This heart sings. Its notes witness through pitch and tempo. Genres of the soul—
—

graphs of my Universe
This heart sings. Its notes witness through pitch and tempo. Genres of the soul—
—

Keeping afloat, buoyant freely swaying playing the waves in the sky—
—
A loving visit beyond time and space. Salaam. Universe answers.
—








Your eyes, Beloved
Drown me to a depth of soul
Where you hide nowhere.
—

This life is a library
Keeping all collections,
Reference to public,
Exclusive to a lover,
One lover.
The
Beloved—
Read,
Beloved
Any scrolls
In this library.
Read,
Lover
The diaries
In the secret dungeon.
Read,
Beloved
With naked eyes, or
With any glasses on the shelves.
Read,
Lover
Through letters and numbers,
Shapes and colours.
Read,
Beloved
This library is open
As long as you are awake.
Read,
Lover
Before you sleep
When I’ll be reading you through.
—

About the photo
The wings are flapping sprinkling blessings through the air. Breathe them. Be blissful.
—
In Arabic angel is called malaaikatun or malaaikah or simply malaaikat (الْمَلٰٓئِكَةِ) literally meaning “power that governs”. In Islamic tradition the “power that governs” are grouped based on what type of assigned power they govern that are many and one of them is “power to govern protection”.
I always believe I am fully protected through the existence of the angels surrounding me although I am not interested to discuss about their form; people say angels have wings, others say they are made from light, some say malaaikah are systemic laws to run the universe, and so on and so forth. It doesn’t matter to me. That they exist and follow the assigned “power to govern” is enough for me.
Only when we listen, we will hear. We will hear the songs of the angels, the songs of universe, the songs of the heart, the songs of the soul. I prefer my angels to sing jazzy songs in this end of long weekend. 😁
Listening to heart…. 💗
Salaam.

Heart should be as light as a swaying feather to enjoy life with only feel good no matter what.
In Javanese someone with heavy heart is called mbentoyong which literally means “bent and almost broken by the heavy loads”, it is associated with a tree whose branches are bent and almost broken because of heavy loads of ripened fruits”. This kind of person will not find happiness and joy in any point of one’s life; one will misunderstand alone with loneliness and so one will always find refuge among crowd; one is confused about one’s self; one will always refer to what others say about one as if their opinions are more important than one’s own. As long as one is not willing to unload the unnecessary burdens in heart, one will always be mbentoyong better and better and finally be a master of mbentoyong.
It is heavy. I know it is heavy. It is painful. I know it is painful. Be cured, dear heavy hearts whenever you feel heavy. Lightness of heart is a comfort even in discomfort. 🥰
I bless this heart which is light and swaying with the flow of clean river inside. Calm and witty and fun! Thank you for the feel good no matter what. Not easy but doable—
Salaam.
💗
Hey, Cat. You smile cute, calming the mood. Wave to me. I am wholly yours.
Hey, Moon. You shine bright, showering the night. Greet me. My paws are all yours.
—

