
Sprinkling tones of a warm heart

Night is a sweet shelter that never complains whether I snore or sing or cry or laugh or play or work or just sit on the window nook.

Serene….

RC Gorman’s Nocturne
💝

Listen

Listen, Beloved,
Humming angels keep singing
Song of union.
Ears can’t hear, too low a voice.
Heart can, swayed by the wind though.

Root deep, Beloved.
The song vibrates in the earth,
Making grass and flowers bloom,
Brightening up the meadow—
Listen, Beloved.

It takes enormous patience to listen to the silence. Hey! Is it being patient or simply allowing quietness to sit where birds and monkeys are hopping and making noise?

Listening is a skill. A skill needs practices to mastery. Mastery takes time. Time takes breathing, in, out, with awareness.

—practicing listening mode on—

holla…. love ya! (RC Gorman’s work of art)

Sky Lantern

This song, Beloved,
Sky lantern blinking at me
To read your message?
I don’t read it. I sing it
To thank you for being you.

Some story is just so beautifully bitter that can’t be read, can only be recited as a musical poem — just like your story.

Some love stories must end because of greater reason. I wish you lovers, fiancées, wives, husbands, parents, children, best friends and all others broken hearted happiness. Maybe the greater reason is your own self — yes, must be!

Salaam. 💝

beautiful song to lament a lost lover; and also it is not easy to lose a father or a father to be – may all beings be happy

One by One

Wishing, Beloved,
Upon a star where dreams sit
Waiting to be picked
One by one to the bucket
Before the steps reach the home—

Many dreams look so much near. Places to go on earth displayed in Pinterest lengthen the list and be a good escape for mind every weekend before dosing off. Can only wish that the lengthened list lengthens the life, pushing the EOL later and later— 🤗

Some dreams can’t even be described…. You are as near as far away…. 🙃

Happy weekend. Oops long weekend.

next year, next year…. please 🥰 want to stand under those trees and greet the women who carry loads on their heads! beautiful! 💝

Love Stories

Stories, Beloved,
Chronological events
With no emotion
She puts meanings and settings
To characters in action.

I like poems loaded with love even when it is not love stories according to my friends. To me all stories are potential love stories.

I couldn’t find my left green sock and a poem about losing a beloved one was born. My kitchen lamp was blinking before switched off for good, a poem about a lover moving on after struggling reaching out to the beloved. Yet real broken heart helped me develop poems about how a heart shape blinks from white to blue to red to black before fading away.

Everything is love story between a lover and beloved. Of left and right socks. Of dark and light. Of hope and fear. Of head and heart. Of missing you and hating you. Of everything and nothing. Of me and my beloved that constantly changeable among me, you and them.

Mystery? Cheesy? It doesn’t matter. It helps me relax yet focus. ♥️

Life is all romance through these eyes. Wish that they remain with romantic lenses until life shows its true romanticism at the end of the journey—

😚

oh oh oh love you love you love you….. who are you? someone, something or some money? 😑

00:00

How Was The Day

After one Monday,
Throw laughter before Tuesday.
Or at least a smile,
That draws a line on a face,
That strengthens steps miles away.

—-

Laughter brings brightness. It carves good mood. It (hopefully) enables longevity.

creative people turn poverty to joy 🙃 slapstick isn’t my favourite but this channel has made me laugh out loud, roll on the floor on one slow Monday.

Amazing Day, Today

Today, Beloved,
Filled with laughter of past times.
Bitter was, sweet is—
Time doesn’t heal. It turns taste,
Look. All is well. All shall pass.

Rendezvous with my best people, those who are always with ears to listen and to be listened to, with tongue to twist bitterness to wisdom, with foolishness to laugh at what’s not even funny but needing some appreciation.

Some people are amazing with just one reason called trust.

Blessed to have them.

Holiday is getting shorter. Let’s slow the steps and insert more meaningful conversations before it halts.

May all beings be happy.

🐣

TA – May 12, 2022 / 11:46am

Blinding Light

Blinding, Beloved,
Light when too bright. Dimly bright
Suits these eyes searching
Luminosity and cracks
Following path to a home—

—-

Sometimes light disturbs eyes because its intensity is way too high than what’s expected or needed by the eyes. eyes can only tolerate and work well with enough light. So the more isn’t always the better.

May all beings be happy.

Changi Airport with its lights – this one is a favourite ❣️
❣️
so much thing to miss for the past 2 years, this garden of giant bright dandelions is one of those – let’s fly home

History of A Tree

You have to believe
Nature lives with you, ruling
Games in which you are.
See colours. Watch shapes. Seasons,
Patterns count the scores to make.

Fruits rot. Flowers sere.
Leaves fall. Trunks topple. Roots die.
This plant is a name
In encyclopaedia,
Memory of its climbers.

——-

This body has expiry date. I’m seeing it deteriorates in time. What will be something of me left behind?

Temasek, Ramadhan 11 / 5:55am

dear sun, when you’re down, where are you and what are you doing?

Drunk Without Drinking

Intoxicated
Without drink, just dream of you.
Sensing from afar—
From a distance it is you.
The true you? A perceived you?

—————————————————————-

I learn about fasting gradually, starting from child’s fasting to earn presents then knowing it as shoum then as shiyam. All refer to the same activity but have different level of loaded meanings. In Arabic when word is added with one letter, the type of word changes, the voice changes and the depth or load of meaning also changes. The word صوم (shoum) has three letters, while صيام (shiyam) consists of four letters. Therefore, the word shiyam has a deeper meaning than the word shoum. There are even some circles that distinguish the meaning of the two words.

The word shiyam means to refrain from things that cancel (eating, drinking, sexual intercourse) performed with good intention, while the word shoum means leaving things that cancel fasting or not talking. In the Quran the word shoum can be found when Maryam the mother of Prophet Isa (Jesus) intended to stop eating and talking after the birth of him. While shiyam can be found as an instruction to do fasting in Ramadhan month.

I wish my fasting flies to the place where even Angel Gabriel (Jibril) can’t go in then my fasting goes back bringing me better understanding of how a human being should serve the living.

May all beings be happy.

❣️

my big breakfast of today, oops greedy stomach 😘