Life is poetry
Singing songs to a quiet heart
To be pretty noise.
me trying on the “Booty on mega mendung” batik
Life Is Poetry
Tag: love
Faithful
Show me, Beloved
That it's real and right and true.
Says a shy lover.
The Quran is always a good advisor to me. It never lets me down.
When I’m so doubtful of self worth, it always sends me encouragement to be always faithful to what’s shown to me, without others’ validation or justification. Trust me an ordinary human being in whatever age period will still question herself when a strong blow of question “who do you think you are? know your worth” comes to her especially from those who are supposed to at least “shut the mouth”. 😁❣️
What a day!
This verse that randomly opened just now is QS Assajdah #24. For those reading this as outside world this verse is about leaders in a group; yet to me as the Quran can always be about what’s within, this is about leader within me which is the Heart.
The heart will only lives and be alive only when the whole body agrees to be patient and trust what’s shown through the existing senses. Be patient, dear self. Trust the process and the symbols and signs shown to you.
I will just walk to where love and compassion is leading me. Be it real. Be it true. Be it right.
Amen.
💙
Enlightened (ranting)
Pages of a book
Dog-eared, yellowed
And wrinkle
Of fingers stroking--
I’m not a religious person yet I love checking holy books, books about local faith around the world and writings about philosophy. To me wisdom scatters everywhere; it might not be the best sources of wisdom but reading them has opened my horizon of thinking and I’ve become an open-minded and free thinker to some extent.
There is one more thing about checking those books is getting personal advice that I can’t get from even the closest people around me– not because I don’t trust their love to me but I don’t trust their level of bias in analysing my situation. They are not open enough to accept me who is very open in thinking yet very morally guarding to my own self (two paradoxes my closest people still can’t understand up to now). That’s why I “consult” the Quran, the holy book aside from Bible that I’ve been familiar with since I was young (my father was a Christian).
Today I felt the need of consulting the Quran; I prayed, recited Alfatihah the opening suuraah of the Quran, greeted those I respect in life, took a short silence and randomly opened the book.
Here is the answer from the Quran.
QS Annuur #38
That Allah may reward them [according to] the best of what they did and increase them from His bounty. And Allah gives provision to whom He wills without account.
My heart stopped doubting. Is it because of the Quran? Is it because of to whom I prayed? Is it because of my trust? Maybe one of them. Maybe all of them. And I don’t want other possibilities because I won’t let myself doubt what’s been confirmed.
Thank you, dear Quran for being my closest friend, a book that opens all the doors of light. I might not be religious but you’re always the #1 consultant I’ve turned to for the past 33 years and probably will be for the rest of my life.
Light, light, my heart becomes so light.
Thank you❣️
Cracked (ranting)
Don’t crack under pressure. Maybe only “that watch” can do that; while most including human beings definitely crack under certain pressure like ceramics that can even break simply because of some delicate qualities that should crack to let some component of life lessons enter the inner realm of the pressurised persona.
I don’t mind cracking under certain pressure as long as life lessons can smoothly diffuse themselves into the liquid vortex within. Then as gold in kintsugi, they mend what’s cracked leaving golden map showing myself where to find a way of acceptance & letting go.
If I don’t crack, I will always look perfect with no guilt splashed, no criticism slashing, no confrontation exercising, no discussion & argument heated then calming, no accountability assessed. Looking perfect as a being accumulate some layers of avoidance to make mistakes, emotional exhaustion, failure of focused self reflection, forced compatibility even within self, self centernedness. Oh no! I prefer being an imperfect persona in front of many rather than being a looking perfect with so much burden within.
Being imperfect doesn’t mean I’m bad. It just shows me that I’m a human being and it’s fine to look ugly sometimes. As a human being I want to be vulnerable so I can be as playful as possible genuinely; so I can speak my truth with ease in a sweet way; so I can love other human being with no shame; so I can be as imperfect as nature wishes me to be outside my work (hallooow at work I need to be perfectly doing what I’m assigned for sure)!