A stroke of a brush is how universe started. A surprise that lasts—
—
Certain friend is good at the same time destroyer of mood. I have one who can leave me“ouch ouch ouch oooouuuuch” for at least one week. This person loves ouching friends as an ice breaker but to some of us he has made it to the next level. This time he ouched me romantically, the worst of all my ouch experience from him. Call one “ouch caller”.
OC: Ready for a forced holiday? Have fun! Don’t work every night, just every two nights.
Me: (1st ouch) Hmmm ok, Sir.
…. Blah blah blah
OC: How is your romance? Get rid of him. He doesn’t even care about you. Don’t be stupid. You are not a door mat.
Me: (2nd ouch)
OC: What type of man do you want? Am I not good enough?
Me: (3rd ouch, but I have to say something) Hey, hey! Not a good time to talk about romance. Painting here and don’t want to lose vibe in the head.
OC: Tell me then. Handsome? Healthy? Rich? Hard working? I… Am… Everything!
Me: (Laughing like crazy as this person was very right about himself) Are you a sales person of your own product?
OC: Yes! And I’ve been selling my quality to you for the past how long with no buy in. You’re getting older and older.
Me: (OUCH OUCH OUCH) Ok, ok. I have to explain. I want someone whom I can be comfortable being with even when both of us don’t like the same things. Can you, Mr Cruel Oucher?
OC: What! Of course not! When I go to party, you have to go to party with me. When I go to the gym, you have to go with me. When I cook, you have to cook all what I want. Blah blah blah…. You have to do what I like to do! If necessary you should give up what you like to like what I like.
Me: (Still couldn’t stop laughing) You are not. You are not that right person. You are just my ouch person.
OC: Is he still that person?
Me: Yes.
The next is the most ouched one but probably the most accurate to describe a fact.
OC: Then you have thin hope, thin chance. Not compatible. You don’t even know how to party. You don’t even know how to drink except that weak wine. You don’t even know how to flirt. He might not like reading. He might not like art and literature and walking. He might not like biking. He might hate you singing. He might hate you writing. He might hate you touching your hair again and again. You are not his physical type of beauty. He might hate you with your job. He might hate you being honest and independent. He just doesn’t like you as you. Oh! So relief I could say all these finally.
Me: (OUCH OUCH OUCH OOOOUUUUCH and this will last long) You’re right. Very right. Time to stop your ouches, Sir.
OC: Then you still say no to me?
Me: (Mild ouch but I got impatient) You? I can’t tolerate a die hard nerd like you. You cook better than women. You manage money too well; you are stingy! You love your nephews and nieces more than anyone else, you won’t care about me. You work too hard. You eat too much healthy food, I love deep fried. You ouch people too much. Listen. Don’t call me just to ouch me.
OC: Ok, ok. How are you?
Me: Fine.
OC: Broken heart still?
Me: (ouch) Not really, just a bruise and scratch. Will get over it soon.
OC: It will be gone. For you not too soon though because you are not intelligent in romance. Be patient with yourself. (He was calming and that is when everyone likes him, a calm nice guy — unfortunately came too late after too many ouches happened.) Describe how you think about that person and let’s start the real conversation of today.
Me: My universe
OC: I want to throw up! You imagine him as a Chris Martin? Hahaha!
Me: Never heard of him singing hahaha!
Then we started to chat without ouches for almost two hours — a very nice two hours. A good friend to me is that who ouches me but still makes me comfortable with her/his genuineness.
Thank you! 🤝
Disclaimer: blogged with this ouch caller’s consent with one condition “no exaggeration” which is not accepted like he never said “I want to throw up” and never said that he is handsome and rich although he is rich but not handsome 😊
See this pendulum
Swinging between two far poles
Knowing each other—
—
Someone called me and asked if we could have a dinner. We hadn’t met for many years. Knowing this person was in Singapore, I excitedly agreed to meet. Meeting this person, I was given a shock. This person looked weary and older than one’s age. The excellent appearance and posture was totally gone. That time I felt so blessed for for being me.
Me: I am not a marriage advisor, dear. Not even ever married yet! (That’s after a very long ranting from the friend stopped).
SO: But I know you are the most suitable one I can talk to.
Me: Oh…. (damn wrong, whispered to myself)
SO: …. A broken marriage… !@#$%^&*()_+=-::’<>,./?~~~~~~~~~~ What should I do?
Me: Oh…. (proven wrong talking to me, whispered to myself)
SO: …. Divorce is painful…. !@#$%^&*()_+=-::’<>,./?~~~~~~~~~~ What should I do?
Me: Oh…. Ummm (starting to show sympathy) I understand how you feel in this situation. Must be painful. Your own stress, the other one’s stress, your children, other people’s impression and words about you, your work….. Everything seems not at your side. I can understand you feel unwanted, useless, bad, irresponsible. Yet decision was made. You just should face it. How? Not sure if my word is reasonable and responsible but I think you just need to keep being you: working as before, doing activities that are still accessible, talking to your children like before, talking to your ex about the children….
SO: You don’t know! It is not that easy!
Me: Oh…. I am so sorry. I might not fully understand it is not that easy. I am so sorry for my ignorance. (told ya I am not the right person, whispered to myself)
SO: How would you survive alone all this time? You seem so happy with your life. Sometimes I regret for getting married too young. Look at you and X and Y and Z. All the singles are happy.
Me: (Oh! A sudden death! I know this would come but too soon, too soon. Let me find the right words. Whispered again to myself ) Ummm…. I think it is not that easy too…. Ummm…. I am happy, yes. Not always, but most of the time I am. Yet I also probably started hard.
SO: You don’t seem ever in hard time.
Me: That’s what you see. !@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@&%%%%%%%%%%%%%.

