Tag: poet

Align, Beloved.
Don’t let conditions rule you.
That feel good is good!

—

Feeling good is good. Feel good from morning wake-up until night dose-off.

Thank you!

allergy won’t stop me from messily crushing the yummy mango salad – not the bottom-dweller though #eeekkk 🥺

It’s been either raining or working for the past two weeks and I haven’t gone biking or walking again. How I miss seeing the children play as if only game is there in life, adults jog or walk racing with the wind to get rid of fat, elderly chat as if only words can extend their life, lovers show affection as if the world belongs to them and others rent, the birds fly home chirping high tone thanking for today’s, mosquitoes start buzzing to hunt sugar, once in a while fish hop up to breath the raw air, dragonflies perch on the green grass without moving!

Maybe next week! Yes!

a song that brings garden air to the living room

Listen

Learning, love, Poetic

Listen, Beloved,
Humming angels keep singing
Song of union.
Ears can’t hear, too low a voice.
Heart can, swayed by the wind though.

Root deep, Beloved.
The song vibrates in the earth,
Making grass and flowers bloom,
Brightening up the meadow—
Listen, Beloved.

—

It takes enormous patience to listen to the silence. Hey! Is it being patient or simply allowing quietness to sit where birds and monkeys are hopping and making noise?

Listening is a skill. A skill needs practices to mastery. Mastery takes time. Time takes breathing, in, out, with awareness.

—practicing listening mode on—

holla…. love ya! (RC Gorman’s work of art)

The Wings

The wings, Beloved,
Grown from fluid that fasts and sleeps;
Perching butterfly—

—

I call it journey, you call it metamorphosis. I call it idea, you call it egg. I call it maturity, you call it a born chrysalis. I call it manifestation, you call it developed butterfly. I call it love, you call it commitment. I call it this, you call it that. We look one thing from different points of view and describe it with different disciplines. In fact we are talking about the same thing.

Then….

You see a butterfly perching on my shoulder, I see a messenger bringing me a love letter from my beloved telling me:

“Hello, my love. Relax. You are safe. I’m here with you.”

A Name

A name, Beloved,
Sound of rustling, not the leaves;
My mind sees leaves though.

—

After more than two years, we finally gathered here for a dinner that was misunderstood. Most of us thought it was Thai food seeing the name of the restaurant “Thai Village” but then we found it was Chinese food restaurant that has been here for more than 20 years.

It didn’t matter at all! Just no pork for me. And the talks and laugher did matter much more to all of us.

Oh, name…. You’re not my beloved but you can bring my beloved here. 💝

Thanks for the rendezvous!

Only Hideaki and Sab knew it was Chinese food restaurant because they are Singaporean born and raised in Singapore. The rest got fooled by its name 😄

Woman

Woman, Beloved,
Toughness in art of beauty—
Eyes only see skin.

—

The word “soul” is “nafs” in Arabic, its gender is feminine. It gives me a strong hint that being born as a woman is never a coincidence to me. The feminine quality that is naturally attached to woman is the one grammatically (at least in one oldest language with meticulously accurate vocabulary to attribute meanings), culturally, spiritually attached to the soul too and it should be a good sign that it should not be difficult to sensitively connect to the spirituality rather than to physical (badaniyyun in Arabic) whose original gender is masculine.

Woman, qualifying herself with femininity means strengthening her natural gift and getting closer to the Soul through spirituality.

Weekend is almost over. Next week is physically and intellectually tough. Hope this shallow spirituality can strengthen me in some way.

Welcome, new week! I need to gift you a bucket of alfatihah to calm down. 💝

Women from The Looking Glass, Freydoon Rassouli

Witness

Witness, Beloved,
Umbrella in rainy days,
Locked door in dark nights—

—

Still celebrating my hair!

Not every woman likes growing long hair. I do love it. I did short hair in some period of time: senior high school when short hair gave privilege to be called “not too girl” and some recent years when busy days took away the hair time.

Now the long hair period has claimed its prime time back and ready to witness the joy shared by its owner.

May all beings be happy.

with two of those I’m grateful to for their company, witness of my determination and dedication – shortest hair ever

hair started showing off, witness of new habit: selfie at the home office corner before and after work 🤩

longer and longer giving me comfort, witness of pillow face and no-bath work from home 😎

50cm+! grow and grow, my dear hair witness of awakening 😘

now I can do many things with the hair, witness of new adventure 😘

Hymn to The Hair

A lady is walking to the lake.
An empty clay jar sits on her waist.
Her hair is hanging loose,
Listening to love songs, waving to the sky.

