Tag: poem

Floods come with big rain,
Worsened by the blocked drainage.
Leaving mud story

—

A big flood happened in Jakarta in Feb 2007. It trapped many people in the buildings for almost the whole day (even longer in some area) or inside cars for at least 6 hours (even more in some location). Those in the office just stayed in the office. We on the road moved inch by inch as only narrow part of the road was “safe” from water — no, no, not dry at all; it was standing water almost like ripply shallow ocean.

The cause of flood in Jakarta is the extremely heavy rain plus bad drainage system in Greater Jakarta.

I was on the road back in 2007 flood day for 8 hours feeling stuck: no food or drink, no toilet (the worst of all the experiences), with random collection of songs played in a music player low bat before even I reached half of a normal journey home.

It was only one day or two of misery; the next year we all laughed at each other’s story. A friend who peed in to a bottle in the car. A friend who decided to leave his car on the road and went home on foot finding the car moving far away from where it was left the next day. Some friends who cried afraid of losing chance to meet the family but the family especially children thought that flood was fun time. Many friends whose floors and walls were messily coated with mud mixed with rubbish and creepy crawly after the flood and they found stuff that were lost for years through cleaning the mud.

We’ve learnt the lessons yet it takes time to fix such a systemic issue. Jakarta, you can!

I’ve learnt my lesson too that tragedy + time = comedy. A simple equation without unknown factor except how much time is stretched. God speed!

Salaam.

simple equation, just 9 no complicated combination

Desperate Lovers

Learning, love, Poetic, This Person, Those People

Midnight is calling
With blaring sound in the aisle.
Desperate lovers—

—

Suddenly very loud voice of (maybe) two lovers walking down the aisle outside the hotel room laughing interrupted my sleep, and so interrupted my nightmare. Thank you and at the same time damn you!

Beloved, please send me back to slumberland again. 👀

❤️‍🩹

people say love is the answer but to me it is of too many unknown factors and elevations; too many assumptions and prejudices; why don’t people just say NO much earlier instead of vaguely communicating through codes and misleading messages – be free, desperate lovers, I am irrelevant to you

I just need a simple equation where only one unknown factor needs solution; this is my compatibility definition: simplicity, sincerity and trust; you are too good to be true; if you agree, set me free

Travel

Blessing is a swan
Walking, swimming and flying
Around garden lake.

—

when I was a girl, I wanted to be a flight attendant traveling around; thanks God I don’t deserve to be so I can be a passenger traveling to accompany them 🥰

A Name

Learning, life, love

The ripples on this heart
After a touch from a falling feather
Wrapped in a trivial memory
Of a name
Loaded with wisdom
Whispered silently
Forever.

Is this your name, Beloved?
Or mine?

—

Daydream

Learning, life

Water, air and hair:
She draws figures and colours
To a sweet daydream.

—

treating long hair = long sweet daydream (RC Gorman’s work of art)

Prancing in A Tunnel

A line of this heart remembers
What’s not even in memories.
Flowing clean river hidden in the sky—
The other line of this heart remembers
Only what’s imprinted through relations.
Murky pool standing around the earth—

Don’t have the right to be missed
With these limited memories.
This sky is hidden by the cloud—
Don’t have the right to be remembered
With absence of relations.
This earth is full of locked doors.

Can only miss what’s not imprinted.
Can only remember what’s hidden.
Still beautiful
Still amazing
Yet hidden
Yet secretive
Circled around between hearts
That read what’s not inky written.

There’s an end
To a dream.
It’s when coming true
Or coming dead.
And that’s the light at the end of a tunnel
Of light
Of wide spectrum
In which we’re prancing.

Choose your colour.

—

you don’t remember me, I do; you don’t see me, I do; you don’t hear me, I do; you don’t smell me, I do; you don’t taste me, I do; you don’t touch me, I do — when you close the door, I stay yet I’m blocked from you 💗

Too Good To Be True

Learning, love, Poetic

Too good to be true,
Yet too long to be untrue;
A dangling long dream—

—

this song is an ever green for a love that is beyond reach 🥰

my sister introduced Frank Sinatra to me through this song; I love you Mbak Yuda, you’re a best sister

strong message from Banksy; thank you, Banksy!

Ocean Welcomes

Ocean welcomes all,
River flown and rain fallen.
Friends in a friendship—

—

A meet up with my first mentor training me in my current profession almost 20 years ago. He and his wife are in Singapore to celebrate their 10th wedding anniversary and spend this whole day to meet up with me: shopping in Orchard Road Apple Store, browsing around looking for my favourite Japanese restaurant that was found closed down since 2021, having lunch (Indonesian food in Singapore….? Oh my) walking around Orchard Road, taking MRT for fun, enjoying evening coffee in Starbucks Bugis Junction before our farewell.

