Save me in your poetry.
Then take it away anywhere you go.
You may never forget every single memory.
I hope the past will make learning for us going forward.
The words that you composed for me before
I will never erase from my memory.
Time may still offer,
where is the joy or the sorrow,
where love where is the lie.
Meeting may have been ours.
But now behold,
it turns out that farewell is more than anything else.
Maybe if someday you will find me.
I am always in your poetry.
Because I never went anywhere.
After all, you always carry me too.
And if possible you miss me.
Remember I miss you too.
Read it again.
I just might come back.
But really, I can't really promise that for sure.

The man
who was sitting
alone under the rooftop
with burning cigarette
on the right hand,
feeling beauty,
looking at the night sky,
waiting to see the moonlight,
it was me.

She said, "Finish what you have started".
I said, "You are my finish".

She's gone
another two years
with the memory
when I wrote this poem.
She's gone
and I still haven't found
a replacement,
even though I have written
many poems in her memory.
She's gone,
and that was the truth.
But poetry still has to be written,
and memories still have to be kept.
Now there's only one
story left.

She's typing the chat--
I am still waiting for that.
No poet ends yet.

I wrote my short story in a piece of paper.
I wrote it as short as possible.
I wrote in three lines.

I write a *******
and I realize...

A beautiful red broke a smile
on a shame face
O, it turns out that my beloved
long gone
and I failed to face

A blue sad sky
to the poet who is gloomy in front of the poem
stringing words
downing the imagination
the numb

Apparently, the flower is the beloved
O I forget how many times I searched
All in my yard
Grow in a heart!
Grow in a heart!
Bloom on a heart
Bloom on a poem!

O this is a poem for her
And the buzzing bee sing a song to her
And also sing a song to me

Sparrows making love
to hatch poetry,
the poet's smile and happy.

Stars shine in my head--
My bedroom is full of light.
I'm in outer space.

stay with me in a one day
when the last day
was fallen
and our eyes opened
we’ll be back for the beginning we started
our journey,
our love,
our mine,
and our heart
we’ll be back lived in one day
when you stay with me
in the time we spent together
and I can’t say anything you want to say
or sing our favorite song that always we sang together before you sleep on my shoulder

‘o the girl who always chooses her own way
and the man who always loves his dear’s choice’

Will you remain silent
when you see the many children
who died as a result of the genocide bomb explosions that occurred in Palestine?

Are we just spectators
and consuming this heartbreaking news?

Can we imagine this happening to our family,
our relatives,
those closest to us,
even our country
and our homeland?

Do we really care about humanity?
Do we think that we are nothing
so we cannot change everything,
including eliminating the oppression
that is happening there?

Do we really think like that?
Is that a decent life for all humans?
Don't they also have freedom?
Are we all this?
Please vote, free Palestine!
Free Palestine as we bias ourselves
for a better life,
for a more peaceful life,
for humanity
And for world peace.

I think how to start
You hope you do not get hurt
We are not a part

Sunrise is so gold.
  The path I take can be hold.
  The future is mine.

Night can be fallen in my dream,
but I could not swim in the dark.
The moonlight is so high,
and I try to get it.
Before death follows me,
you must hold me tight
and I am not drowning again.

We all need a dream that just not a dream.
We must go to get it,
even if you don't know how to get it.
You just need to follow your heart
and don't break your heart
by your great expectations.
I know we all need a dream that just not a dream.
One day, if you find your way don't tell everyone about it.
Don't tell everyone how you get there,
because some people just want to follow you
but they don't know that they are not you.
When you go and find the hard things to do,
when you feel you are too tired to continue,
when you feel you haven't got that success,
don't stop what you had been doing.
Keep your own way lead you,
and keep following your heart,
and take it with all of your soul.
You are enough,
and even you have more enough than fought.

Can I feel you?
I can not feel myself.
Can I love you?
I can not love myself.
Can I get you mine?
I can not get myself.
You are in a bad emotional, I said.

Yes, I am myself

If my poem tells a lie, will the world give me a truth?
I am alive but I do not feel I am alive.
I feel like I have lost my soul.
My soul of my life.
My soul of my imagination.
My soul of the day I feel I never get it at all.

If my poem tells me a truth, will I believe that the world tells me a lie?
I am alive but I feel like I am a loser.
A loser of my life.
A loser of my imagination.
A loser of the day I feel I get what I want it at all.

If my poem tells me everything about my life, will you think I tell a lie and the world give you a truth?

Thank you the spiders--
     You have saved my heart before,
     giving home for me.

That's the pretty day--
Cigarette burns out.
My finger's fallen by sparks.

Today I can write the saddest poem,
like a beautiful birthday cake cut into pieces
or a candle that is blown out after a wish is read
or people congratulating you
on all the achievements
that you have persisted
until now in your growing age.

Today I can write the saddest poem,
but not about my birthday,
but about the days,
about the months,
about the years,
that I've been through,
everything was happy,
yes I am very happy.

The art
will tell you
about the pure soul.
It is not only
about the feeling
in suffer or happy
when we create it
by ourself.
The art
will show
the other sight
when some people
don't.
The art
is not only
about the work.
It is about
life.

The art of longing
was painted
on the wall of sadness,
and yeah
you are the ink of my falling tears.