Sitting, she looks down
Saying hi to her reflection on and on.
My hair, thanks for growing long
And for listening to my love songs.

A lady is walking back to home.
A clay jar full of water sits on her waist.
Her hair is waving by the wind:
Spreading patchouli fragrance, calming down the lane.

Walking, she looks forward
Humming her best love songs.
My hair, thanks for spreading good scent
And making my life so fragrant.
My hair, thanks for being silken
And keeping this flame ardent.
My hair, grow grow long.
My hair, listen to these love songs.
My hair, stay here
Until home is welcoming me.

—

Each and every one deserves love and appreciation. Today I took longer time to scrutinise and caress my hair; this stubborn tough protein deserves love and appreciation, too.

A hymn for my hair is not too much, an extra love after shampoo to clean, conditioner to soften and sometimes hair dye to match the mood.

my definition of beautiful day: long hair after treatment at the weekend 🥰 (RC Gorman’s artwork, from Pinterest)

Lost & Found (ranting)

I’m lost, Beloved.
This market keeps me busy.
What time is it now?

—

One friend said to me that I might be lost. What she meant by lost is I’m not as good as she is at interpreting ultimate truth and looking less than I was before.

If that’s the definition of lost then I’ve been lost since decades. I’ve never been truly right — or found? 😁

There are patches of time in life when my honesty is tested within. Am I loyal to myself? Am I caring about my own wellbeing? Am I aware of to where I’m heading? Am I aware of what I’m doing? Am I aware of the configuration of individuals around me? And am I aware of what’s beyond all these (divine entity, higher power, gods, God, universe, life, whatever you call it)?

Each of those questions should be answered at least “more than half yes” —let’s put 80%— because “full yes” is impossible except for those with high intelligence (not about IQ, intelligence is the naturally-attached awareness of being a well-developed human being). And when my yes is below 80% that is when confusion will lead to another confusion to another confusion until there is one question answered at least more than half.

If loyalty to my self is only 40%, I will have to shop for 40-60% outside in order to achieve 80-100%. I will crave for validation from others offline and online. Lack of self trust and honest self reflection is my personal indicator. Virtually number of likes, followers, subscribers, comments in popularity-based social media have become both blessings and curse with which external validation is quantified and a group of people are willing to do anything literally anything to be popular. FYI, there will be an alternative social media highlighting both merit and popularity, symbolic.id hopefully can balance popularity with utilitarianism.

If I care less about my well-being, others will have to take care of me. If no one takes care of me, I can feel sick, messy, frustrated, helpless, lonely. There was a period of 10 years of abundance that I didn’t take care of myself and that was enough!

If I am not aware of to where I’m heading, I will just follow wherever my peer head to. Good peer improves integrity. What about if I’m not aware of what kind of peer I’m associated to. With bad companions, I might excessively drink, abusively drug, irresponsibly sex around can be up to extreme of commit crimes.

If I’m not aware of what I’m doing, I might hurt myself or even at the same time hurt others. Hurting is undoubtedly. Hurting doesn’t always come through bad intension, it can come through priority. So when I’m aware of a priority and I unintentionally hurt others, it is almost forgivable. It is truly forgivable when I’m doing it right or possibly with a style.

If I’m aware of the configuration of individuals around me, it will be more convenient to map out how I do what I want to do to, for and with whom. Priority, target and impact become triangulation to be balanced of. Human interaction is important, yet I don’t want to give up my dignity just to get along with random people only for fame or temporary pleasure. I’m not that young anymore, I don’t mind being fun but responsibly and crazy but gracefully. 💃🏽

And if I’m aware of what’s beyond all these, I would not fall too low because of despair or fly too high because of pride. There is always a perceived limit as consequence of awareness about this ultimate power; playing water gets wet, playing fire get burnt, my freedom is limited by other individuals’ boundary that I have to respect. This is where many people think I’m totally lost when I’m lost; they think I lose control and/or give up humbleness. Nope! In fact I’m always aware that there is a limit that I can’t even accurately prescribe and perceive in life. I can only plan, not decide the outcome. In this section I have 100% yes, just sometimes feel jealous why this power never gives me full control.

So am I lost? Let people think the way they do. I just have to be alert when ALL or MOST of those questions have lower yes answer because that’s when I’m not sufficiently developed as a human being, I’m not enough self-well-defined.