This wise couple gave me a bunch of advices to be this and to be that…. How lovely this life is to have friends who are willing to share their (personal) experiences for precious lesson learning.

Thank you, Pak Donny and Mbak Maya. See you in Jakarta! 💗🙏🏽

Alfatihah to my dear friends.

three mugs, different content, enjoyed from the same table

Walk Back Not

Learning, love, Poetic

There’s only one way to leave a forest: its edge. Throw away the doubt.

—

life is too precious to play complicated games; take away unknown factors from the equation and find a home 🥰

Yogyakarta, a place I dream of being a home when all these muscles give up the hardship – maybe yes maybe no, my bothers said; I said again “at least I know it is now my home”

Cold Breeze

Cold breeze blows softly
On weekends, and  on the leaves
Rustling about me.

—

welcome another weekend 💝

Almost

There is a moment
Called almost. It’s smile or sigh
Unexpectedly—

—

Picture borrowed from a good reading: http://thegctv.com/the-power-of-almost/

Us, Layered

Learning, life

You’re layers of light
Disclosed by layers of dark
To an open heart.

—

lapis Surabaya (Surabaya layered cake) 💕

What Is Money

Not answered questions:
Those to be pinned with meanings
By them questioning—

—

Surabaya did sum up my medium-length end-of-year holiday of mine. Hosted by one best friend, this 32-hour visit meant much to me: a lot of chat and enough food.

With this best friend open discussion is a routine. Last night’s discussion while driving around the city was everything about money. We both treat money differently. She is a better financial planner, I am a learner.

We used to be curious about what money truly was. Money discussion had always been a hot topic before and last night we both finally agreed that money can be defined as anything according to the one managing it.

We know different types of friends and their behaviour towards money. There are friends who meticulously count money (stingy), friends who think money is a symbol of welfare (social status), friends who consider money is everything (arrogant), friends who consider money is treasure (stupid), friends who consider money is nothing (careless), friends who don’t believe that money is a thing (maybe almost dead), friends who have little money (poor), friends who constantly borrow money (lazy). Complete experience. 🙂

What is money to us? We both don’t have special place for money at the same time we have special space for money. It is a tool. It is the replaceable at times, the irreplaceable at others. It is what it is with given context. We both agree that a question of “what is money” doesn’t need an accurate answer; it just needs honest response. Answer is too rigid and feels like a reaction; response is more flexible and almost a wisdom. Example? If having money makes us think we are more respectable than others, that is an accurate answer. If having no money makes us think we are less than others, that is an accurate answer. If having money makes us more functional as human beings in some situation, that is an honest response. If having no money makes us less complaining and harder working, that is an honest response.

We both don’t expect to be in forever comfort by having so much money yet don’t want to live uncomfortably because of having not enough money. We simply want to have sufficient amount as what is needed in life.

This visit puts me back on track that “life is just like that” at the same time “life is worth fighting for and beautifully living” with good will and a small touch of power from money.

Before driving me to the airport, she commented on my eyes.

BF: Have you put eyeliner?

Me: No

BF: Told you to always put eyeliner. You have one?

Me: Ya

BF: What colour?

Me: Brown

BF: No, no. Try blue.

Me: (frown on my forehead). I don’t have blue one.

BF: Try this. (handing a blue eyeliner to me)

Me: (reluctantly putting blue eyeliner on both eyes)

BF: Look at that! Brighter eyes! Ok, take it. Wear blue eyeliner more.

Me: Ok, as long as not green that turns me to a green-eyed. How much is it?

BF: I am not selling it to you. A tiny token of friendship. Not everything should be paid with money. Thanks for the birthday gift, too.

Thank you. Happy birthday, Madam Scorpio.

See you again.

Salaam.

Manusia

Learning, life, Poetic, This Person

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!!! 💝

thank you 💝 for making me a human being; I won’t give up moulding this self to be loyal to being humane

On The Move

Off days on the move
Between cities, finding me
Missing one city—

—

This evening we sat down in a cafe which is never my favourite to do. A new friend said “Singapore is the least favourite city of mine.” and I didn’t mind. Yet suddenly something knocked on my heart; it triggered me to miss a home.

The orchids that greet me with no complaint. The books that wait for me patiently. The laundry that stand by until I let them sit nicely in the cupboard. The floor that shines after some mopping. The air that hugs me through rain and shine. The warm feeling of safety and security.

How I miss myself in a home which I officially call a home. A weird feeling about Singapore that is truly now to me a home.

