Coffee, Beloved, Brings back the fragrance of breeze From the green high land.
—-
I drink coffee but am not a big fan of it. Fragrance of raw coffee beans, coffee cherries, coffee leaves, coffee flowers, coffee trees are much more lovable to these nostrils. Last 2019 visit to my uncle and aunt’s home in Menoreh Hill has always been a fresh fragrant memory; it is because the coffee fragrance would welcome us in the morning when wind blowing down the hill through the window sills.
Along the path up the hill going to our grandparents’ graveyards these hands would playfully pull some coffee leaves or coffee cherries, squeeze them and breathe the aroma in. My cousins and nieces would do the same. We would throw them to the dogs jumping around as playful as the owners.
Miss that green high land, where my ancestors started their humble legends—
Wind, fly me. 🛫
Salaam.
coffee shrubs decorate back yard of many houses in the hill; that fragrance is the witness of how the people love the land 💝another fragrance loved – pepperwait!hey! get up, let’s run!
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? 😑
Winter, Beloved, As white as wishes whistling Through poems and prayers.
—
Damascus steel cuts silk. Drips of water punch the rocks. Wind caresses the sands. Breeze sways the twigs and ushers the leaves to land on the ground. Snowflake falls one by one wrapping the ground to doze off. With eloquent silence they make things happen.
How can I say about language ….except that it is as subtly powerful as nature, or even much more with its ability to transform or transmigrate whatever is in the hands, head and heart—
Whistle to me, Winter. These ears are frozen and distant but this soul is as warm and fragrant as jasmine tea.
Monday, thank you for being nice to me. Tuesday, I know you are too. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, be, too.
Salaam.
if only I learnt this language much earlier, I would have sung this song decently 😍
She is all children Playing, pushing the limits Before time for home.
—-
Adults at home often reprimanded young me for going home late missing timely afternoon bath or going home dirty playing in the river or paddy field. As a child I was confused why adults didn’t like playing; worse is they tried stopping me from having fun, while we children didn’t even do any harm when playing.
Reading a message from someone “Stay safe. Enjoy life.”, there is optimism that life is still playful even among those working crazily hard although level and perception about enjoyment differs from person to person based on whatever limit the prefer to use: culture, law, moral values, religion, contracted ethics conduct, etc. Mine is still the same: traveling along the river and going home late minus mud (sometimes at the bike wheels) and adults’ criticism.
Weekend is always refreshing. Welcome, Monday! I’ve been nice to you, please be nice to me! (transaction starts at the end of a weekend)
Salaam.
seen more black and white recently and hope to see more colour-negotiable days 💝
Married, Beloved, To your shadow that follows Wherever I go.
Divorced, Beloved, From your doubt that hunts and haunts Wherever I hide.
—-
One very long chat decorated a night. A childhood friend did sharing about what she had experienced when we were away for about 10 years, busy with our own life. This is her promise to tell the full story after giving hints and looking puzzled when meeting me.
She married thrice. First husband died of illness. Second abused and cheated her and so they divorced. Third one, this one has brought a lot of stories and enlightenment.
How she finally decided the third after the traumatic second has strengthened about my own lesson in life – acceptance. How she lets a seemingly perfect person be with her imperfect figure does add amazement about one of my loyalist. How she ignores words and stares from people disapproving her behaviours has told me she is still girl going foraging in the wild with me in our lively early age.
She hit me with some bitter comments about my complicated points. She ridiculed me for being so guarding and distant from risking broken heart to happen. She also highlighted how her love transforms to friendship that I would have not believed can happen to her – she is not a “friendship-friendly” type of person, she is a snapping turtle 😑
There are things she has regretted about all 3 decisions but the regret has brought her to a final realisation that her life has shaped her into a composed, mature woman strong yet flexible enough to be beautifully bent by the hardship of life. The pain pays off, she said. What a beautiful creature my dear friend is! 😘😘😘
This weekend has given me another package of lessons from our childhood. A blast from the past!
Weekend is still long. I’d better have more fun!
May all beings be happy! 🙏🏼
the commitment on paper needs realisation in 3 dimension reality with soul and trust – red torii in progress
Orchids’s peekaboo! They breathe, we breathe the same air. They bloom. We do, too. They show colours. We do, too. Theirs are bright. Would ours be, too?