If only I can directly tell some of human beings I know how perfect you’ve been looking and you need to stop being perfect, I’ll tell you wholeheartedly while assuring that you are free to be you the condition that you agree to heal together with no pretense and that you agree to be true to life.
Dear humans, you’re a ceramics not that watch that won’t crack under pressure. You deserve to be kintsugi decorated with golden map showing love where to flow.
Yes, I love to get answered as an answer is like lacquer reassembling cracked ceramics and yes I give myself answer because I deserve vulnerability, my own vulnerability; truth, my own truth; honesty, my own honesty– with love and respect.
Yes and I’ll let my heart crack again with better understanding and acceptance why it should crack then let life apply kintsugi on me.
Life is just like that…. 💙☺️🌻
this is me, imperfect & vulnerable as I’m kintsugi
☺️
kintsugi in a nutshell
Mandarin Duck
Mandarin duck swims
Through calm water to the edge
Welcoming the breeze.
my small work of art to be, “the lone swimmer, love bird of the east”
Light
Life is just like that. Like what?
Like whatever she perceives--
Be she fun,
Or gloomy--
Be she colourful,
Or dull--
Be she letting go,
Or attaching--
Be she alone,
Or together--
Life is just like
Her in whatever version
She wants her to be.
my life shall be as light as my heart can be
I’ll always unload things unnecessary to clutch on as those things will only make my steps drudge while I’d be glad prancing
only with love….
….and love only
whatever they say….
….how much ever they think
I’m light, moving light, to the light
☘️
Evening
Evening, Love, is
Carnation in a glass vase.
Flickering candle--
Happiness
There's a space
That will always be spacious
How much ever it is loaded.
It's heart,
In which I keep
You as you are.
Eyes to Mind
What she needs, my love
A jar of coloured petals
That smile to her mind--
heliconia is always a nice welcome
or an orchid that’s bright
never a bottle of wine
just a cool towel and a cup of lemongrass tea next to a carnation
Sunset That Burns
It burns what has been packed
And ready to depart
From where a line between boundaries are drawn.
It burns with love.
It burns with life.
It burns forever,
An eternal flame.
it’s the 40th day of my mother’s passing today and we commemorate it through a Javanese traditional ceremony, assimilated with some Islamic tradition
one of the menu in the ceremony basket is “kacang cenggereng” (fried peanuts) which is not only a snack but also a symbol
it’s a symbol of respect to the one passing and hope that the passing is safely welcomed in the next life
yellow is a very suitable colour for my mother’s crossing day as it symbolises happiness
may she be happy to meet her Beloved
terima kasih, Ibu, please send my warm regard to my father
💛
yellow, Ibu 😁💛
Happy Birthday, Ibu
Sweet heart, Beloved
Lingers so long, stays alive,
Connects what across.
My mother is supposed to be 81 years old if she’s alive physically. I’m sure she’s happy across, seeing I’m happy. I know she knows I miss her everyday– there is still empty seconds in the morning when I wake up seeing no WhatsApp message from her.
I’ll keep all about you in me forever, Ibu. Love ya much much❣️
Send my best regard to my father who probably is sitting with you all the time talking about you offspring.
Terima kasih, Ibu.
the last screenshot of our video call on Aug 16, 2025
even with just half of her teeth, she still is beautiful
💕
Marble Cake
Marble cake, my Love
Calls me to sweeten my days
With sugar and scent.
