Looking for the words
the exact words of prayers
in several agnostic pages
with untidy, scattered phrases
- blindfold yourself like
how you're used to all this time.

In the backyard
of your six feet layers
of loneliness
interrogate the dogs,
like when you breathe in
the happiness.

Assemble
all the words.

Lament.

Express yourself
like how you make love
to the dark, feverish heartache.

Prayer
is when
you lump
all your fears
and desires
indefinite words,
waiting for
all the fractions
in the metasphere
to take over.

[Untukmu di Langkawi, 26 Jun 2018]

Beratus-ratus retakan kaca
tidakkan pernah imbang neraca
betapa berat hatiku menunggu
detik-detik tak berpenghujung
beribu-ribu detakan hati
takkan pernah akan ku lari

biar Bukowski dengan kebuntuan
biar Rimbaud dengan ketidaktentuan
akan hanya ada dirimu dalam
laci yang penuh dengan kepastian.

Berbatu-batu kau ke utara
begitulah rasa ini terawang-awang di udara.

Apa yang ku mahu

Hanya ku yang tahu



Biar ada datang membelenggu

Akan datang angin menyatu



Lari,lari pergi saja diriku

Jauh ke puncak aku tetap berlalu



Aku jiwa lama termangu

Bosan, letih jadi diriku



Kerna ada saja yang rasa tahu

Lebih dari rohku.


16 April 2012

Kehidupan
tak menjanjikan
harapan;

Kematian
tak menjanjikan
penyelesaian.

In the midst
of the hullabaloo,

I found a heaven
that resides deep
in the heart of the hell.

I ran towards it,
only to realize
that I was dead for all this time.

Isn't it funny that all it takes are just words of astute feelings and sufferings to make us reflect, while all the words have already existed long before we end up with that one powerful sentence.

There is no
debacle;
just a set of
uncertain chronicle.

While you sat at that corner
singing all your praises
over the cosmic and summer

I was at the other corner
listening to the words of your
worry and wonder.

I must have loved you
like how I adore my paracosm,
like how I need a microcosm.

Maybe it's for you but not for me, but who knows?

When will the time stop and give way to the paradoxical space that will shove the soul out of its life, eventually?

Tend to think that the archetypal white collar worker is what you should be before you delve into the reality?

Jumped into the ripest chord of a void song, and you found nothing but truth and perplexity?

Threw yourself into the wilderness but you are still deprived of happiness, only peace, filled with emptiness?

Crashed the mental into bi-polarizing set of uncertainty and sanity, driving everything towards the ravine of confusion and misinterpretation?

Dropped the last sweat of joy and contentment before you discover the eventuality, pessimistic value of the whole context?  

Until the ultimate full stop appears, will you understand what is the whole story is all about?

I want to open a business
but I will never trade
every words of sanctity
for it.

Teach me,
on how to open a shop
without a table
without a sign
without a premise
is it all done just
to break the promise?

I want to be like them
but I can't sell my words
on a tee, on a tele
becoming part of
the rotten machinery
is a sign of chaos
and profligacy.

even if I have to wait
at the end of the line
, I will do that.

How similar
we are
antonym is
turned into
the antidote
to the decaying
synonym.

There are only
two outcomes
out of this similarity;

burst of the sun
or a flower off the gun.

Put a mirror
in between us
and you might
not see yourself at all.

We are all bizarre,
but that is not our deepest scar.

Our love disregard the feeling inside us.

Just like the hitman, just like the cosmonaut, we are looking for the holy grail which is disputable after all, while everything that adores and devotes itself to us slowly fades away.

We serve the alternate illusion of eternity despite the struggle that love faced in fulfilling the well, that will never be well.

What is in there?

the severe coldness shot me still
like
how your tenderness caught me still.

We are tied in this together
harder, closer and tighter
I had this kind of bad fever
that I can see this last forever.

We are so compatible
like long lost friends
you are my decible
in the tightest wavelengths.

We are close to each other
like long lost siblings
you are my unending river
in one of the world's greatest findings.

We are so wide awake
like a record put on shuffle sings
you are my deadly snake
in the need of poisonous stings.

We are almost inseparable
like a fit thunder and storm
you are those birds that dabble
in the strike at sea out of norm.

We are hardly intangible
like hydrogen oxide in the air
you are the only trouble
in the search for lone hydrogen in pair.

We are so great in tandem
like Leonard Cohen's words of rhythm
you are the heart of my poem
in the greatest invention since algorithm.

