This life’s well weathered ‘Tween hot and cold, calm and rushed. There’s home to shelter.
——
Indonesia Mosque in Bangkok — joining a short prayer
i went to a mosque then to a small shrine today before flight — feeling the humbleness of human beings begging for help from the One indescribable unseen unexplainable, the hope tiptoeing behind fear, the weakness of human beings facing our own nature
these folded lotus flowers are floating to weather after their duty as envelopes with which prayers are sent up above through billowing smoke of incense
now i have to pack to fly back home soon to see my mother hospitalised — certain days are just under the weather
wishing all my silent chants can be medicine for the woman who loves me to the moon and back
Fragrance of sambac Ferries the wish to the love Reborn with new scents.
——
The death of my beloved nephew at young age (22 yo) is one extreme turning point in how I see life and what is in it.
I am not sad anymore and not considering it a loss anymore. Just drying tears and grateful smiles so — remembering how good his life was. How someone with so big mental wound could survive life by serving others in such a fun witty ways. 🥰 We now know how much we loved him and how tremendously he loved us.
Yet….
reborn
not interested in talking in group except for work;
prefer seeing life more lightly yet deeply at the same time;
choose to seclude myself by doing what I can do genuinely; if not, I will stay away;
respond to human interaction differently and it might have hurt people in outer rings; it doesn’t matter
still the same human being yet not the same anymore;
so amazed how losing loved ones can change someone so significantly. And the reality shows me whom are real and unreal, true and untrue…. 💚
Life is mysteriously beautiful.
Thank You so very much!
Alfatihah.
my younger brother’s 1st son was a newborn death; my older brother’s sons: one died at 10, the other at 22 — wishing them to be reborn with love, prosperity and luck 💕😊 you’re (always) in my heart and (sometimes) at my left wrist, boys! 💕💕😊
You are not a star. Never. A star brightly rises. A star magnificently sets. You might be upset As a star is what is adored By many. Don’t be a star, It is born, It dies. A seen star is thousands years of its history— Illusion.
You are the earth. Always. Who lets the sun rise And lets the sun set Sincerely. The earth is loved By many. When I see the earth I see a present moment Of everything about it. I am grounded to earth. It is where I live, love and laugh
Sincerely.
You are A star not.
——
a star is a dream; the earth is where I live, love and laugh sincerely
Note: picture is from Pinterest; I wanted a Java island on the earth with stars above yet could not find any 🙂
Once I knew not Or cared not That all struggled Until I sat still To feel the whole cosmos Within me. Now I know And know That all inevitably suffer By choice though. And so I chant Wishing… May all beings be happy, free from suffering.
And to you Across the ocean. With red roses, May you be happy, free from suffering.
Journey becomes light When promise is fully paid. The breeze flows sweetly.
——
beautifully ready for melukat this morning to clean and clarify my life intension and for my dearest nephew ♥️ now his wish for melukat is fully paid — live happily in the other side, my dear 💕 and I have a good feeling that my life is on the right path with my heart losing no love
melukat in Tirtha Empul when it was still quiet this morning — no, I don’t like crowd 🙏🏼 don’t bring me to noisy parties!
This love is as strong as the glue A snail can spit on an aloe vera To cling even in a hottest day. Your logic is as cold as the air A morning can loosen nature’s desire In a split second love will go away.
This love is unrequited, That logic always wins. Our bond is thinly formatted As hair splitting to twins.
It is just a dream, Though dream of a meadow. It is truly a wish, Yet wish of a shadow.
Love will open a bundle of joy. Logic will open a bundle of satisfaction.
They are happy differently.
Understood—
——
reminding me of how strong love can bond a heart to a dream that won’t come true ♥️
dear heart, release…. the logic will never let you win 🙏🏼
My friends are plants grown in a garden called My heart.
Grow as you wish. As you are. There are only two rules here: Be you responsibly And root strongly. Otherwise, you’ll Get weak Then withered. And Dry Then....
——
I wrote a poem in Bahasa Indonesia in my iPhone about FRIENDS while enjoying today’s lunch: And just now when opening Twitter, I found a thread about 12 levels of friends described in Arabic.
Do you know, Beloved…? In the middle of a water Tossing wildly a Land Stretching like a tail, Tinted with merry tiny blossoms Willing to smile In May summed up are they. Bearing light fragrance Infusing air elegantly For you, only for you—
Do you also know, Beloved…? I lullaby some seeds That wake up lazily, Stretch to the sky Then sprinkle perfumes With thousands of flowers In the 9th month Being warm and fuzzy In the other half For you, only for you—
For you Whether to take Or to give up. There is no heaviness in a no. There is no lightness in a yes. There is pain in silence. Yet life is so rich, There is always cure For any wound. Let poems sing heart songs For you, only for you.
What I see… I am in a forest away From comfort of thought. I am not in a castle In which mind is blunted. My heart finds home In which 25 prophets And 1000 saints Have found the paths.
It is a way That all Prophets and Saints bless.
I am home With the flow That brings petals To where fragrance blends With clarity of fluids, Various fluids Gliding to a vast ocean Of love.
——
i don’t care anymore what i am called by them — Muslim? Alhamdulillah, Sufi? Subhanallah, Buddhist? Masya Allah
what i am sure of is that my sutra is sutra of love with which all prophets and saints have travelled, whatever religions they have been associated with
The spell of friendship Is not F R I E N D S H I P. To spell friendship Is to put some magical words To a bond So it lasts forever In love.