marble cake is one favourite of mine; it’s sweet that never fails to make me smile anytime I bite from every slice of it
me is about meaning and my marble cake is not excluded
like marble, it’s layered of taste, chocolate, vanilla, butter, crisp, moist & fluf exactly like memories of my life that is always full of love
once my readers asked me love will bore you and stop you from singing; I said no as my love isn’t about what’s outside, it’s about what’s skin, flesh, bones and marrow, it’s about muscle and about memories– the whole concept and its compliance altogether that will never fade away through known dimension
and love isn’t about someone else other than me, it’s about how layers of truth are formed with all the falling in love and broken heart in life, even the thinnest love & the slightest broken heart
have you ever seen an orchid shows its bud? that’s a thinnest falling in love
have you ever waited a taxi then suddenly the driver cancelled the order? that’s a slghtest broken heart
I’ve been falling in love to someone that’s so special: that’s a thickest love and losing someone that I’ve loved the most: that’s the biggest broken heart
and those in the middle, a lot
yes, my life is like marble and also marble cake, layered with tastes
and I never want to trade it with anything else
☘️
Love Daily
Love daily, my love
Chosen, cleaned, soaked, cooked and packed
To serve forever--
chicken biryani for lunch is like falling in love after broken hearted
💙☺️❣️
sprinkled friend onion on the layer rice & chicken
💕
boiling rice
marinating chicken in herbs + yogurt
another key to a nice biryani
fying onion
the herbs to boil the rice
basmati rice after 30′ soaked in water
Humming Heart (ranting)
She's a hummingbird
Flying her colours and voice.
Garden of Eden--
If people ask what one thing I’d do at home when I’m doing other relaxing things?
The answer: humming❣️
Humming is the power of someone who loves singing but not memorise the lyrics. It’s what makes the amateur singer feel so proud of herself of singing beautifully without words, voice and tones are right, words are hidden. 😁
Today my household chores are not as many as before yet still I want to be home longer; I have a book to read then share my reading to my family and friends. I also have a sheet of white fabric to experiment shibori stitching.
Saturday is never boring with humming.
my mom used to ask “what are you cooking for this Saturday?” then “that’s delicious! wanna try! cook it for us when you’re home” then I would call her sharing laughter & jokes
no I’m not sad but I miss her love, compassion, stories, jokes, intimacy between mother and daughter
I’m so blessed with her being my mother; and still so blessed to have siblings and in-laws that understand intimacy is the glue of our family
thank you❣️
time to let my physical, heart & soul hum softly as part of my gratitude for the love around me 💕
Not Sung
Our language is language of the heart.
When it's not heard, it means
The thread is cut,
The line is off,
The connection is cut,
The songs are not sung
Anymore.
Thank you for this one year.
today’s conversation in the pantry is about rejection: without telling to whom & by whom, just possibility told tales by diners that met for just 30 minutes:
personal business project that’s not approved
library planned visit that’s postponed
afternoon tea invitation in Shangrilla that’s rejected
love that’s unrequited
story that’s not continued
all are one U-turn forced by life to meet the right direction
💕
The Load
The load, Beloved
So much she can give to you--
Whatever she keeps
RC Gorman’s work of art
the woman is guarding what she keeps in the terracotta jar silently sitting next to her like a soul that she lives with, that she fills with richness of life full of love & hope, that someday she will share with that patient enough to sit down with her silently & fun enough to enjoy life as it is
life is beautiful
☘️💕
Terima Kasih
Kata orang aku sedih,
Bukan sedih.
Aku hanya rindu
Padamu
Ibu,
Yang padamu rasa terima kasihku tak lekang oleh waktu,
Yang padamu rasa cintaku tak pernah layu oleh masa,
Yang padamu rasa rinduku tak pernah kering oleh panas,
Yang padamu rasa ikhlasku makin padat sebelum menjadi ledakan saat kita bersatu.
Terima kasih, Ibu.
what I can remember about you, Ibu 🥰❣️
maybe this is what you’re doing now, Ibu 😁❣️
Balance Is
What is balance?