SO: So do you think I can survive?
Me: Of course. Although our problem is not the same, I am sure you can. Don’t underestimate your ability to cope with the hardship of life. You are stronger than you think. You just don’t know it yet.

SO: You really don’t want to get married?
Me: (This question I never like, never like, never like; whispered to myself, but need to find the best words that won’t cause any further question.) This is out of context; you should not ask me this question. Not that I don’t want. It’s just about time.
SO: Do you fall in love?
Me: Ok, now you are asking me question about me.
SO: I feel good when knowing I am not alone.
Me: (Make sense, but why me oh my God!) Ok. Ok. I can make you feel better. Yes I fall in love and break my heart. And I don’t want to break my heart again.
SO: So you don’t want to fall in love again?
Me: Of course not like that. I fall in love again and again.
SO: With whom?
Me: With my eyes. With my lips. With my hair. With my morning. With my job. With my…. (I saw the person got annoyed but I continued with more things) Hahaha….

SO: Is it that easy?
Me: Nothing is easy automatically. It takes practice and time.
SO: What if I don’t get married again in the future?
Me: That’s too far away. Think about what you can do today.
SO: Do you think I still have a chance to get married?
Me: Of course if you want! Just find the right person.
SO: How can I find it? How?
Me: (Oh my God, help me before I can help others. Whispered to myself while finding the best words for this troubled person; even an intelligent person can be as dumb as this in one’s bad time) Hey, hey! If I know how to get the right person, I would have been married much earlier. This question is irrelevant.
SO: Hahaha……! Sorry, sorry! Hahaha……..!
Me: (Ok, at least I made you happy, whispered to myself. Mostly smiling among listening to the ranting, I enjoyed a perfect night — no rain, enough breeze…. Hours can feel like minutes…. On and on and on and on until midnight. Whispered to myself.) Cinderella has to go home, my friend. Or else, she will be back to be Cendrillon.

SO: I feel so much better. It feels like I find myself again. Maybe I was too preoccupied with not important things that I thought I lost the person I had known so long, myself.
Me: I might be like that in the same situation, maybe worse.
SO: Thank you very much.
Me: (I didn’t do anything. Just sat down and listened and responded to you. Whispered to myself for how many times heaven knows) The least I can do. It is good to meet long lost friend. Welcome back.

Dear friend, I know you’ll read this with a smile. Get better. See you some day. When meeting me again, make sure you look nicer.
Lesson learnt: Be patient with those facing fresh-from-the-oven problem. Don’t judge. Be a good listener. Don’t try to be a perfect advisor because you are not. Be yourself. Don’t get offended, someone in trouble may unintentionally disturb you.
She hums rhythms that no one can enjoy
But those hearing the thin breeze
In the falling dusk.
She recites rhymes that no one can feel
But those touching beads of dew
In the brightening dawn.
Not sending wishes anymore
As whispering is louder in her own ears.
Intention might be misunderstood.
Not delivering messages anymore to you
As journaling is clearer to her own mind.
Linguistic might be multi-interpreted.
She sings love songs sweetly
To re-orchestrate in many genres with the paradise green birds
She keeps safe gently in heart.
She rewinds her heart slowly
To become millions of forever notes turning into eternal air
She meditates sacredly in silence.
How beautiful love is with love songs
Unheard!
—

Smile, Beloved, smile.
It’s a luxurious gift
For you and for me.
—
I was checking my educational docs and was in awe to see my photos in each of different docs. How I am touched by physical transformation and what experiences attached to it, that makes me stay loyal with my own self whatsoever.
Tell yourself that your life is a journey that if you need buddy, you should pick those willing to share wonder. Otherwise, travel alone. 💝
Thank you!
💝




My love is mostly dumb, stubborn, too thin to see, and makes you hate me.
My luck is often loud, sudden, too huge to miss, and makes me love you.
I’m not a gambler, yet think you’re a dice rolling numbers for a prize.
—