You are surely the best ever
as,
I have lost count of my own blinks
you assured me that everything will be better
as,
I will never know what the future bring.

I fail,
like everyone else
before me or after me,
I can't hold the fort,
I can't ride the wave,
I can't bite the cliff,
but I should be proud
that I have never been
in the contention
to be excluded
from being chosen
by the mother,
from being taken away
by the father.

It will never be
the question of how far
we made it,
but it will always be
the question of how
we will deliver it.

This is just
a waiting game
that needs nothing else
besides perseverance
and persistence
to make sense
of everything
that will succeed
in disappearing
completely,
on one fine day.

We are just running away
or after something
if it never turns dark
from right to left
counterclockwise
the beast is still
tough and wide awake
the latitude means the world
is not in a linear desperation
to feed the temptation
of failure and destruction.

There are so many things
that you can judge upon;

all I ask from you is to act as
if my soul has long since gone.

mind drown in a sea full of life
take a season off for a slow dive
right at the middle of the earth
trap the sun and show its worth
of another thousand of surrender
at the bottom of your heartless cave
set the parity for the raging thunder
that owe us a save, after another save.

When the air hits my chest
it reminds me of the place
where you come to rest
when the rain strikes on my face
it misses your lost lips
that used to wander in daze
when the wind wipe my wrist
it recalls me of the place
where you used to call a bliss
awestruck, wonderstruck
was the only game
but now, dumbstruck
is the only known fame.

this is
the only lair for you
so I am not worried
if you lost your way.

Can you see the chaos?

They are not talking to you
they are in you
in each flow
of your blood
in every inch
of your bones

the dissonance! the abstract!
the lack of discipline!

it showers beaut
it radiates power
push your existence
through this
like what it is,
an existence, known as
ever since
the depression
cut the chain
get rid of the tie
embrace your persona
light the candle
and dance to this:

The moment you slowly sink
into a set of perfection is just
The moment you dissolve into
the motion of indefinite silence.

Maybe
I am just too young

And
I don't possess an iron lung

But
I am definitely where your heart has sunk.

So you want
to solve a mystery?
tell me, tell me
with all honesty

"Do you want to solve a mystery?"

I could tell you all the pain
darkness, sorrow, eruption
of eternal gloom
but we will become
nothing less than just
dust in this room
our souls will collide
as if there is no end to it
our bones will crumble
one by one,
shoulder to waist
waist to toe
oh, this is all just for a show!

the suffering, the awakening
give me a run for the money
rain on my parade
I know nothing but
we are all slowly sinking.

Mystery, mystery
what good will that bring?

So if I ask you,

"Do you still want to solve a mystery?"

What will you pry
out of your lovely cemetery?

There is no passable route
to the eventual soulless rite
skidded floors,
frozen painted walls
enclosed in jupiter's rail
embossed in eyelids tail
contradictional theory
off the Savannah 101
piroutting our own soul
writing off our own role
state of devastation
lifted off the barley field
stuck in a time warp
the sky has been waiting
and turning and rolling
tired of never ending doubt
flung towards the soul
aghast with how it ends
the kingdom never arrives
but with face full of joy,
you rob everything off us.

The moment has gone
and so does our bond.

One day we'll go at it again
and all this won't go in vain.

It's best if we don't breed
if for most of the time
we let our sisters
and brothers bleed.

Give me a wild poetry
I'll bow out quietly.

Show me a pale bigotry
I'll grow out saintly.

You're the last messiah
I am the last pariah
well teach me something else
before I disappear.

in
every death of my weary cells.

Ride the bus every day
till the sun makes its way
out of chaos,
the temperamental blues
like a dog going after
the isolated leaf
searching for the breath
of eternal grief.

send me over
a postcard
of tense yesterday
push me further
than where you departed
during the doomsday
hallelujah is the last hurrah.

Another day, another way
till summer rain, till winter sane
drifting away, drifting away,
way, way further,
way, way further.

Pretending to relish in
such a blasphemous living,

is an unpalatable,
nonsensical nerve wrecking blink.


Pretending to be alive
when you are not holding the knife,

is accepting a story
without important, logical strife.

Kudos to Kaepernick.