When “lost” or more suitably “wandering”, I’ll spend some time to sit down in the middle of crowded mind doing nothing saying nothing just observing what all those birds and monkeys are doing; while breathing counting the time….

I love being me with dreams and wishes that might not all come true because of limit that can suddenly emerge. Yeah! You higher power that always meddles in my affairs. ☺️ Please always side with me. 💝

Ahhhh what is this? A long ranting after getting teased of “lost to be found”.

Gotta Get Thru This

Learning, love, Poetic, This Person

Some beats, Beloved!
Let’s dance under this night rain!
Gotta get thru this!

💃🏽

Daniel rocks! My favourite playlist when I was cute and innocent 💝 now again!

A Dream

Learning, Poetic, Those People

A dream, Beloved,
A bloom of sleep or a sign?
Each has drawn a smile.

—

Sometimes a dream brings me to an immediate mood of contacting a friend. Last night I dreamt of someone who has set a strong boundary against me. I dreamt of this person surrounded guarded almost like being swarmed by many tough guys and beautiful ladies; becoming the top of all! Waking up this morning, I decided to text this person who has blocked me in WhatsApp (of course I made mistake as the reason) and summarised my dream— what I didn’t tell was that those guys and ladies in my dream rigorously chased me away. And as expected of course no reply; maybe another anger and frustration against this ridiculous me 🙃

Then I prayed that this friend is enjoying the best time of life; which must be happening now.

I’m still smiling remembering the dream. How could it be such dream? Scary yet entertaining! I must have been traveling to a multiverse! Maybe it was a sign about a raising boundary; or simply because I was too tired!

Thanks for the dream.

Sky Is The Limit?

The sky, Beloved,
Layers of defined arches
Limiting a range—

—-

Have you ever thought about limit?

What is limit? Who/what has limit? Who/what has no limit? Which is the limit? How to set a limit? Questions that have haunted me for almost all my life! I tried to formulate the answers for almost 20 years and yesterday —just yesterday— a convincing answer reached me like a tap on my shoulders. One of the answer is that with this limitation I can do something that the one with no limit can’t. 💝

This hopefully be a breakthrough in my life.

Thank you!

I’ll rant about the mind blowing answers from a young scholar. Not today; someday when I find the most suitable dictions.

Welcome, new week!

they said this type of cloud is a sign to fishermen that there are a lot of fish around this limited sea area under this type of cloud 👍🏽

Listen

Listen, Beloved,
Dandelion seeds detach.
Wishes in the dark—

—

Listen

Listen, Beloved,
To leaf landing on water.
The sun is blinking

—-

Listen

Learning, This Person, Those People

Listen, Beloved,
To breeze and leaves that rustle.
The moon is watching.

—

Where’s Mr Sun?

Mr Sun’s hiding
Behind curtains of colours.
This brain cheats the eyes.

—

Ah! What is before these eyes isn’t always what is. It doesn’t matter; although it is not what is, it is still what is when it is clear what is not.

Bumpy road of saying no before finally saying yes is a long battle, a long journey to win the best throne of this heart. Know it and accept it.

Salaam. 💝

is it the ability to capture the horizon or the limitation of man-made lens that makes the shot scenery not as stunning as when viewed with these eyes? Or these very eyes get cheated?

I Slowly Spell Your Name

Learning, love, Poetic

Though not a true ID,
Your name ships all senses to
An existence.

A name that I spell slowly,
A name representing silence and unattendance,
Almost ignorance.

Is
Your name
A password
To where a gap between real and unreal resides?

Is
Your name
A padlock
With which a visitor busily matches the key?

Is
Your name
Sugar leaf
With which a cup of tea gets sweetened with its dissolving?

Is
Your name
Coffee powder
Which settles at the bottom of a cup after its releasing caffein and acidity?

Is
Your name
A myth
That resembles history?

Tell me
The story of
Your name.

Your name
That
I slowly spell
Every time 
A face flickers
Around this nerve system.

—

Indeed a name isn’t a true ID. The ID is more than just the given name.

Namamu Kueja Pelan-Pelan by Pusakata

Long Battle

Learning, life, love, Poetic, This Person

This love, Beloved,
A battle to win the heart
Zooming in and out—

—

How distant are we? Never away, just the lines and dots that project substantial distance. Once perspective is well understood, near far is never an issue as all are cluster of objects in the same dimension.

Yet how well is perspective projection can be accepted by this foolish brain?

