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.
is the flying butterfly not anymore the caterpillar greedily eating before sleeping? am I still the un-named baby born by my mother? 💗
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.
—
🌊
when window nook is ready for daydreaming, no book, no paper, no gadget – just her welcoming gifts
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 —
—
daydreaming in a rainy day – RC Gorman’s “Woman with Poppies”
Love makes heart full. Love makes heart empty. Love makes heart laugh. Love makes heart cry. Love makes heart closer. Love makes heart distant. Love makes heart trust. Love makes heart distrust. Love makes heart bloom. Love makes heart wither. Love makes heart healed. Love makes heart broken. Love makes heart warm. Love makes heart cold. Love makes heart enlightened. Love makes heart blinded. Love makes heart beautiful. Love makes heart wicked. Love makes heart bright. Love makes heart weary. Love makes heart sing. Love makes heart scold. Love makes heart write love poem. Love makes heart compose hate speech. Love makes heart recite ballads. Love makes heart scream hoax. Love makes heart look foolish. Love makes heart look angry. Love makes heart love more. Love makes heart hate more.
Love makes heart swing like a pendulum between two ends.
You say love is You say love is not You ask what is love
Love makes space To those willing To feel, To taste, To experience Millions of what’s-nots To know The what-is.
We decide Which space To be filled With what.
This is about love— An unlimited edition But still Difficult to grab.
—
missing home where love is as simple as opening the door ajar to let the breeze in – please bless me oh Allah…. this poor soul 💝 thanks for everything
Mr Sun’s hiding Behind curtains of colours. This brain cheats the eyes.
—
Ah! What is before these eyes isn’t always what is. It doesn’t matter; although it is not what is, it is still what is when it is clear what is not.
Bumpy road of saying no before finally saying yes is a long battle, a long journey to win the best throne of this heart. Know it and accept it.
Salaam. 💝
is it the ability to capture the horizon or the limitation of man-made lens that makes the shot scenery not as stunning as when viewed with these eyes? Or these very eyes get cheated?
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! 💝
Mirror, Beloved. Look back while looking forward! Sigh. Blank. Mute. Smile. Shine.
—
Acceptance has gathered laughter, smile, speechlessness, emptiness, anger into a frame with a figure looking into a mirror at the same time seeing what is situated behind.
Beloved, the past is the past but it is what has molded a present person. It should be forgiven, it should not be forgotten.
Counting beads of pray, An echoed name flows away Through silence of heart.
—
Have you ever prayed so silently? No one can hear. Only beads of pray click. A remembrance of love that is unseen. Beyond the ocean and beyond existence—
Literature is a limited tool to disclose ideas and emotions; not accurate enough to shoot one heart. Math is sharp to operate a complex equation; not sweet enough though to state naked truth.
With what then should I count this reality between two lovers? Beauty or precision?
Only beads of pray is whispered silently. Who knows the river will sail this soft voice along its flow introducing it to the estuary that escorts it to the ocean where winds push the current following the North Star to meet with you.
Deep dive, Beloved, To where soft bodies guard light Wisdom of the dark
—
Nowhere is better than within, where price tag is no longer a concern, where silence and acceptance is currency, where no one looks evil or harmless, where only gratitude and peace reside, where no colour distracts, where pain and joy are blended to ecstatic reality….
….where I finally get sleepy 😁
Salaam.
the no-longer-cost-fortune-yet-still-cost-a-wisdom gemstone called pearl is produced through 100’s of layers of mineral secreted by mollusk to cover around irritants that enter its shells – if a soft body of mollusk can do it, how can’t we human beings?
Reading, Beloved Deciphering messages Sent by soul that shines—
—
Sending my warm regards to all readers in the world. Hope we’re all blessed with wisdom and fun from reading and what is read.
Salaam…. 🙏🏼
‘ve always wanted to read this book but never happens; maybe my 5 people are not those in his book 😎 skipped (maybe forever)this writer has fascinated me with his crazy ideas about children’s life; wish I could write that way 😍 paid!sorry, Keanu; many not even in my kindness list 😘 you’re not my guide, just a man that has charmed me with your kindness & bearded face 😂 finished reading in the bookstore
Kinokuniya SG – calm Saturday afternoon after Japanese class with Honda Sensei
Love is Unseen rope Invisibly tying Sparkling souls.