When I can walk on a line nicely with little slipping,
When I can wipe my tears soon then smile again,
When I know that there is one that keeps me still within although I look so rocked and shaken without,
When I can still express my feelings between what's called good and bad, right or wrong, while actually all is good and all is right--
Balance is
Knowing that I can wish whatever I want
Knowing that the net is always
You.
balancing in any situation is what life is about
☘️
6666
On the way to office a car passed; its plate number: 6666
At young I studied Quran-based numerology in which 6 is equivalent with the letter ح the initial of the word حبل (from which the word cable was derived) which is associated with rope, & connection or any function or meaning the same shade to them.
The word cable best describes as it indicates “a rope loadable with current or energy or surge or electricity” just like connection between humans.
Do you believe the strongest connection between humans is that between mother & her biological child? I didn’t believe even at least 3 people warned me of how “painful” it was for them to be left by mother, until she passed away. Now I can feel it: like the surge of electricity stopped abruptly, no current flows to reach the other side, there is a big gaping hole waiting for occupant. Dramatic? That’s what it feels & I can’t be more thankful for being able to feel it– I thought I didn’t strongly connect to my mom; it’s wrong. If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have had this “I miss you” everyday. 🥰
No, no I’m not sad at all now. I was sad only until the 7th day of “tahlil”, then hearing bunch of confessions how good she was as a human. My mother’s death is never a tragedy, it’s always what she’d been waiting for: to rest from the earthly drama (I can’t imagine how she could be so kind & patient), meeting her husband (the handsome kind gentlemen) & ultimately meeting her Beloved (maybe it’s the only one she’d wanted).
For those (esp at my age) not connecting to mother with all your heart, connect now. I’m almost 100% sure all children have missed their mother’s point or if not they’ve consumed her heart ignorantly. ❤️🩹
Alfatihah to her, more & more with bigger & bigger love– See you. 💕☘️❣️
He & I Might Be Wrong, But
As a Muslim I am grateful that someone prominent attested about Islam this way.
I’m not a religious one but I read the Qur’an and Sirah (history of Prophet Muhammad) with very little external guidance as I’ve lost some trust to the religion authority interpreting the teaching & causing distrust to the real teaching of the religion.
I might be wrong but I’m trying to seek what’s relevantly meaningful to my life from the content of the Qur’an and Sirah. And I pray that I’ve got the intelligence, integrity, ethics, humanity that’s wrapped as love.
Salam.
he might be wrong just like me but at least he is experiencing things from his own very hands to tell what it is
happy weekend, everyone
fyi, it said the videos are unavailable; not sure what WordPress is trying to do but both are about Joe Rogan attesting about Islam which (according to him) is totally against what have been described by the West
💕
Red Bird
Red bird, Beloved
Flies home bringing her redness
Welcoming the light.
it takes some time to accept that the woman called mother has left me physically
it’s ok, it’s just taking time to accept that there’s a hole called “missing you, ibu” anytime unexpectedly
thank you, ibu
♥️
Love Isn’t Faraway
I feel so languid,
Between losing and letting go.
Memories are swarming,
Reminding that life is short
And farewell is just an inch away.
What's grey has turned to lively colours that stay.
What's dark has rekindled what's dead and now alive.
Love is never faraway,
It is for a while hiding
To show up when hope is fading away.
There's nothing I hear
But heartbeats singing love song
From afar, moving closer and closer.
Love is never faraway,
It's just hiding to find a way
To disclose what's true in
Expression and will always stay.
my last wefie with her, physically faraway but her love always stays
Riding The Wind
Riding the wind, Love
Across the route Love chooses
On behalf of love--
wind is pushing her pedaling a journey to the heart of life
Head Bowed to Love
I'm bowing this head
Like sunflower to the sun
That sets then slips down.
It’s not easy to lose. It’s not easy to lose my mother. It’s not easy to lose my mother who has been so gently loving all of us. It’s not easy to lose my mother who has been so gently loving all of us with the ups and downs in our relationships. It’s not easy to lose her indeed.
