graphs of my Universe
Time knocks on a door of life saying
“Would you travel with me?”
And a journey begins.
Time hugs its travel buddy knowing
That she might be off of the track.
Time talks to her hoping
That she is aware of the walk.
Time prances with her knowing
That she is on to where it heads.
—-
dark and bright in one frame ♥️ time is a mystery
Time is
Lightning striking
And that’s it.
A patch
Of burnt earth is
A trace
Of surprise.
When we meet
Someday,
Ignore the time.
Let’s count it
With heart beats
And senses
That touch.
Let me fall
In love with
You
Over and over again
As long as
Time
Can be defined.
—
is one chasing the other or the kite? it is love that makes both run and laugh, a kite that keeps the child within alive
picture from Pinterest
Life is wonderful when it has ups, downs and plateau at the right time. In fact, time is always right at least twice a day when the clock is broken. When time seems not right, it will be right by deploying the right genre— prose, poetry or drama? Your decision! 😊
Realist: Stop drama now.
Me: Oh! You mean I should not use acts and scenes?
Playwright: She means no life drama.
Me: Ok. I will try prose.
Novelist: She means don’t be too much, my dear.
Me: Alright. I will use poem.
Poet: She means the content!
Me: Ahh! So it is about genre?
All but me: (speechless)
Critic: Hold my beer! I mean my teapot!
—
One by one they fall,
Petals decompose to soil,
Fertilising life—
—
Time is a fortress
Protecting from memories
Of love that once bloomed.
—
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.
The depth of silence is
As deep
As ocean of possibilities.
Shaken, the ocean will splash
Drops of gifts.
Time once revealed
When the gifts will appear.
It once said
There is a moment in time.
Space once revealed
Where the gifts will arrive.
It once said
There is a point in space.
Spacetime once revealed
Why the gifts will engender.
It once said
There are reasons in life:
Unfortunately wrapped
In colours and shapes,
Often times disguising things:
A crow into a dove,
A wolf into a sheep,
A dumpsite into a garden,
A villainess into a heroine,
An evil witch into a kind queen,
Bent into straight—
Misleading this traveler’s direction.
Once it was said
There is
One
That she will find
Somewhere some time only if
She minds.
Dear, Light.
Only
You can reveal
True colours
True shapes
True hearts
True reasons.
Be deeply silent
Even in the crowd
Where ocean of possibilities
Is shaken
In this spacious time.
Hey!
The gift is relatively fair, Beloved.
Be ready.
—
🌊
Time zones, Beloved,
Limit spaces with blurred ends.
Illusion that jails.
—
One hour makes things different.
Dear, time…. Thanks for the space you just gave for what’s called holiday. Please bless me with nice pace and good vibe again and again like always.
If I forget about your kindness, please remind me gently as I’m fragile. If I take you for granted, please remind me that I’m traveling between your two points: start and end.
Thanks again.
Me that is blessed with both negative and positive yet trying to balance at the zero ❣️
Breathing in
Breathing out
The air is flowing
Pumping freshness to the blood
Pushing the recyclable out.
Time units are agreed.
If passed, something is overdone.
If missed, something is given up.
If right on, moment is created.
Breath is my chosen time unit
That I prudently save
Between two points
That I travel in.
How many will I take?
I don’t even know
Or how many have I taken?
I’ve lost count.
It’s as accurate as your digital timepiece,
Or as elegant as your mechanical winding.
Our time is as precious,
Yet we count with different tools.
Alas!
Don’t ask me to walk faster
Just because you run.
Don’t tell me to stay put
Just because you sit.
Life is short
Yet expensive to lament
If we don’t cross the path,
It’s simply because of
Simple word:
Decision
Because
Fate sometimes doesn’t seem to fit.
Whose decision?
I don’t know.
I’ll just breathe
Until the sun moves in reverse.
—-
Back to work very soon 😎
A rendezvous
Pouring some unmet words—
It’s a rendezvous
Exchanging stories,
Laughing at saved jokes,
Frowning on some questions to answer.
