graphs of my Universe
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
☘️💕
I'm not a prophet,
Not a saint. I'm a human
Accepting a lane.
if i am allowed to choose, i’d like to be in the lane of flower where colours, shapes and scents are with me
but this ability to smell nice fragrance in life is accompanied by the ability to smell bad odors
and so accepting the lane with its duality and paradox is the only way
There are scars, dear heart.
They stay. Painless, ugly and
Bringing back a day--
some mirrors will remind me of the day these scars were then wounds caused by incidents committed through actions either well planned or lousily coincided
forgiving but not forgetting is not as easy as how i say
have i forgiven? or should i be forgetful?
She's an empty jar
Longing for your rain to pour.
Fragrance of dried clay--
what do we want to pour into ou empty jar? blessings or cursing? love or ignorance? up to us–
Why love poem, my love?
It's you writing in my heart
That longs for her rose.
My liking to poem started at early age with the pantun jenaka (Indonesian four-lined poem, mostly witty and light) in Bahasa Indonesia lesson book and the Javanese poem contained in mocopat (Javanese traditional songs) and geguritan (Javanese free verse) in Jayabaya magazine subscribed by our parents. I also loved reading books and comics but poetry has given me more room to explore meanings and imagination.
I’ve written diary since I learnt how to compose paragraph. I wrote poems to express emotion that I could not describe through prose because of the emotion complexity and also I wanted to make beautiful expression.
And as I studied Literature in uni, poetry became integrated part of my days. I wrote a lot of poems but most were gone with the paper pulping and the floppy disks rotten.
I used to write poem about nature as I loved Robert Frost, William Wordsworth, John Keats’ works.
Over the time especially when I started reading Rumi and Ibn Arabi, I started to use more word love, beloved, lover and all things related to them. And I also love to use the word river, sea, meadow and some nature related words. It is simply because those words can represent the vibe, nuance, atmosphere and foundation of idea in me.
When I talk about love, is it always about love? Yes, it is always about love because the only topic relevant to life is love.
When I talk about love, is it always about romance? Sometimes? But most of my love poem is about the love within me, the love to life, the love to a reality that I cannot describe but I can only sense both subtly physically and non-physically.
my fondness to love is equivalent with my fondness to the breeze caressing my hair
Some of my friends will tell me “kamu gombal” in English it can mean “you are bullshitting” or “you are flirting”. I don’t mind people say that. I don’t have to explain to those not knowing my inner journey; to those who are in the same journey I don’t need to explain as they know what happens to and within me.
I will not change my love story in this life.
Am I afraid that a man that I love will think I am madly in love with someone else? No! He will know that my love poem is only for him. If he doesn’t know, it means he doesn’t vibe enough love with and for me.
What about if people think I am gaslighting? I also don’t mind although I might get hurt inside. I really don’t mind.
I love love poems and I dedicate the love poems to my Beloved, me, beloved, family and friends and the whole world. Someday if Life allows me to be remembered even after I die, I want to be remembered as a human being who knows love and compassion. If Life wants me to be forgotten after I die, I know I am forgotten in the name of love.
💕
(no edit is applied to this writing, please excuse my typos; i wrote this to wait during flight delay in Svarnabhum International Airport, Bangkok)
This journey is a quiet seating with
You.
Whether you get stuck or flow or flood, I won't leave
You but
I leave it to
You
Wholeheartedly.
this is me surrendering to
You
take me in your love gently like a breeze in a warm day
Dear, River.
Flow
Freely
If you don't want me.
We'll see
Each other
In the sea.
sometimes i am not part of a flow and i am ok…. i will flow with myself beautifully to
You in the sea
Good morning, dear self.
Fly my love across the sea
Where heaven's sitting.
RC Gorman’s work of art – i feel strongly Gorman knew exactly how it feels to be a not-married woman: dressing herself nicely, wearing herself comfortably, greeting environment sweetly, loving her own self dearly like loving her beloved
It's confusing.
Tell me how
I should love
You.
Is it to shine
As a sun does?
Is it to glow
As a star does?
Is it to reflect
As a moon does?
Is it to pass by
As a comet does?
I'm none of those.
I am now loving
You as the space does,
It is to contain
Your existence,
Embracing what's all
In and about
You.
Tell me how
I should love
You.
RC Gorman’s work of art
I wish I know
You better
So there won't be useless tears falling to long for
You.
I wish to meet
You now
So there won't be useless words
Uttered in secret for
You.
I wish to be with
You, too
So there won't be useless thought dancing restlessly for
You.
But I won't force to be with
You soon
As the timing is predestined by and arranged for
You.
counting my falling hair before finally meeting you
💕
Wrap me, Beloved
With a blanket that calms down
And colours my heart.
today was a painful day, my emotion was so drained and i need a long battery charge before starting a new week — a thick blanket would be good
some days pull me too deep then suddenly kick me high abruptly or the other way round; i am now back to my grip ‘coz life is just like that
alhamdulillah
💕
Life's, Beloved
Adorned with perfect senses
To find your beauty.
Whatever you say, Beloved,
It's my day.
I've built it through seconds, minutes, hours.
Just because others use extended brain,
Doesn't mean I will.
I live my true life
Even without a perfect "1100100" score given.
