Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
260 · Feb 2019
IT IS THAT TIME OF YEAR
Andii Sandi Feb 2019
I guess it is that time of year
when sunset gives more time to twilight
an overcast darkened by the warm light
painted beautifully on mirror calm lake

I think it is that time of year
as the cold numbs your mind at daybreak
a nice time to rest yet you have to stay awake
to rise and start another period of day

I know it is that time of year
when I have to glance back at my way
good one, bad one, or at a point midway
to find or create something of value

I am sure it is that time of year
as memories recall jolliness and rue
to hit reset and start the journey anew
back to origin and to people I hold dear.
177 · Apr 2019
through and through
Andii Sandi Apr 2019
A nation splits in two
Noises in tube and ballyhoo
Fabricated news to spread and spew
Bias and distorted point of view
Serenity is long overdue
Stay calm without further ado
One or two, it's up to you
Remember what is always true
We are Indonesia through and through

                 Surabaya, March 28, 2019.
Just a note for all my fellow Indonesian.
150 · Mar 2019
lost for words
Andii Sandi Mar 2019
Where should I look for them?
Sounds echoed from valley of thoughts
Beautiful, soft and clear
Ones I'd always want to hear
It's been a while since then
Ventured further to the glen
Heard them and jot them down
But they are nowhere to be found
Maybe I have to go way deeper
Further down into the mind chamber
Keep wandering, in search of freedom
And be lost only to find them.
                      
                        Surabaya, March 21, 2019
Andii Sandi Feb 2019
There’s nothing like the rain in February
It’s calming, like a mother’s calling
Reminds me of home, far in the distance
Etched in mind, longing in silence

There’s nothing like the rain in February
It’s persistent, like a father’s argument
Never ceasing, sometimes almost inspiring
Unyielding and never stops pouring

There’s nothing like the rain in February
It’s cold, like my sister’s hold
A remembrance told so poignant
Beautiful and sweet yet nonexistent.

— The End —