The best people
are those around you
right now.
Love them,
and acknowledge
that they are the people
closest to you,
not in the past,
or who you dream of
in the future.

The best place
I ever lived
was in your heart,
I am no longer cold.

I am the character in a game of love.
You try to gotcha by purchasing and hope you will get the best character, but I am not over power one you want it.

Far in your eyes
you see a city full of light.
Deep in my eyes you can see full of disappointment.
In the eyes of the city we live in together is far from trust.
Sometimes
it's far
from here
to-get-t(her)e.

The day I feel good
    is the day I do not think
    about life so hard.

Because the dialogue between us is only a matter of waiting for time.

When we last saw each other
or when it all ended
and never happened forever,
just like that.

I find you
in my dream
and
I get you
in real life.
The past will be the past,
but the future needs me.

The girl
            whom
        I loved has gone,
I can see her broken my bone.
The girl
           whom
       I loved has gone,
she takes me in the middle of silver dawn.
The girl
           whom
       I loved has gone,
the dead body of me should be found.

When I was a child,
I often played in the field,
played with mud there,
ran on the rice fields,
on the vast expanse of rice,
birds were flying,
chirped sweetly,
the air was fresh,
the smell of dew,
the sun's light was so beautiful shining on a hopeful face,
sweat pouring down,
hope the harvest can go well.

But when I grew up,
I saw that many rice fields became high-rise office buildings,
company factories.
People lost their fields,
were sold to the powerful.
They say,
for development,
for common prosperity.
But,
they destroy the environmental order, waste is scattered,
the soil is completely damaged and excavated.
They displace,
drive away.

They say this is our land.
They are the rich.
Who can manage everything.

I will ask for the heaviest rain for today, so that you won't go anywhere, including leaving me alone.

The last beachside I visited your own funeral.
I remembered the drizzle fell for the first time,
when I led you home first.
When the seagulls fly low overhead,
then the wind blows north,
and the beach sand embraces our cold feet,
it turns out the sea is where I no longer find you.

Chanting sounded like a curse of freedom.
I don't hear your singing anymore,
when I once decided to **** myself
on the cliff shore
where many thistles grow,
but you
invite me for another time.

The last kid
in this world
was followed by death
but he did not care about it
because everyday
he'd been living in fear
surrounded by adult
who never understood him.
The last kid
in this world
never had a friend.
And the death
offered himself to be.

Don't put withered flowers
in your cracked vase.

If you want to stop,
stop right now,
because the LOVE will continue
no matter how far the JOURNEY.

In the morning
when I started to love myself,
I found myself smile,
I saw that face
on the broken mirror
I used to stay.
I love that part
when the sun
comes to my room
I feel that moment
was the precious
I ever had.
Even though at the past,
when I loved you
when I thought you were mine
when I thought you wouldn't leave me
when I thought I will be always with you
when I felt I would not lose your beautiful smile I ever see
I never give my heart
space to love me, as myself.
Today
I still exist
at the present
and you had ignored me.

I am happy.

The moon is calling me
To fly to the night sky
But I do not have a couple wings to go away
And I decide to pray
I wish I could not cry
Because the moon is calling me
And I always stay
But I never try
I wish the moon could read it
My soul is here and also fear
I am so sorry, my dear moon
The beautiful one that
I am looking for every noon

Hi, night!
What are you doing there?
Should you bring me the moon?
I need the moon to accompany beside me.
I cannot sleep.
I am not already for the dark.
I am not afraid of.
I just need a friend here.
Hi, night!
Do you want to know something secret?
The sun always loves you.
The sun is still waiting for you.
The dawn always remembers what I must do.
Hi, night!
I love you for the moon
you never give me.
I wish I could forgive you
because you will leave me
in the sunlight,
in the morning,
in the reality.

I heard the night singing
and dancing in the wet streets,
the cold wind that blows into melodies,
the star and the moon with its dim light,
the best show that not everyone knows about,
and I'm sitting in silence,
and a lit cigarette in the right hand,
and a poem,
and the end of this year.

I think I know that I've gone too long
I forget the day and also the way
I stand long for the time I think I know the place that I have to know more
Maybe I get lost
Maybe I know I get lost
But I am still thinking I know that I've gone too long
And trying to come back
Do you mind if I come back?
Do you still accept me back?
In your heart, in everything I've done before

Every single poem always tells about the secret of life that love is hidden by every single poet.
The words cannot be their own.
Every single feeling must be told, not only by their mouth but also by their pen.
A poem is also a feeling.
No body knows,
so does the poet.

There is still hope
to escape from
    the nightmare
             and
anxiety
that haunts the wild nights,
I had been spending all night by writing those feelings
on the cold
       and damp walls,
and I think that we are one of those who need
warmth in love and life.

And here I think
that the poems let me speak
for those who have no voice.

On a cigarette ****
that burned out
but forgot to smoke,
in a cup of coffee
whose dregs
are accidentally swallowed,
also a pile of novels
whose contents
are only romance,
I love you like a loss.
I once imagined
you were writings
that I needed to read many times
until I could understand
then I guessed
and ended up
still wrong.
Sometimes,
we are too confident
for things that are not
necessarily certain
then turned off
after reality hit it
repeatedly.