Whatever you say, Beloved,
It's my day.
no artificial intelligence is involved in my writing process except if my brain is considered one
using AI in my thinking and writing process is haram 🤓
haram is not related to any religion standpoint, it simply means i will never use it until professionally mandated in my work which i believe will not happen — will never use it for my poem and ranting of mine
😺
She's simply composed,
Not even shaken by storm.
Rooted to the earth--
My intuition works wonder when it comes to family esp mother, as if knowing when something wrong happens even no one informs me.
Yesterday I contacted my sister saying that mother might not be good. She said mother was ok and sleeping.
My gut said different. I contacted my cousin saying the same thing and she said “Yes, she fell and injured a bit on her chin and left hands.”
I happened to know later that my mother didn’t allow my sister to tell me about the incident.
I tried to digest the “lie” although the feeling inside was a mix of anger, disappointment, sadness, left behind at the same time relief that she was now ok.
This morning after a long meeting I called my mother. I really wanted to give her some “lecture” that she should be careful, should not do this or that and should let me know whatsoever happens to her. But I detered myself from doing so.
I know what I would say is something true but don’t want to hurt her motherly affectionate decision. I chose to accept her reason of not informing me: so my child can work with light heart.
My mother is one of the mentally strongest women I’ve known in life. None of people knowing her will say otherwise.
Once I joked around with her “Ibu, please pray that I don’t have to be as strong as you in life as when I’m as strong as you, it means I will have one most challenging of human life.”
She said “You can be stronger than me but don’t need to experience what I have in life. Trust your life.”
Yes, I do trust life will protect me from the harms.
I love you, Ibu. Thank you.
💕
Why worry?
I am here
Always.
who withers first? the flower? the lady? none, night will wither first then sun rises; the flower and the lady stay now here
I can't talk about
You all the time,
People will think I am crazy
Or crazy about
You.
But how can I
Stop thinking about
You, while obviously
You are everywhere
I am?
blaming why a plate seems empty but actually full of unseen material
aka
what is wanted is obvious, but there is no way — don’t blame the guest standing in front of the door, blame the host not responding to the greeting
Radiance, dear heart,
Her eyes light up and she smiles;
A delighted day--
there shouldn’t be big reasons to be radiant; it is as simple as waking up in the morning knowing that it doesn’t rain…
….and completing the day earlier
Dear Master,
Fill this lake
With wisdom
To keep on
Flowing through rivers,
Permeating through earth veins
Towards
You
RC Gorman’s work of art
What she's pondering's
A jar of water, sugar
And how lemonade's made.
life’s good as lemon for health and lemonade for drink
Dear Sunflowers,
Teach me how to be so strong
To face the sun.
She said
"I'm just following
My nature. I'm dead
Without the sun."
RC Gorman’s work of art
Dear
You,
Bless me
With true heart.
I surrender to
You.
No game with this heart,
I just want to walk slowly
Bringing this tiny love
So light.
revelation of light
And you're, Beloved
Forgiven in every breath.
This soul is well fed.
well fed soul sees paradox as blessings rather than curses
Forgive, Beloved
This self questioning one's self
About where to go.
i’m headin’ 2 U
Please keep me in
Your heart
Yours only, where
I stay with those
You love the most, where
You keep all what's private.
In a crowd of stars
I can only see
You, who will never
Remove my favourite sparks:
The bright true blue--
Please keep me in
Your heart
Yours only, where
Soul looks out to the world.
In there wherever you are,
Just peace now here--
In a darkest night
I can only see
You, who will never
Let me travel alone as
I'm your satellite.
RC Gorman’s work of art
It is harvest time
After years of nurturing.
Fruits are gathered now.
today’s gathering with uni circle was a sweet bunch of chat
thank you and….
….see you again, sweet pears!
flying home soon 💕
Sometimes her tongue is too sharp
But don't blame her tongue,
It's her eyes too sharp
But don't blame her eyes,
It's her brain too critical
But don't blame her brain,
It's her rationale too weak
But don't blame her rationale,
It's her research insufficient
But don't blame her research,
It's her data too narrow
But don't blame her data,
It's her survey not detailed
But don't blame her survey,
It's her objective not well conveyed
But....
She writes love poems.
Yet they get angry, not knowing that
She just expresses naked truth.
She hopes that she is not exposed
As her poems are limited edition.
RC Gorman’s work of art
Lend me ears, my love
To listen to the silence
That whispers your songs.
RC Gorman’s
earrings are to me not only accessories, they are an agreement that i am ready to hear some news 💕 earrings i wear amplify important messages to me
There's so much here
Wanting to burst
Colours and fragrances
That have been hiding
In a deep cave
For ages.
It is gemstones,
The petrified blood, tears and sweats
Traveling with time and space:
Flowing river
To the turquoise sea
Uniting with
You.
RC Gorman’s work of art
i kno it’s U
How heavy is jar?
As heavy as what is forced,
Light as what is poured--
RC Gorman’s work of art
today i learnt that one typical problem can be heavy or light for the same person in different situations; or for different people at the same situation — it is always about how we carry the life
dear self, do you force it or do you let it flow?
There is birth and death
And love in between those two.
Continuous life—
RC Gorman’s work of art
rike jokanan 
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