Two love birds singing
In a cage full of good food.
A choice to a love—
—
Love is…. ?
Love is…. ?
Love is…. ?
Damn! I can’t define it except that it is sometimes misunderstood with lust.
That it is often symbolised with a heart shape. Maybe most human beings believe love comes from the heart. Hey! Is that really the shape of a heart? Or just how we agree that it is a shape of the heart?
That it is discussed everywhere but also wasted everywhere.
What I believe love is a verb not a noun so without action, it is muted sooner or later. At the same time love is an energy that cannot be created or destroyed so it is there and will be there, yet it can transform and/or transfer between subjects. Compatibility (chemistry), heat (intensity), motion (intension), what else can change the form of love? (oops forgetting all the physics learnt when younger)…. Anyway, it transforms and transfers (circulates can be another word) between (or among if circulated) human beings. So, accept it.
I believe love is about interest that human being cannot select voluntarily. It is a blessing at the same time a curse. it can be love between two love birds inseparable, or Tom and Jerry entertainingly cruel for either of two, or as cold as Antarctica.
I believe love is the core power generator of life that if removed, life will disappear. Never give up love. Broken heart is just a milestone that brings a human being to deeper and deeper understanding about him/herself. Broken because of a crush? Broken because of family? Broken because of friendship? Broken because of work? Broken because of world reality? A human being can always fix it gradually with anger, disappointment then acceptance. Just don’t be broken because of yourself – you are the most precious for yourself.
I believe that the way someone loves evolves through time, and it will suit the person’s intention never not. There should not be regret of what has happened because of love. Yet it is a regret that some people still choose to constantly send covert or overt humiliation and torture to hurt intentionally and/or to disrespect further to those they don’t love, while the best way should be forgiving or clearly declaring clear disagreement. War is one of them. Yet liked or not, that is the evolution of loving.
This weekend comes with a basket full of lessons learnt, a heap of ideas to pour as blessings in writings that I can re-read someday in the future.
Thank you, Love. You are never wasted.
Alfatihah to all whom I love.

Manusia mengembarai langit
Manusia menyusuri cakrawala
Tidak untuk menguasainya
Melainkan untuk menguji dirinya
Apakah dia bertahan menjadi manusia,
Tidak untuk hebat kuasa atau perkasa
Melainkan untuk setia sebagai manusia.
(Emha Ainun Nadjib)
—
Good morning, Surabaya. You did a lot of moulding to this human being. Thank you!!! 💝
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.



Where is peace on earth?
In deep sea, blue sky, green land,
Kind heart and here now.
—

I love
You
Without throbbing heart
I love
You
Without nervous mind
I love
You
Without going date
I love
You
Without touching each other
I love
You
Without intense conversation
I love
You
With the breeze of mountains
I love
You
With the wave of oceans
I love
You
With the dew of mornings
I love
You
With the sound of music
I love
You
With the hue of flowers
I love
You
With the flow of dreams
I love
You
With all whose reason is unseen.
How rejoicing and exciting.
(The Lover’s love to the Beloved)

River flows. Wind blows.
Birds perch on a twig and chirp,
Enjoying good food.
—
Life is not really WYSIWYG, there are layers that can be peeled off like peeling off onions layered skins.
What is seen in a river? Its flow. What’s behind the flow?
What is felt in a wind? Its blow. What’s behind the flow?
What’s behind the singing birds? What’s behind good food?
Something looking like nothing yet there are powerful layers of realities that wrap another deeper level of reality. At the end of the peeled-off onion, what is it? The eyes see “none” that can be immediately ignored, the self sees “the essence” that can only be understood through accepting in silence.
What an experience as a human being! Maybe this is a euphoria of being alive, or being aware? This is a good time and I will always feel good no matter what. 💝
Thank you for everything. 💝


She be, Beloved,
The space not the furniture,
Lets all come and go.
—
If only maturity could be implanted like nose or breast or whatever, I would still choose to get mature naturally through ageing and weakening although it takes almost half of century of struggling and pain to find only its gate. Damn late!
One maturity breakthrough of my life was when realising I should be more a “space human being” (my teacher calls it “room human being”) rather than a “furniture human being”.
Salaam….

