graphs of my Universe
Sweet surprises march
Silently following a season
Bringing colours to the sight.
Don’t hold breath,
They stay quite long
To give more space
For wow! and whoa!
—
I think I don’t give my orchids enough attention that I always see the bud rather late— only when they are long enough to stand out.
Sorry….
And thanks much! for giving me surprises after several years not blooming.
Salaam.
Close your eyes tight
If you hate to see me.
You will fall asleep
Peacefully.
Unlucky you,
Beloved.
You cannot block your ears
If you hate my music.
Your earbuds will amplify it
Loudly.
You will get used to it
And die while joyfully humming it.
My music,
My breathing
Will become your music,
Your breathing.
A
Heart
Beats—
—
inspired by QS 15:29
One by one they fall,
Petals decompose to soil,
Fertilising life—
—
The green of beauty was there
Until the mist slithers around
And hides what was seen.
Nature is a mystery
Unrolls its scroll slowly
As if not wanting to hurt
The hands with which it is held.
The mist though will be beautiful
Before it is kissed by warm air
That whispers a song singing
“Melt away. Morning thanks you. Day, noon, after and night truly love you.
If space unvoiced between trees scripting can’t connect the dots, only light can do.”
In no time the sun is rising,
Then the mist is missed.
That is how the story begins.—-
Thanks, Michael for allowing me to repost this picture to illustrate my verses. God bless you.
A Journey into Mist 4
Fly, leaf with the wind
Pushing you to where you go
For joy and safety.
—
Prime time must be secured,
Said they.
Wait! In what definition?
Time to get mature?
Time to board the flight?
Time to earn TV ads?
Time to be patient.
It’s this time
Yet
No time primarily.
—
At young age I was told that there were 3 types of need: primary, secondary and tertiary in which primary included shelter, clothing and food. Now my primary need increases to 4 with internet connection added. On the same floor of my apartment there are at least 17 wifi links connectible or locked including mine. My mother’s house has been installed with wifi so she can enjoy more information and entertainment, her grandchildren can play games freely when staying overnight, her daughter (me) can work with ease when visiting and (i guess knowing my mother’s (over)generosity) so some next door neighbours’ children can sneak the wifi to browse around from their homes.
While GOOD internet connection is a primary need in some places, it is still secondary in some others. Outside Singapore (even when traveling to Japan) I feel “tortured” by the low speed. In Indonesia (oh people will all have patience as their super power after dealing with the internet connection outside prominent cities) and other South East Asia countries (please, Singapore might be a European country lost among us) good internet connection might be secondary or even tertiary.
Uh and oh are my normal expressions when I spend my holiday or long weekends in my mother’s house. My nephews and nieces who visited me in Singapore has claimed “There is no word “loading” in your home. In here you have to wait for a while because loading is a must process. Be patient. Be patient. Be patient, dear. Hahaha….” 😁
And yes, some work cannot wait but have to wait until I arrive home because internet connection is not yet a primary service every time everywhere.
Salaam….
Time is a fortress
Protecting from memories
Of love that once bloomed.
—
Met
In a circle
Glowing
In their own lights.
No disco ball,
No loud music,
No expensive wine,
No trendy bar,
No dancing floor,
No smoke,
No things fancy,
No luxury,
None—
Oh!
They are not that innocent.
They gossip those funny facts,
They laugh at each others
And at others,
They munch baskets of food,
They drink gallons of water,
They sip wine to tipsy,
They speak loud and lots,
They enjoy some music,
They gather humbly.
They oopsy WE do it worse
Just differently from other decent parties.
Ordinary we—
—
Between green and blue
There is this heart.
It adorns this white soul.
They adore each other.
One hums melodies to the other.
The other recites lyrics to the one.
One by one the stones are strung.
A strand, two strands, three strands—
They are jewels that embelish.
They beautify the beauty.
—
The rain is so sharp
It tears umbrella and skin,
Blinding soul with light.
—
Cloudy day’s hotter.
It keeps heat float on the soil,
inviting grand rain.
—
Colours, hues, shades, tints
In a garden strike the eyes
Wandering within.
—
I am on an emergency short leave to visit my mother as my mother is sick. A sister called saying “she doesn’t want to eat”, “she can’t sleep well”, “she doesn’t want to visit her doctor”, “she thinks it is her time”, blahblahblah…. Alamak! Although sometimes we think she can be a drama queen, we start to think seriously when she can’t sleep well.
