graphs of my Universe
I’ll live not only 1000 lives,
I’ve lived forever.
I love not only my whole life,
I love everlastingly.
How can I not love the life
Giving me chance to meet you
Again
And
Again
And
Again?
I won’t though beg for another again
If again will end the love
To the now and here.
See you again
In now and here,
Better one
I know not where.
——
the way you treat me will not change my feeling to you; yet will not shorten my distance from you either — love is only for love, never for hatred 💝
Once upon a time
A seed turned to a fruit
In between two times.
It celebrated its confusion
Of losing itself in every phase.
Why am I soft, while
I was hard?
Why am I hanging, while
I was buried?
Why can’t I remember where
I came from?
How can I know which
Is the truest of me?
The fruit ripened in blue
Fell out weathered.
Rotten
Dried
Cracked
Seeds scattered
Sprouted
Grew taller.
Would the seed forget who she was again?
Once upon a time
A tree remembered who
Greeted the boughs
Harvested the best
Celebrated the flesh
Threw away the seeds who then
Grew.
It was not an expression of “once again”
Not the same seed
Yet the seed
Of the same tree.
Still the same—
No mourning
Nothing is lost, yet
Nothing is forever.
Knowing is time travel or
A review of history or
A humble diary.
Just wait for one moment to see.
Life is just like that.
——-
from Pinterest
How strong?
As strong as money
Which can buy travel vouchers for holiday
And it helps draw long list of visited sites;
A list that shows to the world
That experience comes with style.
Unfortunately some might be just albums of photos with forgotten moment and lost meaning.
Still travelers travel farther than homebody
Who stays in front of TV learning about all countries,
Yet more thoroughly and vibrantly
Even able to write vibrantly. Look at Karl May!
You mean to understand different places
Doesn’t need real traveling?
Might be?
So what’s the strength of money?
Aah! Not that strong in fact.
Wait!
It is still strong.
Not the strongest though!
So,
Is money a lethal weapon?
I know not, said I,
I know not.
Anymore.
How weak?
As weak as fibrous roots
Which can’t give trees strong anchorage
And they give little supplies of food to the deep interior.
Yet fibrous roots don’t destroy building foundation.
Fibrous roots are good for sloping area,
They help prevent soil erosion.
They are not weak.
At least not that weak!
So,
Are fibrous roots the weakest anchor?
I know not, said I,
I know not.
Anymore.
Aah! Cry, cry
For losing the stance.
Let the tears dry.
Let each layer dry,
When it dries, it is becoming skin
Until all are.
It is just like that
Like peeling onion.
——
from Pinteres
Without him I die
and with him’s no better
With or without him
longing’s the same
I found him, finding
what I hadn’t foreseen,
the cure and disease
as equal fevers
His silhouette flares
as we draw near
each other and
burns more proud
The deeper the harmony
the sharper the pain
Measure for measure
as decreed
——
The above is poem excerpted from below book — one that well explains how love consumes good soul. By simply loving life has shown what joy and pain can be perceived as either happiness or unhappiness depending on how deep or how true love is given meaning or taken for granted.
It has taken me quite long journey to finally connect the dots among the manifestation of love, pain, joy, harmony. It takes whole life to refine love and it takes big love to refine life — a vicious circle that keeps the fire burns, light flares and smoke billows bringing hope up to the sky.
“Life is light. Life is true.”
May all beings be happy.
♥️
Tarjuman Al-ashwaq (The Translator of Desires)
After a long pause,
Waves of time now delivers
Pretty joy in store.
How should she welcome
A guest that greets with surprise?
A sweet smile in store—
——
buds of secundum are welcoming with joy
How much am I true
To this self?
As true as
The pretty
And the ugly
In me
In front of mirrors
Reflecting
What they love to see.
Life is light.
Light is true.
To this self do I say:
Walk truly as true as white clouds hanging over green trees.
Walk lightly as light as foot steps on green grass.
——
i stole my photo from an Instagram story of someone who secretly took my photo before the Tapa Brata started — i am not a truly physically good photo model but i am a human being making effort to be true ♥️ i hope to see this photo owner again some day only heaven knows when and say thank you for showing my strong arms to the world 😂
As fast as the light
She travels hugging her heart
To where love resides.