My friends put a spell on me. I put a spell on them. We put a spell on each other To stay together Gleaming like stars In a cluster Or in different ones blinking to each other.
How beautiful friendship is When bonded with genuine drops Of souls And Adorned with true colours Of hearts.
How real friendship is When soul and heart Are sprinkled on to A life that hopes And loves.
——
this book of friendship — no where to find in souvenir shop but found in the heart of friends
fun and true and real and genuine 💕 friendship with my beloved nephews
A rope might help To travel to the other side, Yet it might be not. Being in the other side Is not always wise As a wise is That that means Decision for the right. Right time Right place Right person That might be Not right: Not always right amount Not always right distance Not always right calculation. This rope is right Only when it is about Knowing that pulling or releasing Are both hurting Right where and when it is decided to.
this?
this one is wiser for now 💕
might not be the right one, yet being relaxed and easy is sometimes the right one for now — i just don’t want to think too much; wisdom is not always hard 💕
Time flies Space shrinks Moment signifies Does it even matter?
You farewelled Sweetly to all, Yet no one knew Until you departed.
This selfish self Has learnt selflessness That it is about forgiving regrets And escorting you to the grand gate.
We weeped heavy tears, You’ve left long love trails. We thought we loved you, You’ve ignored our selfish wails.
You smiled at the long line That witnessed your selfless joy. We smiled to you, thanking life For giving privilege of having that boy.
Thank you For magically turning us From egoistical arrogance To considerate beings.
Thank you, My dear boy.
——
Gathering after his funeral, most of us shared about our experiences with him in his life time. Most of stories were his witty strength, social awareness and artistic talents. Many were also about how much he ate — he was not a picky eater.
Yet some kept saying “I can’t stop crying”, “I was one of those giving him last sacred bath”, “I trembled one night before he passed away”, “Why did you leave me?”, “I am so lonely without him around”, blahblahblah of all expressions showing how people experience you. Great self you are!
Yet does it matter? We mostly are all regretting what we didn’t do what we should have done with and to you. We mostly have difficult time to forgive ourselves for not doing so with and to you.
It is about you — all the administration and ceremonies. Yet at the end it is about forgiving ourselves from what we have regretted and about accepting that you are not physically around anymore.
You? Vito, you pass this cycle and enjoy the happiness beyond our joy!
My tears will dry; yet my love will keep flowing to you.
💕
Salaam.
we’ll continue striving for what you’ve always dreamt of — loving family and wise fun personality!
people said it is the longest line of funeral procession for a young man of an ordinary family — everyone said it is because of your true and selfless self
As pink As rose My heart Chants you Forever As love That throbs Through blood And tears And breath And words In heart And body And mind And spirit And soul
you might not like pink rose but this is the most beautiful petals with which i can sprinkle with the least tears for your no-turn-back journey 💕
our last Bali tour with Ocka was our most testing trip — the rain and storm and damn how would you stop driving every three hours and said “Mbak, i am hungry i can die driving” 😁
our love is about laughter and wit ♥️
my broken heart in romance has turned to a minuscule particle compared to my broken heart of losing my beloved nephew
you were young yet always the one giving me wise words to keep being my own self — you were right “you are alone but never lonely, look at your poems, all struck me with fire to stay strong!”
you were poorer than me yet always the one telling me to keep positive yet humble
you were as fun as my soul won’t be yet you are a soul as wise as my wisdom can’t be
what about our next trips that must be cancelled? you just walk and leave me a beautiful gaping hole in my heart
we love you with or without words, we lose you with or without tears
I LOVE YOU AND WE’LL MEET AGAIN IN A BETTER PLACE AND TIME
I won’t, Beloved Take you from what completes you. Your here now is that, not this. This garden with lemongrass Is my here and now I love.
——
Ibu sent me this picture that she took by herself after forever saying “I can’t take good pictures like you, don’t ask me any” — 3 slices of some cake I bought online (sold through Twitter) and delivered directly to her ♥️
she said “thank you for the ‘spikoek’, it is amazingly yummy”
my mother’s love is so huge that i don’t realise like seeing a sheet of paper from 1 millimeter away 💕
i am enough with a few humble friends that truly understand me so i won’t anymore beg friendship from that not even wanting to know who i am 😁
This heart blooms and blooms Leaving quiet budding season, Emerging from mud.
——
One of my friends complained why all my poems are about love, like I am either falling in love or broken hearted day by day.
After some time of chat and juice against wine glasses that friend answered one’s own question.
“Ya! Life is about loving: smoothly or broken-heartedly. Now I know what you mean. I thought all were about romance! Ahhh!”
I tried a sip of wine from that friend’s glass.
“You’ll get drunk more at home and write more love poems!” Said that friend laughing.
“Yes, I won’t give up this love whatever interpretation is thrown about me to me. I am thankful enough to have very few true friends who understand.”
Salaam.
true love is too tasteless for those weighing it with money; yet too complex for those weighing it with faith — for those not knowing the true secrets behind words, love is just a marriage between distrust and fear hidden in sparkling plastic 🙃 i know love is still beautiful whether it is well understood or misunderstood 💕
In a bottle of perfume You are the heart note. In a cup of coffee You are the acidity. In a full course meal You are the entree. In a life of a human You are the love.
This head, Beloved Is full of colours That suck all memories To an abandoned landfill Where poems dance in joy Recycling precious moments Into glowing beads Jingling around a neck, Chuckling on millions of love wishes That scatter on a table.
——
yeah! this is one busiest corner of my head everyday! messy yet full of love 💕😀
rike jokanan 
You must be logged in to post a comment.