The second day of my visit she already watered her plants that line along my sister’s narrow garden. She sang along while walking in her house. She ate one big chunk of fast food’s fried chicken that my nephews insisted taken away for her. She has been back to her nature after meeting her children and grandchildren whom she missed who are now laughing with her at every breakfast, lunch and dinner time.
This morning she happily greeted the newspaper lady delivering her favourite “Jawa Pos”, the lady said “good morning, Ibu, you look radiant again”. She also had a short chat with her front neighbour about rain, cats and plants.
I think sometimes you just need to meet someone to be healthy. 💗
Yesterday morning I joined her watering the plants and took pictures of some of the blooms that have always made us all smile.
Salaam.
How does it taste?
It is as whimsical
As walking up
An alp
In a rainy night.
It is as real
As tasting
A styrofoam
In a hot day.
—
What can a gift do?
Dance in the heart of friendship,
Rest in the friends’ soul—
—
Kinokuniya has much bigger collection than the bookstore in Changi airport; yet the books I buy for my friends are all from this airport. Is it because my search of books wanted by friends is always ready here? Or is it impulse buying? 😂
It doesn’t matter which one as long as it is for a good friend.
Salaam.
This corner is quiter,
Sitting on a placid lake,
Where still water
Hides a huge secret
Called love,
Is covered with a vast blanket
Called peace.
This corner is cozy,
Getting warmer and calmer,
Where a cat
Curls in a bed
Called dream,
Is lullabied with long slumber
Called hope.
How peaceful it is
Pampered with a life
Called humble.
Salaam.
—
Once upon a time
It began with
A mess,
Completed with
An expertise.
And it’s been tested
through space and time.
—
Sufficiently served—
Each season presents a gift
That is grateful for.
—
Find your gifts,
Share them
With those you love
Around you.
You must have them
As no one is missed.
—
Thanks for all the gifts. 💝
It might not be clear
As the mirror is not clean.
Reflection of
You on me
Is as clear as the song sung by the breeze,
Whistling softly
On to these eardrums.
Swoosh!
You whisper,
I could hear,
We both share unvoiced laughter.
Is that our smiles
Or grins
That we both share from miles away?
You
Are playing so well,
I
Stay hugging this heart
That shrinks with
Your coldness,
That shines with
Your old shadow.
Dear, heart.
Stay flawless mirror.
With you I see
Beloved.
Be it beast or beauty,
My love is worth reflecting clearly.
—
Melody of my soul
That I wish to connect to
You
Has flown away.
I see
You
Sing another melody
Not even of my tunes.
Love is unforceable.
Sweetly I can smile.
Amazingly I can pray.
These steps are farther and farther
Pushed away by
Your icy melody to me.
—
Floating and flowing
As is. Stones and whirls push her
To the sea of love.
—
Rain is beautiful. Its drops slip between her hair, washing off sadness.
—
Rice is cooked to be rice. It’s the same name, yet not the same. Raw then cooked—
—
Not under the bed, it’s what she’s slept with since she was a cute baby.
—
What is love day?
A day when love is precious?
Only once a year?
How stingy human being is!
To express love only on that day—
Maybe they are afraid
Of saying love to
That they love dearly.
Maybe expression is
Embarrassing and too low
That they dump it cruelly.
Maybe love is considered a myth
Scientifically unproven
That it is skipped.
Maybe….
So much maybe.
I will still love
You
In silence
As
Love has made my heart pretty
Although rejection and ignorance
Once made it ugly.
All days are my love days.
To my
Beloved—
—
—
Remembrance about the beloved is river flowing to the sea.
Feathers fall off from the wings of flying-high birds. Dreams ready to catch—
—
This heart sings. Its notes witness through pitch and tempo. Genres of the soul—
—
This heart is flowing fluid
Filling the soul with
Redness of bravery
And rage;
Pinkness of romance
And lust;
Orangeness of warmth
And attention craver;
Yellowness of glory
And jealousy;
Greenness of tranquility
And envy;
Blueness of peace
And mourning;
Whiteness of singularity,
And fear;
Blackness of mystery
And death.
When the soul blinks,
A spectrum ray chutes down
On to the ocean of mind,
Illuminates what’s to solve.
Is your face dyed as your heart is dyed, Beloved?
And your words
Your footsteps
Your breaths
Touch?
Or, layers of curtains shade your true colours?
—
Green everywhere accompanies traveler on the way to a gate.
—
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