——
Prambanan Temple
Buried memories
Sow the seed of forgiveness.
Time bends a straight branch.
——
Welcome,
Travelers
To my humble abode.
May you sit,
There is chair to enjoy.
May you stand,
There is painting to enjoy.
This lobby,
A place for every guest
To enjoy the best spread
Of food and beverage.
My kitchen
Is not,
Unfortunately.
Welcome, fellow travelers.
Leave when your storm ends.
——
My best friends once reminded me of how I should be afraid of being misunderstood and my response to them was “I am ok to be misunderstood by those who don’t have enough knowledge and/or love to understand who I am and what I am doing.”
They still say the same thing in different ways. I answer the same way.
Thank you.
💝
How are you, dear white?
Everything looks bright on white.
It’s clear on itself.
——
a white mug with ginger & honey tea 💝 get drunk with it and make all work excellent! ☺️
sterilised or warmed? whatever! loving warm white mug in my hand 💕
this champion is quiet when working and resting unlike me talking at work snoring at sleep 🥶
parrrtyyy! no, no, not my party; it belongs to one favourite cleaning lady
Like pigeon
But not flying,
It spreads fragrance
Along the road I am on everyday.
This sense is trained
To breathe scent.
I am walking
Like pigeon.
——
all these years i thought only this tree is where my favourite pigeon orchid “lives”
i thought only this cluster!
even this morning i thought only this one! i kissed these
walking to the bus stop, i saw a lot more! on that tree across the street
in the tree ahead of me!
in another tree!
and another tree!
then i started seeing the pigeon orchids in almost all of trees along my favourite road! i am so blessed!
Dear, coachman.
How can you
Place
The horses
Behind the chaise?
The sky is darker,
It is going to rain,
You like it or not,
The chaise must be drawn.
——
only if the horses are at the front, the carriage will move on; it is not a VW Beetle, dear self 😁
No one can hurt me.
I am a feather,
I am water,
Either.
No one will hurt me.
I am a feather,
I am water,
Either.
We are feather on water.
No one can hurt them,
No one will,
Either.
——
no one can, no one will — if one does, one does to one’s self
I’m water
Humble enough to mold myself
To this pitcher.
This life’s a pitcher
Kind enough to tilt herself
To the river.
I’m water
Flowing by myself
In myself to the sea.
This’s the strongest soft
With what this rocky heart
Gets shaped through time.
——-
water: naturally willing to be shaped, spiced up, scented, coloured, treated by temperatures — matured through stories 😃
Is she giving up?
She’s waiting for the right time.
Just another leap—
——
💝
played Coldplay all day today as if their concert is happening in my living room 😁
gave up the queue because my medical treatment on May 19 was much more important; if i am healthy, i still can work to earn money for the next concerts somewhere else 🙏🏼 happy watching, all ticket war winners! you deserve your strategy whatever it was
You
Are the beats in my heart.
Whereabout your heart
Am I in?
You
Are the water of a vase.
Whereabout your vase
Am I of?
You
Are the -ness at my nothing.
Whereabout your thing
Am I at?
There is silence,
And it answers me through.
I am nowhere about
You.
—
when the water is gone, all is dead — only dried leaves and air 🙏🏼
A background
Is redone.
A painting
Is restarted
Again
And again
And again.
Maybe one morning
She will restart
One more
And finally get it done.
There is peeping light
Highlighting the canvas
Naturally
Glowing with a new story
Sweeter to tell.
—-
i don’t know when this work is going to complete – it is constantly a new start because of the artist’s unprofessional insecurity
the recipient is impatiently waiting, a deadline must be set — ok, ok 🙏🏼
Essentially pure?
None. No distiller’s perfect
But time. Refining—
—
Smell might be my strongest sense. It gives me both pleasant and not so pleasant experiences in life. To share the experiences is of course an ultimate goal, yet it takes time to materialise it.
To start
Have you smelled the earth wetted by rain water?
Have you smelled the grass cut in the morning, noon and afternoon?
Have you smelled your parents’ clean clothes?
Try those and you’ll be amazed with the sensation brought to you.