Not easy to do it well. It is to play the focal length. It is a long battle to win the heart; is it my heart? Or your heart? Or both? It depends on what the computation is based. Can only wish it is based on mathematics that contains literature for accuracy without beauty kills hope. And living without hope is walking zombie.

💝

red torii: balance that stands out, mercury painted to battle the climates, poetic geometry

One by One

Wishing, Beloved,
Upon a star where dreams sit
Waiting to be picked
One by one to the bucket
Before the steps reach the home—

—

Many dreams look so much near. Places to go on earth displayed in Pinterest lengthen the list and be a good escape for mind every weekend before dosing off. Can only wish that the lengthened list lengthens the life, pushing the EOL later and later— 🤗

Some dreams can’t even be described…. You are as near as far away…. 🙃

Happy weekend. Oops long weekend.

next year, next year…. please 🥰 want to stand under those trees and greet the women who carry loads on their heads! beautiful! 💝

Sketches

Learning, life, Poetic, Those People

Sketches, Beloved
Turning imagination
To the sensible
That won’t last longer than life;
Let go from the very start—

—

Sometimes I asked myself “what will happen to all these sketches when I die?” 🫥 Not easy to answer until I realised what I have done to most of my mistakes: let go.

🤡

orchid – in progress; let go from the very start

Mirror

Mirror, Beloved.
Look back while looking forward!
Sigh. Blank. Mute. Smile. Shine.

—

Acceptance has gathered laughter, smile, speechlessness, emptiness, anger into a frame with a figure looking into a mirror at the same time seeing what is situated behind.

Beloved, the past is the past but it is what has molded a present person. It should be forgiven, it should not be forgotten.

Thank you, yesterday! Hello, today! Welcome, future!

lovely reservoir — under the clean night sky, with the bestest friend of mine, my own self 💝

Beads of Pray

Counting beads of pray,
An echoed name flows away
Through silence of heart.

—

Have you ever prayed so silently? No one can hear. Only beads of pray click. A remembrance of love that is unseen. Beyond the ocean and beyond existence—

Literature is a limited tool to disclose ideas and emotions; not accurate enough to shoot one heart. Math is sharp to operate a complex equation; not sweet enough though to state naked truth.

With what then should I count this reality between two lovers? Beauty or precision?

Only beads of pray is whispered silently. Who knows the river will sail this soft voice along its flow introducing it to the estuary that escorts it to the ocean where winds push the current following the North Star to meet with you.

Salaam.

Sincerely,

from a tiny heart wrapped in a peaceful morning

Bright Red

Scarlet, Beloved,
Traveling in a canal
Brings blossom to life.

—

Flamboyan tree is magnificently stunning, all part of it— trunk, branches, twigs, leaves, scarlet flowers and seed pods, no exception.

Seeing pictures of flamboyan trees with blossoming scarlet flowers feels like my blood gets healthier and flows more smoothly. Or maybe it’s just a coincidence that I’m being healthy now and seeing the pictures. So, it is the blood not the scarlet flowers causing me feel alive! ☺️

Alhamdulillah. Monday is well done. A satisfying healthy day!

Note: Blood colour isn’t always bright red. It won’t be blue though.

Salaam.

Flowers Bouquet

Bouquet, Beloved,
A bunch of symbols arranged
Through fragrance and hues.

—

Amaryllis: strength and determination

Daffodil: honesty, truth and forgiveness

Eucalyptus: division of the underworld, earth and heaven (Aboriginal wisdom); inner and outer strength, leadership

Gladiolus: faithfulness and integrity

Lily of the valley: sincerity and joy

Sunflower: loyalty and unconditional love

Tendril: growth, softness, flexibility (Javanese wisdom)

Flowers Bouquet in water colour; 60%, waiting for the liquid frisket to block some colours before completion

Mother of Pearl

Deep dive, Beloved,
To where soft bodies guard light
Wisdom of the dark

—

Nowhere is better than within, where price tag is no longer a concern, where silence and acceptance is currency, where no one looks evil or harmless, where only gratitude and peace reside, where no colour distracts, where pain and joy are blended to ecstatic reality….

….where I finally get sleepy 😁

Salaam.

the no-longer-cost-fortune-yet-still-cost-a-wisdom gemstone called pearl is produced through 100’s of layers of mineral secreted by mollusk to cover around irritants that enter its shells – if a soft body of mollusk can do it, how can’t we human beings?

Reading