See you soon, my humble abode. 💝

Salaam.

missing a pink lily, I’ll get one when I’m home 🙂

Visit

Learning, life, Map It!, Poetic

Garden of the death
Where pray and wish are whispered
To eternity—

—

gate to the bathing pool for women; women should at least take ablution before entering the graveyard complex

gate to the graveyard complex of kings of Mataram; visitor can only enter this enclosure by wearing Javanese apparel: *kemben* for female and *surjan* for male

as I didn’t want to wear *kemben*, I preferred not entering the graveyard complex and decided to take some pics (with my bag) under a tropical fruit tree called *kepel* aka *Stelechocarpus burahol*

Friendship

Learning, life, Poetic, Those People

Hello, dear friendship.
This ship is sailing smoothly,
Storms don’t ruin our cruise.

—

Four are (fake) backpackers. One is (true) camper. We all sail together in a ship called friendship.

Alfatihah.

💝

a visit to a best friend’s youth center, this woman dedicates her life to accompany those needing support; the main house is for the classes, sitting room and kitchen; the front is a *pendhopo* for bigger discussion group plus tiny *senthong* for library

a visit to a best friend, a Javanese dancer cum lecturer, the wife of a late most well-known puppeteer in the country and the mother of a most sought-after teenage puppeteer in the island 💝 god bless her and family 💗 dear photographer, why do you always block me in group selfie? 🙃

Yuki after playing with my dress 😍 hey, you’ll meet a vet , you’d better watch out 😁

Feel Good

Learning, Map It!

Don’t let anything and anyone be a happiness snatcher even if they hurt you unintentionally or intentionally.

—

Feel good is successfully deciphering the codes in my life.

final hunt of interior doors and window done!

4 windows, 3 doors – not easy to find lovable ones in tact in high quality; thanks to an antique collector who is willing to let go off his collection to me 🙏🏼

Green Backyard

Learning, life, Map It!, Those People

The green yard behind
Is where greets and smiles soft-land
On the plate and glass.

—

Jiwa Jawi’s my backyard – found that the owner is a good friend of my best friend’s. she briefed me about the environment and seems that i can only raise cats, not dogs 😁

torch ginger aka *kecombrang* one of the major herbs grown within Jiwa Jawi, the more than 15,000sqm-garden-home

with neighbours to be after 6-hour chat filled with warmth laughter and experience sharing 💝 I humbly thank you!

A Home before A Home

Learning, Map It!, Poetic

Wondered about home.
Has wandered finding a home.
She’s learnt she’s a home.

—

Feel good is feel home wherever she is.

not bored (yet) with this place, d’Omah is my *omah* before my *omah* is fully ready for weekend getaway

Mbah Petruk, you’re not supposed to be in my bathroom – ladies only 😆

Flowers for The Dead

Red rose on white tomb:
Greeting to another world
That sees but says not—

—

Nyekar is one tradition that many Javanese still keep until today. Nyekarcomes from the word sekar that means flower. Nyekar is sprinkling flowers on to someone’s tomb as part of a prayer to the loved ones lying under the tomb.

Javanese pin a meaning to the word and activity of nyekar by relating it with the flowers’ fragrance, colours and shapes. The fragrance and beauty of the flowers sprinkled on to the tomb are sent as supplementary to the prayer whispered by those “visiting the dead”. At the same time it is to remind the living that it should be the good deed and memories of the dead to be cherished; bad memories and bad deed should be neutralised through forgiveness — not easy but doable.

Aside from flowers Javanese add boreh as part of the flowers sprinkled. Boreh literally means to spread or to smear cream or paste on to skin. Borehis mixture of ground dlingo (Acorus calamus L) and bengkle or bengle or bangle (Zingiber cassumunar). Dlingo has a kerata basa (acronym) of elingothat means to remember. Bengkle has a kerata basa of becik kelakuane that means good deed. In short, boreh is added to the flowers to emphasize the importance of remembering the good deed of the dead they visit.

What a beautiful visit is made to the dead by those Javanese who understand what they sprinkle on to the tomb of their loved ones.

So, no it is not just beautiful flowers or flowers arrangement; more than that, it is the beautiful meaning that Javanese pinned to the flowers.

Salaam.

the best remembrance is remembrance to the death – I picked one rose from my sister’s garden and put it on my father’s tomb; we don’t miss him as his good deed is always with us

Mother’s Story

Learning, life, Poetic, Those People

Tragic is comic
After fermentation time.
Dark jokes bring bright joy.

—

We always remember how our father loved our mother. He liked giving gifts to her and doing household chores like cleaning the floor and doing heavy laundry. Yet he also enjoyed teasing my mother around; his goal was to make her angry just to show that he was good at calming her down. 😂 Yet his strong affection to our mother did one extreme discomfort to her and some of us.