This is the day on which I have to totally live normal without her presence. Today is the last day when most of our family members gather in her home. One by one we are going back to reality bringing a gaping hole in our heart called “mother, how are you today”.
No WhatsApp. No call. No monthly bank transfer. No laugher of silly things. No sad cry. No gossip about my late father. No “what’s for lunch”. No “have you taken your pills?”. No this. No that. Small things that built a castle called love have stopped coming; one by one the memories that we’ve saved fade away.
I just hope that this castle can be a temple where I worship love, not other types of building. 💕
Forgotten
Love can live in a song,
But what can love do when a song is
Forgotten?
None but an old book,
Dusty and unread--
Life is just like that.
it’s ok to be forgotten as life is just like that
love never lives in a vacuum chamber; it grows with bias of lovers who mightn’t have known deeper layers of love that can only be clearly understood with the understanding of one’s self, never with anything else
silently I’ve paid attention to someone and how one acts in public
the last song has been forgotten so it’s time for me to truly withdraw – no I don’t want to get hurt by someone that I hope not hurting me (but doing it on and on maybe without one’s knowledge of hurting me)
it’s my last day of bereavement leave of my dear mother’s passing and I want to spend it with full relaxation, watching whatever within my reach for the next one hour, then read books on and off the whole day inserted with writing what’s popped out in mind & talking to families members who are still staying until end of this week in my mother’s home
I just want to rest….
Do You Know?
Do you know, my love
Love has no definition
But that undefined--
this love is as old as the earth before she was born….
this love is as vast as the universe and non universe of which she was yet not born….
this love is as deep as the riverbed that has no end of the abyss that greets….
this love is as true as the love itself that has no definition as truth is layered and its finale is love itself
I just want to be loved by love that I love in which love loves love itself.
❣️
Ibu
It’s my first morning without my mom’s messages.
It feels….
Singapore, 2017 with Ibu – she didn’t know I was sick & neither did I yet she complained about my body weight that according to her was indicating something she didn’t know what…. a mother knows her daughter
It was so fun – everyday was jalan-jalan… I know she didn’t enjoy being out of hone too long as she was a homebody but I made her
terima kasih, Ibu
💕
Ibu
Aku sayang Ibu.
our last video call
the last time I saw you was just yesterday when I had a video call with Yogi & Ocka – you smiled sweetly ☺️☘️💕❣️
terima kasih, Ibu…. 😘☘️❣️
Ibu
Aku tak pernah tahu
Rasa apa yang lain
Darimu buatku
Selain cinta.
Aku tak pernah tahu
Hadiah apa yang lain
Darimu buatku
Selain doa.
Tapi kau pasti tahu
Aku salah paham akan cintamu,
Aku sering lupa mendoakanmu,
Kau juga tahu aku akan tahu.
Aku tahu.
Jangan ragu, Ibu.
ibu, you annoyed me by not opening the video ☺️❣️
in Jogja ☘️💙❣️
Ibu
No one, Ibu
But
You
Who loves me without questioning,
Trusts me without doubting,
Gives all to me without expecting,
Lets go off your belonging for me without counting,
Does all for me without calculating.
Is it because you are a perfect human being?
But no!
It's because you see your perfection in me and
See my imperfection in you.
I always said I don't want to be like you.
You're too perfect to be copied:
Your patience:
Being abandoned,
Left,
Betrayed,
Cheated,
Lied to,
Hated,
Marginalised,
And so much more.
Your gift:
Being generous,
Kind,
Soft,
Lovely,
Caring,
Acceptant,
Lovable,
Humane,
And so much more.
Dear, Ibu.
I want to talk about you
All the time now
Because I can't talk to you
Anymore.
Yes I can
But without your voice
Kicking softly on my eardrums
Giggling about our silly days.
But I assure you:
I am letting you go wholeheartedly,
I will take care of your legacy,
I will love those whom you love, too.
Ibu, I wish I could still
hug you....
ibu, terima kasih ya….
rike jokanan 
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