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


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.


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!


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 🙏🏼

May I?

May I
Sing a sweet song
Under glowing stars shooting
To leave their age?

May I
Sit silently
Under a quiet dusk rolling
To welcome dawn?

May I
Count the sheep
Under a dreamy night shining
To light a hope?

May I?


may I eat gyoza? left over from last batch — so pleasing to eat my own food, almost like heaven 😁

Thanksgiving’s Day

They celebrate it
For all
Even if a bit salty.


i dissolve sadness with cooking 💝👍🏽

they use Botox to keep good skin, I bothok 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

yum! a little but too salty, i added another sprinkle of salt

all in less than one hour — not icl the steaming process though

another Javanese bayleaf


Javanese bayleaf

banana leaf is expensive here so even using the yellowed one doesn’t make me undignified 😀 when i was a child, i harvested it for free for play

bothok recipe: tempe, grated coconut, dried anchovy, shallot, garlic, chili, galangal, Javanese bayleaf, spring onion, salt and brown sugar


There are billions of stars
Swimming in the dark.
They are born and will die
After completing their spark.

With centers the stars travel
Flying as strong as sky larks.
They reach some terminal
Even without visible landmarks.

There’s a captain in the cockpit,
Pulled by a federation out there.
Stars won’t easily quit
Unless there’s a common end to share.

Journey of a star


Captain Picard — favourite capt 👍🏽

Mr. Spock 👍🏽 — favourite crew

Surprisingly Survives

Said she
Showing the hopeless
Survival is about adaptability
Welcomed by nature,
Approved by resolution,
Driven by muscles,
Enjoyed by senses.
I’m gonna be yellow!


can you see the spike of oncidium (must be yellow) at the left? i saw it when sitting on the toilet enjoying my good time 😀— suddenly the beauty struck me! 😍 thank you! 🙏🏼 i’ll be patient waiting for you to bloom 💛

she used to be one of balcony gang members and was about to pass as the original media (wood bark and charcoal) started decaying; her new home is now shower room in a glass flower vase; media is sponge, charcoal and water 😍

The Guardian of The White Mugs

She cleans the mugs
From which we drink,
She swipe the stains
Of tea and coffee.

She moves the mugs
To humming machine,
She unloads them out,
In to drying machine.

She smiles to us
We smile to her,
She says hello
We say thank you.

She asks me why
I drink so much,
She guesses I’m thirsty
Or the aircon is cold.

She’s a guardian
Of the white mugs.
How life is hilarious!
Among those who are serious!


i like talking with certain cleaning ladies assigned in the pantries near my section and the gym, and seems that they love doing it, too. there is one particular loving it the most, a (probably) 25-yo lady with a syndrome making her not talking clearly and processing messages rather slowly yet she is the friendliest. today she told me how many mugs she has to wash (helped by machines) everyday and why there are many more on Tue to Thu. she said many employees like to use more than one mug (each mug for one tea flavour) and she’s wondering why. when i said “i use one mug for one tea flavour because i don’t want to mix the taste, i am sorry”, she said “no, no, then it is ok lah” 🥹 what a blessing to talk to a humble human being — not so much thought processed and so much fun enjoyed 🥰

thanks for taking good care of our white mugs! 🙏🏼

Love & Work

I’ll love
No matter what
I’ll be over anyways.
I’ll work
No matter what
I’ll be over anyways.
There is me
Or not,
It might be the same.
Yet as long as there is me,
I’ll do what I can
To add more
To my life.
I’ll love
No matter what
In life.
Life is good,
I won’t skip
A thank

listen to love; it is everywhere 💕

Good Morning from Ubud

It is a good morning
Maybe afternoon for you.
This morning I still breathe blessings
Wrapped by songs from the bird,
Back home by hum of machines.
Both are good
In a blessed morning.
Know, beloved
That I remember you
Who might enjoy the day
And ready to welcome a weekend.
Everything is good when in Ubud,
I know everything is good
If we let blessings contaminate the air.


when i breath fresh air, i feel more me

good morning from Puri Saraswati

not a water person but love seeing water, quiet morning in front of the pool with birds singing and voice of sweep stick raking the ground

good morning to a lazy snail

another one

good morning to the unknown neighbour that might be still sleeping

Quiet Noise

Quiet and noise
Are both luxury
Which cross clarify
And cross verify.
Both cost so high
In each phase.
At times each is a spy
To bug each other
To find when the best time
To be quiet
To be noisy.

I am doing a sacred silence retreat next week. Called Tapa Brata, this retreat is where we will meditate most of the time in a day. Pak Merta is a devoted Buddhist who has been opening this meditation center for years to promote self health and at certain level herbal medication teaching. I am not a Buddhist but I feel that this retreat has helped me a lot to calm my mind.

There won’t be any interaction with others directly during the retreat. No talking. No reading. No writing. No listening except to the meditation guidance and sound of nature in Forest Island. All gadgets will be safe-kept by the organiser so we will be totally offline human beings.

It is about communicating with one’s self.

The interaction is primarily within. I remember how hard it was for me in my first Tapa Brata in 2018 just to not say good morning and good night to my roommates on the first day. Hope this one is easier for me.


that joglo (the building with terracotta roof) is the meditation hall, two jinengs (Balinese rice storage) are sleeping quarters (only for male), 9 bungalows are located behind the joglo for meditators to sleep, the dog is in front of the dining joglo

the dog? he was with whom everyone wanted to talk after lunch in silence — he would just stare at us and yawn and sleep seeing us talking without saying things, he probably understood 😃 hope to see him again

Simple Joy

Is there a space
For happiness in an angry man’s belly?

Simple joy can cure hunger.
It draws smiles.
It brews laughter.
It dampens dry heart.
It cheers up weary soul.

Is there a space
For unhappiness in an angry man’s belly?

If he knows joy is as simple as
A pattern on matcha latte,
He should say “Sorry for breaking your heart,
But loving myself is a priority”.

Simple joy is not that simple
For those knowing no simplicity.

we asked the barista in our office to draw flower on on the matcha latte but he said it was too difficult “this time this lah, flower needs more training haha…. sorry ya” 😁 thank you, that is pretty, too


Not only fruits,
It might be flowers, seeds and seedlings.
It might be leaves, woods or saps.
It might be barks, husks or roots.
It might be more.
Whatever beneficial—

What is this tree harvested for?
No. Either
Good deed or good time.

Harvest from life, Beloved.
Remember to sow before the next reap.

Her heart and soul is her best seeds,
And she is the farmer and the crop.

biggest lessons taken from this — not so much relatable yet good lessons indeed

a bit of hilariously heroic – good to build good mood 😃

enigmatic and dark

Time & Life

Time knocks on a door of life saying
“Would you travel with me?”
And a journey begins.
Time hugs its travel buddy knowing
That she might be off of the track.
Time talks to her hoping
That she is aware of the walk.
Time prances with her knowing
That she is on to where it heads.


dark and bright in one frame ♥️ time is a mystery

My Heart Is Leaping

My heart is leaping.
It opens its windows, breathes the joy.
It celebrates parties,
As invited by beauty that pops out out of life.
It claps hands.
It taps feet.
It dances love songs.
It sings “Ode to Joy”.

My heart is leaping.
It turns my sadness
To joyous moments,
Leaving tiny gap to
Contemplation and regret.


do you see that breathing the pink fragrance 👁

camellia ~ symmetrical layers

sakura near castle boulders

pink sakura ~ hanging blessings

sakura tree ~ almost end of cherry blossoms