I dive
Every night
To where you are
And see no one
As
You are diving
To where I’ve left my throne.
When I’m back,
You’re back
To where you”ve left yours.
If we know the hours of each others’ departures,
We’ll meet at the crossroads
Where what’s left behind
Is forgiven, not forgotten
Tonight.
—

Behind what’s seen,
What are you, Beloved?
Root of a tree
Who grows in in the dark,
Breathes with the creepy crawly,
Sleeps in none of seasons.
Silently grateful for
What’s not understood.
Cartilage of a human body
Who is not hard enough to be bone,
Not soft enough to be muscle,
Comfortably sits in between,
Catches messages delivered
By whisper, breeze and wind.
Jasmine sambac of the garden
Who is humbly tiny, clustering;
Blooms the whole year,
Leaves much fragrance to the day,
Deep meaning to celebration
Before she dries brown.
Helium of the sun
Light, low, odourless, tasteless, insipid—
It’s peaceful to be low profile,
It’s more joyful and freer,
It’s easier to be me,
Closer to Gaia.
Yet no secret bandit among
The rascals in the block!
What?!
What what?!
Don’t ask. I can be anything
But
You.
—
Rainy weekend is good especially when just have to shortly reply “Ok!” to a message saying “Heavy rain. Impossible to bike. Rain check ya.”
💝

Little bird, dear love,
Telling her to soar then go home
To where her heart is—
—
Home. Is it a what, a who, a whom, a whose, a which, a when, a where or a how? She knows hers and it doesn’t always the same as others’. 💝

Nuance, Beloved,
Painting one heart in two hues;
Comparing two times—
—
Some songs like poem will stay in my heart and won’t die. One of them is Dewa’s Kangen.
Never getting bored of listening to it— Weekend is the best music box! 💝
Sky gate, Beloved
Once opened, cannot be closed.
Blessings shower down.
—
How would it feel to be showered with rain of blessings? Intuition is truly a blessing.
Dear, Sky. Thanks for the bright half moon last night which kept reminding me to not regret for telling genuinely with no anger about my intuition that might have offended someone.
Intuition is to be listened. Intuition is not always popping out; yet once popping out, it is always right. Yes, yes, this person is better in to be genuine than to look gorgeous. 🙂
Let’s go out to breathe the freedom and victory. Today still with Blue, let Red take a rest. 💝
Salaam.

after morning prayer
I don’t want to race.
Only safety that I wish
So I can meet you.
—


Your name, Beloved:
Air blanketing fragrant space,
Soil firming the stance—
—
Shakespeare said “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.”
He isn’t wrong. Yet he isn’t always right.
I call a name when rain is sweetly pouring down, call another name when day is scorching too bright and hot….
Why is it easier to call your name than my own? Is your name so strongly rooted that only it I can remember when it rains? Is it your name or is it you that stays with me?
Oh you….
Oh your name….
Salaam.

The depth of silence is
As deep
As ocean of possibilities.
Shaken, the ocean will splash
Drops of gifts.
Time once revealed
When the gifts will appear.
It once said
There is a moment in time.
Space once revealed
Where the gifts will arrive.
It once said
There is a point in space.
Spacetime once revealed
Why the gifts will engender.
It once said
There are reasons in life:
Unfortunately wrapped
In colours and shapes,
Often times disguising things:
A crow into a dove,
A wolf into a sheep,
A dumpsite into a garden,
A villainess into a heroine,
An evil witch into a kind queen,
Bent into straight—
Misleading this traveler’s direction.
Once it was said
There is
One
That she will find
Somewhere some time only if
She minds.
Dear, Light.
Only
You can reveal
True colours
True shapes
True hearts
True reasons.
Be deeply silent
Even in the crowd
Where ocean of possibilities
Is shaken
In this spacious time.
Hey!
The gift is relatively fair, Beloved.
Be ready.
—
🌊

Oh….
How
I
Miss
You
So
Yet dimensions have distanced us with invisible connection.
Oh….
How
I
Miss
You
So
Only wish and pray I can send through speechless wireless across the elements.
Oh….
How
I
Miss
You
So
Dream, dream, dream, dear love.
Life is but a dream.
I hope we visit each other
In each of our good dreams,
Before we wake up and together we stream.
Oh….
How
I
Miss
You
So
It doesn’t matter and it doesn’t count
Even how I miss you most; like a tiny penny in a billionaire’s account:
Missed and forgotten through space and time.
Oh….
How
I
Miss
You
So
It rains again which I love the most
As the longing for you gets swept away
By the water falling and gliding on the window: sweetly cold.
Oh….
How
I
Miss
You
So
….
Yet this stubborn heart
Still sings in silence
Alone with clear sweet voice
Without doubt
That someday this feeling will fade away,
Leaving a good memory through time and space.
Listen, this is an ode
To a secret love:
Oh….
How
I
Miss
You
So
—
—

You must be logged in to post a comment.