Salaam.
goal: to distill essential oils for myself and those around me — this is gonna be a read-it-when-i-want-it book ✨
A basket of fresh
Turns into a jar of fresh
For mind to refresh.
—
from this — pomelo, pineapple, mango, apple, rose apple and pomegranate
to this
added with this — not so spicy this time
both mixed into this — 45 minutes of washing, peeling, cleaning, grating fruit + grinding the palm sugar
this final packed fresh — one week + 2 days’ morning grated fruits
May I
Sing a sweet song
With
You
Under glowing stars shooting
To leave their age?
May I
Sit silently
With
You
Under a quiet dusk rolling
To welcome dawn?
May I
Count the sheep
With
You
Under a dreamy night shining
To light a hope?
May I?
—-
may I eat gyoza? left over from last batch — so pleasing to eat my own food, almost like heaven 😁
Journey to a home
Through climb, prance, flow, dive and fly
Deserves a quenching.
—
a glass of lemongrass tea with chia seeds is a gift for a traveler 💝
What a sweet mango!
What a sweet cake!
What a sweet memory!
What a sweet day!
What a sweet life!
—-
Conversation continues
A: What is taste of life?
B: It is just like when you taste the food.
A: But why do you use the word sweetness? Why not bitterness?
B: Because I want to focus on things sweet.
A: So I can focus on the bitterness of life?
B: As you wish. Isn’t that what you are doing now? And so life is never light for you?
A: But life is truly bitter!
B: Without anything sweet? Even a slight sweetness?
A: There are times of sweetness but the concentration is very low.
B: Who decides the concentration?
A: Of course I do!
B: So why don’t you lower down the concentration of bitterness and add up the concentration of sweetness?
A: How?
B: Observe. Find the bitter. Find the sweet. Every moment you are alone. Send love to both the bitter and the sweet in you. Tell them you thank them.
A: That’s it?
B: For now.
this tiny choco nougat cake is blessed for my late father’s belated birthday — the sweet taste is for me today 😝
She’s strong
She’s fragile
She’s tough
She’s soft
She’s wordy
She’s taciturn
She’s generous
She’s jealous
She’s protecting
She’s weakness
She’s missed
She’s avoided
She’s mature
She’s spoiled
She’s simple
She’s intricate
She’s narrow
She’s wide
She’s shallow
She’s deep
She’s wicked
She’s kind
She’s black
She’s white
She’s every angle of life
She’s my mother,
Red carnation in one beautiful afternoon.
—-
Happy Mother’s Day, Ibu
I sent a message to my mother today to wish her happy mother’s day with a picture of red carnation attached.
Ibu: Thank you! Isn’t mother’s day Dec 22?
Me: Yes, in Indonesia. May 14 internationally.
Ibu: Nice! You send me another mother’s day wish again next Dec ya.
Me: No worry, it’s just a message. Easy! (then I called her as my fingers complained long messages)
Ibu: Not that easy, baby. Send me some tea and herbs, too.
Me: It doesn’t have to wait until Dec.
Ibu: Thank so much. Did you forget May 12 is Bapak’s birthday?
Me: Of course not! I just didn’t buy a cake, very busy wis some back to back agenda. I bought mango and still eat it until today.
Ibu: Although his body is not here, he is always with us. You pray for him right?
Me: Always, everyday I pray for him, my one and only father. I will buy a cake tomorrow.
Ibu: Ok, small one is good enough.
Salaam
carnation is about mother
She has heard bird news,
Sending messages
Through Morse Code.
Dots, dashes, spaces—
She has heard numbers, words, punctuations,
Telling stories
About no hope.
Acceptance, letting go, moving on—
She has heard songs, poems, winds,
Springing in heart
Warmly and gently.
Future is brighter only with clarity.
She has heard a woodpecker
Reminding her of signals and signs
In every dance of nature
To be enjoyed and understood.
She has heard of you
Giving blocks and traps
To redirect her to her own path
To happiness.
She has heard of heaven
Approving whatever she’d do
As long as she’s happy and safe
Without disturbing life.
She has heard
Dews imbuing morning to refresh,
Twilight whispering night to rest.
Life is truly a woodpecker’s Morse Code.