This morning my older siblings asked mother to re-tell a story that we the younger don’t record well as we were too young to save the moment. While they laughed before she started telling the story, we three waited curiously.

Mother: Once I went with my friend to a beauty parlour. She wanted to have her hair cut.

Younger children: With whom?

Mother: (mentioning a name that we are familiar with)

All children: (commenting about mother’s friend who happened to be a very fashionable woman at that time)

Mother: She said that I should have my hair made curly or at least wavy so I could look different. I said no because I should get permission from your father. But you know her, she was able to convince me to do it.

All children: (laughing and commenting about the lady who spent money like she would die today. Mother said that woman got much money from ex husbands so she deserved to do it.) So, curled or waved?

Mother: Medium curled

Older children: (laughing and commenting how she looked fresh but weird as we had never had anyone with curly hair in the family before)

Mother: When I reached home, your father seeing me with curly hair looked surprised. I thought it would be a terrific moment but then it changed to one terrible day. He was so angry, never before he became that angry.

Older children: Ya, I was shocked. Never saw him like that before—

Mother: I was not shocked with his reaction but the next action of his was a biggest discomfort in my life. He said he wanted to make the hair look better which I thought minor trimming and he took a pair of scissors.

Older children: I didn’t expect that to happen. He cut most of the curly hair and only left the one with very vague curls near the headskin. You were almost bald! (laughing) You became so not you.

Me: (upset) Why did’t you run to hide and protect your hair?

Older children: Hey! Don’t be too serious. He didn’t hurt her.

Me: But he hurt her pride! I won’t let my hair be screwed up by anyone.

Older children: I remember mother sobbed and I screamed to father to stop. He didn’t do it harshly, but I felt worried about her sobbing.

Me: Damn wrong thing! I never knew he would have this in the checklist.

Mother: No worry. He regretted and apologized on the same day. And trust me it was the only one bad thing he did to me. He said he didn’t want me to draw attention of other men.

Older children: Jeeeaaaalousy! We know some other things about his jealousy! You should tell more stories.

Mother: I think it was the best lesson for him about how he should not be too possessive.

All children: Yaaa!!! Agree!

Older children: Do you remember that you turned to be a better fashionista than her. I remember you wore turban and sometimes wigs.

Mother: Yes. And I guess he regretted it even more as I asked for different wigs and turbans until my hair was good enough to show.

What a comedy! Oops! What a tragedy turning to comedy after some time!

Lesson learnt: choose the best expression of love to avoid bad impression, don’t have your hair curled 😁, find a husband who doesn’t hate curly hair 😁, forgive your husband’s wrong expression while educating him, and see a comedy in a tragedy

Romance

Learning, love, Poetic

Romantic dim light
Sums up through numbers and codes,
Closes down a hope.

—

I wish you happiness. 💝

Good Chat

Learning, life, love, Poetic

Good chirp of two birds
Fill the air with random songs
Above golden trees.

—

Time flies when we spend it with those we love. How would I not thank this life for giving me abundance of them? Good to have a holiday at home before spending more holidays outdoor faraway from them after this. 💝

I am blessed. 💝

installation art of two golden birds – good time is a chat of two sisters remembering the sweet and the shit 😊

Be A Dog

Bob, Learning, Poetic

Excitement rises.
A dog runs after food bag
Full of dental sticks.

—

If you don’t feel good, walk a dog and run with it when it runs for food. You’ll feel a real excitement. Trust me.

Wishing to feel good every single second like a happy dog. 😁 Prepare good saving of energy!

😁 Vietnam dog is exactly the same as other dogs: toys, food and other dogs

A Cycle

About a nation
That’s almost collapsed and dead.
Life has a cycle.

—

Holiday is always a time to have a small discussion about trivial facts that grows to a more serious discussion about bigger things like a damaged bridge topic growing to a discussion about a nation that starts to collapse slowly and surely.

Nothing is forever. Even if you think you are better, smarter, swifter and richer; it will end either with your fall or your death whichever comes first. How cruel! No, that’s just a cycle.

a damaged bridge (a hot yet stupid discussion on the train from Jakarta to Yogyakarta) – I love stupidity 😁

Ripple of Sweetness

Small ripple can move a lake. Enough to show gentle beauty. My heart sweetly hums with the wind.

—

your vague signs move my heart, not strong enough though to move my head 💝

Sweet Smile

Sweet smile always blooms
To season and deck each day.
Keep it, don’t waste it.

—

not the best airline on earth but always one of my favourite airlines 💝 its flight attendants’ genuine smiles remind me that there is always warm heart at home 😊

My World