I just cannot drown all my beliefs and ideas, even if it contradicts my flesh and soul. When I heard that not standing up to the tune; that has always succeeded on sweeping all of the messes underneath the sad reality, to be deemed as subversive, I know that Rosa would definitely clench onto the seat tighter than ever.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

To drag our body out there, all over the precious hills and fields, while acting as if the scale has always been set fairly beneath you all this time, will hurt you more than myself. How can a mere matter of things decide our future, our destiny? We shall shape our fate, you shall shape your own fate, and to be judged on the perception biasedly built in the name of order for thousands of years, is a situation that should not be endured by anyone or anything in a tiny dot within this vast universe.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

And for that, I cannot stand proudly and profess my love to you as of now, even though I will always wear my heart on my sleeve for you to see. To be cheated, to be manipulated, to be deemed as surplus, by those at the tip of the plateau, that cunningly asked us to forget all the tangles and wrangles for the love of this sacred land, while unashamedly distribute everything off the land, off the ocean amongst them, is the last thing that we should allow to happen. I am one of those people that are not able to put on the mask on top of our meant-to-be honest faces, to say hail to the thief is worse than the eternal grief. I have never dreamed of burying the hatchet with them, not even for a second and if I ever do it, I shall be condemned and dismissed for forgetting the roots, the fons et origo of mine. To love you does not mean to stand still to the soulless melodies, to love you does not mean to bow down to the meaningless piece of cloth that has overseen countless infiltration and bombing over the years.

Kneel, my friend, kneel.

To love you is to fight for the rights of many, by any means, even by not standing up. When black is no longer the symbol of miserable, filth and calamity, we shall then breath with ease, stand on our feet and fully embrace the real meaning behind all those majestic words.

Kudos to Kaepernick.

I am tired
of putting on the shirt
because it reminds me
of the unwanted chain
before the imminent dawn
plucked bouquets
torn down curtains
ripped out blankets
burnt book covers
broken empty cups,

because all that
are just signs of a show
that is about to be staged.

I believe
that there is a life
somewhere out there
that is waiting for
a meteoric burst
in it.

But life is still
just a life
if it decides
not to leave
the uncorked bottle.

Look at the babies
they are sweet, free
and pure
everyone adores
them, yet you;

you
are everything
that contradicts them
when you were
just one of them,
not long
ago.

Why would I turn back
and smile,

if you left me out in the cold,
lost in the wild.

Such a
disappointment
I have placed
myself in a
confinement

and

lurking for hope
in desperation
is no longer
part of the
only question.

I did so many
foolish things
back when
I was young
but
loving you
is not
one of it.

I can see it beforehand
three months three wounds
and the Death is dragging me
hail the eternal chain
hail the Danse Macabre
the allegory is dead,
the hegemony is trapped
in the continuous fashion,
insurmountable passion
Oh Lord, you must've
loved me.

Love me
if you love me.

If you love me
why don't you
come here
and say
"I love you"

and we
can start anew.

If I let myself be myself,
then this world will never
have a case of ****** theft
if I let myself be myself,
then I will never be myself.

As the water runs off the tap,
let it flows, let it glows,
tornado, tornado.

If I ever be myself,
then the book would never
have met its owner off the shelf
if I ever be myself,
then what else would have left?

As the mother falls off the map,
let it shows, let it grows,
innuendo, innuendo.

The cut is temporary,
unlike woes.

But arrows
reside deep in the bow.

Nothing has
taken place
in this empty
cold and dark
remote room
it has been
and always will be
empty.

I can hear the
punching
on the table
the hard slamming
of the door
the shouting
of an ecstasy rage
from the outside
but still in here
in my little, cramped
secluded room
it is just silence.

There is nothing
for me
to command
in this
empty space
a wise, old
drunk man
once said
'don't try'
and somehow
it turns out
to be true
that everything
is here
not to be tried
and for all the
emptiness in it
there is nothing
for me
to command
in this
empty space.

There is nothing
for me
to wander around
in this empty space
there is no
road, street
or alley
for me to go
back and forth
but there is
always this
static presence
of feeling
of nature
of instinct
that has been
squashing me
sitting on me
telling me
to run and jump
frantically, wildly
just to see that
it bores nothing
and there is nothing
for me
to wander around
in this
empty space.

This empty space
can't be filled
this empty space
can't be replaced
this empty space
can't be changed
for
this empty space
has always been
empty
and it will
always be.

I want you to laugh,
honestly.
There is no better thing
that you can do
with your light voice,
light heart and light mind
even the slightest spark of fire
can burn the whole forest
but then again,
the possibility of having
the pain in seeing a perfectly composed mirror
is unbearable for me.