Sunset, Beloved, Serene pretty end of day To be in your lap—
—-
I’ve limited contact with human beings for the past 2 years either due to the blessed pandemic or my own will. It feels good to seclude myself: doing what’s sweet and enriching, talking only to those encouraging and infusing positive vibes, working with all heart and soul.
Only calls from colleagues and family are those I’ve picked. Very very limited number of friends have been the preferred channels. The rest is next layers, not priority.
Only 6 people have been my favourite for the past one year — they are the easiest to laugh things with; at the same time the most serious to discuss crazy things with. We can talk about how stupid we are especially when in love 🤮 up to how we are afraid of dying ugly and in debt 😑
My mom and 2 older friends are kind of those I would respectfully listen with a twist – hey sometimes my ears are itchy too… My youngest brother and 2 same age friends are whom I impatiently argue with and patiently listen to each other. They are the definition of best friends of mine.
Thanks for becoming my sunrise, sunstroke and sunset. Beautiful friendship is about acceptance and trust! 💝
Alfatihah for you all my best people
sunset is beautiful reminding me of those sweet sour best friends 🥳
Whirlpool, Beloved, Rotates to flush the stagnant. Brain? No exception.
—
Izakaya-san*: How are you, Rike-san?
Me: I’m well. How are you there? Hopefully Japan welcome more foreign visitors.
Izakaya-san: I’m great! Yes, starting this month we relax the policy. How is Asia?
Me: I beg your pardon.
Izakaya-san: How is Asia?
Me: Oh. South East Asia? Much better. Most countries open borders without test and quarantine.
Izakaya-san: Oooh! Asia is good, too. Good, good, good!
This head was whirled yet decided to sound normal this afternoon. God bless Izakaya-san and his people from his generation. 🤭
Salaam.
i’m very often “Japanly” whirled! 😂
* Izakaya-san is a pseudo name I use to talk about unique Japanese that gives me some experience. It’s not because I dislike izakaya. I like izakaya so much that everything about Japanese unique reminds me of izakaya. Only Japan has izakaya.
Good night, Beloved, They slow down even the trains. But times, it moves right.
—-
One friend said “Some people show their sweet side when they need me, I just knew they laughed at me behind my back and said how stupid I’ve been for (she mentioned one big social contribution she made). Do you think I should stop being kind to people?”
Another friend said “No. why stop? There is karma so you’d better do good deed. Your good actions will be repaid with good reactions. Believe it.” This one is also very kind.
Another one said “This life doesn’t owe you anything. So how much ever you spend, it will not be paid back. You will not be repaid 10 points just because you donate 1 point. Look! How much have you lost, just like that? No one gives you 10 times the amount, right? What karma? Whose karma? You’d better do what’s the best for your benefits and without harming others.” She is the most critical.
The other friend said “it should be balanced. You do good things and don’t forget doing bad things.” 🤔 Gosh she is always the most confusing.
I said “I’m hungry. Let’s go dinner. Our brain needs to slow down.” Those three stopped arguing.
Night is always good for a chat with some friends whose heads contain different things whose heart is of one intension — to respect friendship.
Salaam. ♥️
two trains to/from opposite directions of the same line, Red Line
Achene’s a message Sent to wish more joy and bliss. Sad no more, dear earth.
—
Each day new day. It is equivalent with Javanese wisdom “mati sajroning urip” which literally means “dead within life”. It is a very deep wisdom teaching Javanese human beings to let the old self to transform to the new one. It is simply acknowledging that some problems are let go and self is moving on with better understanding about what life is truly is.
If life challenge is considered a seed, it will free the human being, fly away to fall on Mother Earth’s lap somewhere and be part of green woven blanket beautifying and cooling.
Bright day, Beloved, Brought by bright colours or thoughts About tomorrow—
—-
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 🪶
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. 💝
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—
—
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 💝
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.
—-
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
For granted I take The green, the blue and the red Until they turn grey.
—-
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 🙃
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?
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.
rike jokanan 
You must be logged in to post a comment.