A true moment
Capped with
An “Au revoir!”
Whoohoo!
—-
🐣
Perfect, Beloved
Indication of moments,
Not about others—
——-
I thought there was perfection but then life showed me that the only thing truly modified by the word perfect is time or in some situation called moment. Other than those two creatures are never essentially perfect, they are perfect through some agreed points of view.
When it is over, it is perfectly done – time is up. When it is cut, it is perfectly completed – time is up.
And I accept a “time is up” sincerely or forcefully. A let go. A move on. A celebration. A moment to remember. A memory to save.
Oh life…. A set of perfect moments you are!
Thank you!
Singapore – Apr. 19, 2022 / 21:03
Time’s a messenger
Telling her what is waiting
In every milestone—
Her comrades, trees and water
Read the signs to reach the home.
—————————————————————————————
Some peoples are born laid-back with all the gifts from Mother Nature. Life make them realise nature is as tough as it is rich and so those peoples shape their bodies as hard as rock, their muscle wire, their bones iron, their mind clear water, their intention straight arrow. Time is the witness. Time is Messenger. Time will not betray human beings who work hard and pray.
I’m thankful to be born in a rich archipelago and re-born repeatedly among hardworking peoples.
Weekend, Weekend…. Washing, ironing, cooking— repeated milestones, be patient.
🦸🏻♀️
A strand of white pearls
Harvested in the deep sea
Bedazzles her neck.
————————————————————
There is time when I regret of what’s done and nervous about what will happen. Why did I do that? I should have done this. What if I fail again? I am not good enough.
I used to think money was everything with happiness but I prove that money is the biggest illusion in life that I misunderstood. Now I consider money should be merely a tool, never a purpose. Yet I still think of what if my company stock price decreases? 😁
I used to look for happiness and protection in a relationship. With experiences I become strongly convinced that only a healthy relationship with the self can help me cope with problems; moreover, without healthy relation with my self any relationship with others won’t work well. Yet I still don’t heal from broken heart easily and still think whether or not I will meet someone I can share some simple happiness and shelter with.
I was between life and death situations more than once for some illness before, and so helpless about future. And gradually I realise that death can come anytime even when people are healthy. Yet I still hope I die when I let go of any confusion and live in clarity.
However, there is time when I know that only in the now I can accept everything. In the now I can shed tears with mixture of gratefulness for what’s breaking my heart and blessings of what’s boosting the quality of life. In the now I can smile just by seeing piling laundry waiting for ironing. In the now I can see the canvas is the door of self healing. In the now I can imagine sending a cake full of love for my loved ones who live in many different places, whom I cannot visit with many reasons. In the now I can see shades of real and true happiness in each and every experience from wake up to sleep.
Thank you for the now and now and now that form a strand of pearls called forever.
I live forever until the last now meets with the first now.
Al Fatihah to all of my loved ones across the oceans. I bless you happiness.
Salaam….
Life pace, Beloved
Chosen wisdom, loved glory
Of everyday life—
————————————————
I wish to retire at 52 and will be a person with not too many layers of identity, being a human being living a slower-paced life, contributing to smaller society and community with my own hands with all my heart and soul, respected as I am I am not as I am who is associated to prominent organizations.
One of good friends reminded me to get prepared for that will definitely be a much different life. There won’t be luxurious facilities enjoyed, privilege given, smiles and hand shake or bow. She says it’s gonna be a true life though loved and respected by those with genuine love and respect. No transactional courtesy, all is about friendship and humanity.
When? Still long time to go but short enough because now I live in a fast-paced life.
Time to prepare.
Once retired, I won’t want to be in contact with those who have respected me because of business or money. They should be eliminated from friendship. They will deserve others who have the capacity.
May all beings be happy. 💝
Glory, Beloved,
Living doubts by loving hopes.
Time is my beacon.
————————————————————
Reading the holy book, I found time is used to testify for many different things in different verses. Night, morning, dawn, dusk, time, moments, etc are used repeatedly in a lot of diction. It shows how important and powerful time is.