Love is Interconnected network Constantly connecting All computers.
Love is Moving air Secretly exchanged Through breathing.
Love is An attached context Building meaning In a statement.
Love is A medium Conveying messages To a ready recipient.
And what is not Is not.
—
Years of experience has brought me to an understanding that subtle sensitivity is one of the keys to understanding, genuineness, boundary and security.
Welcome to genuine hearts. Good bye to tricky engagements.
Today I’m in love again with those around me who never give up on my clumsiness and insensitivity and with myself who becomes more patient and acceptant.
Salaam. 💝
“3 sisters with love in heart” in progress – thanks for being older than me, you both are beautifully blessed ♥️♥️♥️
Love at the first sight To what’s captured by senses And stays in the heart—
—
One beloved person called me asking why I didn’t attend a nephew’s wedding party yesterday. I said I couldn’t as I’ve been physically “beaten up” because of an accident recently. After what happened, sorry and better be careful, don’t go biking at night, wear the right shoes; she started ranting….
“What are you looking for in life? Look at your nephews and nieces getting married one by one. They wish their best wishes for you but you don’t seem to care. You’d better find one man and get married and they will attend your wedding party with all love and gifts.”
“Not my priority”, I said.
“What is your priority? Your work? Your dream? What?”
It is sometimes annoying to be a single woman in a society in which marriage is highly appreciated and considered as highway to happiness. I feel so lucky for living overseas away from those caring so much about me so I can enjoy my life the way I love to. Many of my single girl friends call me now and then telling me how tiring it is to answer the same questions again and again even when they don’t seem to have problems for not getting married. We are mentally and financially stable. 😁
“Ok, tell me I’ll find one. I know you won’t want one like your last. Tell me.”
“Sexually straight and not abusive in any way possible.”
“That’s easy! It is just you so difficult! Sometimes you just have to give up your priority or your love. I got married without love and it goes well. Many of us do and it goes well. Know that we worry about you.”
Alamak….
Weekend still goes well. And I’m happily looking forward to another week.
Life is a mystery, and so is love. I love my life and I don’t worry. 🥰
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? 😑
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
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
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. 💝
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 💝
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 ⭐️
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
A wise teacher said: If you have a space for shelter, A plate of rice for meal, A job for a living; That’s when you’re blessed.
I couldn’t say a word To deny.
It’s true And Only true.
—-
Enjoy!
today’s spread 🥰 – less than last year, not much time to cook 🐣specialty for Lebaran – opor 🥰 minus fried shallot that makes it less special to me 😎😎 not the biggest fan of beef, but this one is super goodwant more❣️💓🥳
I learn Life is about counting gates of moments. It’s not what I celebrate, It’s how I celebrate. They call it this, I call it that, It’s a day dyed with red, blue, yellow Yet Really the day won’t describe its own color when asked.
One more day to celebrate!
—-
It’s not unusual Ramadhan is closed on different days by different groups of Muslim esp. in big country like Indonesia. One group may close Ramadhan on 29th day, the other on 30th. It’s not a big deal (although some noisy people like to debate about it) but it’s not simple things to explain. Overall the difference is due to 2 different methods of seeing the crescent moon visibility in the horizon – one group is using mathematical astronomy (computation), the other physical observation (telescope).
This year most of my family in Indonesia celebrated the Eid yesterday, I in Singapore today.
Without further ado….
Hari Raya Puasa = Hari Raya Idul Fitri = Lebaran = Riyaya = Ba’dan = Eid Mubarak whatever they call it, it is here to be claimed and celebrated, not debated. 🥰
Celebrate moments that are given in life including this festivity. Every moment is a gate to another moment before entering the next gate of moment. After entering Ramadhan gate, now Syawal gate, what’s next? Any should be simply a gate to start or to restart or to continue.
a common greeting in Eid: May Allah accept (good deeds) from us and from you.
Gate after gate before finally the grandest gate ⛩
rike jokanan 
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