She has heard
And she closes her eyes,
But not ears
As long as she’s happy and safe.
Thank you, Michael Lai for again allowing me to use your poetic pictures to illustrate a poem of mine that has been poking me since forever. 🙏🏼
Bay Woodpecker Pecking a Hole in the Tree (4 Photos)
What is age, dear love?
Pearls of memories of you
Shining in my mind.
—-
May 12 is my father’s birthday. He was born in 1939 but his physical body died years ago leaving memories about him.
Happy birthday, Bapak. May you be reborn a happy one wherever you are.
💝
mango was his favourite — i’ve eaten mango for 3 days to celebrate his birthday 😀 no cake this year as I prioritised my time for something more important; sorry, Bapak 😘
What is work, my love?
Office, site visit, kitchen,
all rooms to fulfil.
——
Work is both those weekdays I am paid by my employer and weekends and holidays when I spend more from what I earn on weekdays. Both I do with all my heart and soul.
Thank you for everything.
May all beings be happy.
ironed clothes make good days of mine, that’s why i iron most of my clothes even those for sleeping 💝 i love myself 😁
late lunch after ironing 🥰 my kitchen loves me 😁
after lunch i finished making “rujak serut” for the next one week — one box per day 😇 to continue morning sliced fruit during Tapa Brata, i modify it to morning rujak serut 😁
They celebrate it
Annually.
I
Daily
Thank
For all
Even if a bit salty.
—-
i dissolve sadness with cooking 💝👍🏽
they use Botox to keep good skin, I bothok 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼
yum! a little but too salty, i added another sprinkle of salt
all in less than one hour — not icl the steaming process though
another Javanese bayleaf
😍
Javanese bayleaf
banana leaf is expensive here so even using the yellowed one doesn’t make me undignified 😀 when i was a child, i harvested it for free for play
bothok recipe: tempe, grated coconut, dried anchovy, shallot, garlic, chili, galangal, Javanese bayleaf, spring onion, salt and brown sugar
There are billions of stars
Swimming in the dark.
They are born and will die
After completing their spark.
With centers the stars travel
Flying as strong as sky larks.
They reach some terminal
Even without visible landmarks.
There’s a captain in the cockpit,
Pulled by a federation out there.
Stars won’t easily quit
Unless there’s a common end to share.
Journey of a star
—-
Captain Picard — favourite capt 👍🏽
Mr. Spock 👍🏽 — favourite crew
Surprise!
Said she
Showing the hopeless
That
Survival is about adaptability
Welcomed by nature,
Approved by resolution,
Driven by muscles,
Enjoyed by senses.
I’m gonna be yellow!
—-
can you see the spike of oncidium (must be yellow) at the left? i saw it when sitting on the toilet enjoying my good time 😀— suddenly the beauty struck me! 😍 thank you! 🙏🏼 i’ll be patient waiting for you to bloom 💛
she used to be one of balcony gang members and was about to pass as the original media (wood bark and charcoal) started decaying; her new home is now shower room in a glass flower vase; media is sponge, charcoal and water 😍
She cleans the mugs
From which we drink,
She swipe the stains
Of tea and coffee.
She moves the mugs
To humming machine,
She unloads them out,
In to drying machine.
She smiles to us
We smile to her,
She says hello
We say thank you.
She asks me why
I drink so much,
She guesses I’m thirsty
Or the aircon is cold.
She’s a guardian
Of the white mugs.
How life is hilarious!
Among those who are serious!
—-
i like talking with certain cleaning ladies assigned in the pantries near my section and the gym, and seems that they love doing it, too. there is one particular loving it the most, a (probably) 25-yo lady with a syndrome making her not talking clearly and processing messages rather slowly yet she is the friendliest. today she told me how many mugs she has to wash (helped by machines) everyday and why there are many more on Tue to Thu. she said many employees like to use more than one mug (each mug for one tea flavour) and she’s wondering why. when i said “i use one mug for one tea flavour because i don’t want to mix the taste, i am sorry”, she said “no, no, then it is ok lah” 🥹 what a blessing to talk to a humble human being — not so much thought processed and so much fun enjoyed 🥰
thanks for taking good care of our white mugs! 🙏🏼
rike jokanan 
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