By the ˹passage of˺ time! Surely humanity is in ˹grave˺ loss, except for those who have believed and done righteous deeds and advised each other to truth and advised each other to patience. (Al-‘Ashr/The Declining Time)
Time is that precious that it is scripted as proverb in some culture. Time is money in a culture that indicates people will lose money if they don’t manage the time well. Time is sword in another one that indicates only when sharpened, it will effectively work in a battle. In other cultures time is integrated in the life schedule related to seasons and celebrations.
What is time to this person? Not money, not sword. Time is a sign telling to start, to stop, to pause, to continue, to turn, to go straight or to take U-turn. Time is a when falling on to a nice where to create a moment of truth.
As long as the beacon beams its light, I’ll continue the journey.
Even if forever? Yes, even if forever as I know forever is a count down.
Dogma, Beloved,
The least she can hold in life.
She is full of quests.
————————————————————
What human beings should think of being sick is it is a tool materialised by Life to make them stop or at least slow down especially from analysing every single thing. Yet human beings often forget that blessing should not be always gift-wrapped in fancy paper with ribbons; it might be sometimes humbly bundled in a sack.
Blimey! Why do I have so many sacks? And poorly unable to untie them successfully 😎
May all beings be happy.
Long life, Beloved,
A postponed beauty each time
Sad news knocks the door—
———————————————————
Just two years ago a best friend of mine told me to stay safe living away from nuclear family. Just two days ago his name started to be a memory. Rest In Peace. You’ve been a best friend and family member. See you again. 💞💐
Long life is a beautiful dream of many. Yet what is a beautiful dream when faced with a reality that the dream might drop out anytime with no notice or sign?
If life should be shorter than expected, I hope the end meets with the point of no regret. That would suffice.
May all beings be happy.
A horse is running
In a round. To win it not;
To serve the master—
————————————————————————————————
Am I the horse or the master?
If the horse, do I know enough who is my master so that I don’t just gallop whenever anyone other than the master whips me.
If the master, do I know enough how to appropriately engage with the horse and whether or not the horse has endurance for certain round either race or equestrian.
More importantly do I know what’s a horse and what’s a master?
May all beings be happy.
No, Beloved. You are not red You are not yellow You are not blue Only. You are all gradationally spread from one point to another, Occupying Space, Led by Time. Time makes all matter. It becomes every milestone of journey. It gives chances to clarify the direction of journey. It sets free what should be said and what should be held back. Enjoy. Space is a secondary supporting detail. It doesn’t talk about the essence of journey. It shows what’s been hoarded by a traveler. It neglects what’s importance. It helps slow down when break is needed But at times it obscures the signs and messages. Beware! Stay where you are, Beloved with no nerves Knowing that space won’t corrupt you. It is a lining of colours in different levels of degree that beautifies your existence. Don’t quit, Beloved whichever the speed is Knowing that time sharpens your perceptive. It is what will be weighed and presented as a gift. You see that, Beloved? Or not? Oh, I know you’re tipsy! 😁 — A free verse about time and space between the Lover and the Beloved. Bored to death! Thanks God it’s Monday tomorrow! Singapore - Jan. 17, 2021 / 22:00
I never want to hurt myself, I just didn’t know who you are.
I got hurt by a cactus in a desert
Who pricks little fingers,
Who just want to touch this life softly,
Not hurting, not taking anything away.
Wounded, I decided to blame stupidity:
Why did I have to have to have to have to have to just touch cacti? I should have left that arid land long before I touched a prickly spirit.
A delayed regret is less important than a lesson learned but it always gives a story the most significant pivot.
Now
I’ll just admire from here
From where I stand
With millions of prayers
For a secret journey.
Yet I know you are a ghost days and nights.
Someday when I pour down the rain,
You’ll know.
Love is as sweet as water in drought—
Maybe—
If it is not late....
May all beings be happy.
rike jokanan 
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