I know, I know,
that there is nothing
that I can do
the moment your face
turns pale
as if it is being drowned
by the darkest cloud,
falling down from the empty cliff,
I realized that
I am powerless,
and your smile is immortal.

but the sunshine appears again
from the beneath of
your pretty face
I have lost for words,
totally insane,
I am deeply amazed.

I want to see you chuckle
until the last light
comes slashing
through this bare eyes.

4/12/2015

Yes I heard and cried
knowing that you have died
in the midst of that ******,
sinful ruckus of Nagasaki
but fate is no longer great
tip-toed twinkle of a pathetic
plunge over the dying Sakura
I have not changed for years but
you, you have changed
for the romance, for the sanity
of your everlasting dance.

Fatal, it is fatal, they said.
Denial, it is a denial, I said.
The balloon has escaped for years
and it can only haunt us for years,
but now,

The balloon waved at me
as I was caught red-handed
by an atomic, stoic handshake
drowning athazagoraphobia,
so I left the *** unattended
and I wander for a sweet end
in Misaki, Sennichimae,
calm, youthful exuberance I love
I no longer remember
the lasting kisses
that she left,
as a soliloquy in May.

I am lost in the wildest dream
of an eternal existence.

A song starts, and it will end.

Eventually.

I will play your song all over again.
As the outside just started to rain,
and I light the joint to heal the pain.
All this time, even in the
tiniest, tightest lane,
I don't have to think, I always knew
the outcome.

And knowing that you have reached
the plateau, I feel numb.

My endorphins have never failed me.
Every time the tune crawled and bit my doldrums,
it did not fail me.

I feel fine, and everything shines.
I am done, and nothing put me off the lines.
I just had to, and it feels so true.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I miss you, and I wish that you knew.

25/2/2014

I hate routine
and even though
I hate it,
with all my guts
with all my life
with all my veins
and I have been
saying it
for as long
as I have lived
I am still
doing it
embracing it
enduring it
for almost
two years
I have been
out there
every single
weekdays
from seven to six
without fail
except for
those days
where I cannot move
or think
and sometimes
it stretched until
eight, nine at night
and there were
few times
where it stretched
to ten, eleven
close to midnight
and I have
to go out again
the next day
to do it again
to force
the cycle
and to force
myself
to jump over
the hurdle
just to get
a bowl
full of noodle
and I believe
it is the best
of all routine
that able
to be served
to the human
of all layers
of all levels
of all stratums
that are
desperately
in need of
a life.

So if you
ask me again
why do
I hate routine
please allow me
to ask you back
after all that
I have gone through
How can I not say
that I hate routine?

26/4/14

Remember what happened in that black 98
battered souls, bruised dignities, blackened eyes
fallacies, conspiracies
no apology, no sympathy
but this is David and Goliath
don't you remember,
like eighteen years ago
except for its atrocities
and ridiculosities.

Dad,
you inflicted this on me,
you should have known
that the wheel
doesn't stop rolling.

Can't you see
that the fish was gasping for air?

For the sake of your lust,
wanting to have a triumphant end
to such a meaningless contest
you lure it from its world.

How could you inflicted that
on such innocent, lovely soul?
How could you treated its life
as if it is unworthy at all?
How could you even sleep
when you have wounded another soul?

Dead or alive,
you have no right
to irresponsibly acted in that way.

Ignorance, arrogance.

No regret, no guilt.


Yes, because you are all murderers!

C'est la vie they said, but every moment they departed with the beautiful, delightful phrases that has mysteriously managed to distance itself from the that is you, you have failed again to realize the potential in you. You placed the burden in your mind, in the isolated chamber of yours, as if it's possible for you to fill in every inch of your sullen skeleton, you would. You have come to expect something that is living beyond the border of reality and in order for that to take into effect, the neglection of the genesis behind the seed of our life has to take place. Reality and truth, are the two things that have always been abandoned by greed and dishonesty that have been infesting our minds ever since we are doomed to feel the wrath of karma. We are the author of our own destiny and if we want to be happy, we should take control of the ship and for that to happen, I need a company to face the music and you are the reason that the ship is still afloat as it takes two to balance it. Everything is absurd but love.

We are all
part of this folklore,
that lead us to the only door.
There is only one single war,
and we keep asking for more.

Burn the flowers,
lose count on the feathers,
veil bought and dropped,
**** all the mobs.

Bomb the tomb they said, bomb the tomb.

I might lay the wreath on the innocence
on this ill-fated day
but in near future day
we will lay the wreath on the ignorance
on one fine day.

War should've been given a miss,
But life, life is a promise.