From your Hill in the Sky
You found the light
After black, white and water
Everything became right

I've never met you
But you've made me cry
And live
Even for me
Everything will become right

Trials and falling
Do not define the man
The man is defined
By his will

You are proof

I look up to you
I follow your example
Your wisdom will be put to use
From an angel in training
To one who is at least a step further
Thanks, man

A small tribute to someone who has shown me by example that you can get through hard times and no matter how amazing you are, it's okay to feel down, as well as ask for help.

Berderap tegap nyaring bersuara
Saat pertama ku pajang jakun menutup pundak dan dada
"Universitasku universitas Indonesia. "
"Terangkum dalam frasa 'buku pesta dan cinta'"

Sayang hanya dalam nyanyian belaka
Isi kisahku hanya buku, tanpa pesta dan cinta

Jangan kurang jangan lebih jua
Pesta dan cinta punya takar unik pas tuk dicoba
Seperti kopi kelebihan kekurangan gula
Ada takaran pas 'tuk tiap lidah yg meminta

Kisah uiku kisah pesta
Pesta merayakan kebahagiaan,  kejayaan,  atau mungkin lepasnya keperjakaan
Kisah uiku kisah cinta
Cinta teman sebaya,  cinta maba alat pelampiasan atau cinta kakak tingkat kece mempesona
Jika kisah uimu belum ada pesta dan cinta
Maka jangan paksa diri menyeret kaki lepas dari skripsi dan tugas yang ada

Entah malang atau baik nasib akhir kisahnya
Jangan mau lulus jika belum mencoba

Dalam lagu mars universitas indonesia,  terdapat kalimat "buku,  pesta dan cinta" yang melambangkan kehidupan mahasiswa UI selama diperkuliahan.  Namun terkadang,  tidak semua bisa merasakan ketiganya.  Ada yang hanya membaca buku,  ada yang hanya berpesta, pula ada yang hanya pergi kuliah mengemis atau menebar cinta.  Adalah baiknya,  jika sebelum lulus nanti,  kita dapat merasakan ketiganya.  Entah baik atau buruk perjalanannya,  setidaknya kamu takkan penasaran karena tidak pernah mencoba.
Autumn Sep 2016

He looked like a mixture
Of my last ex-boyfriend
And the boy that
Passed my senior year of
High school.

The perfect balance of
One of my mistakes
One of God's mistakes.

But the book he was reading screamed
And I hadn't thought
About Dan since June
And I had hoped
To keep it that way.

But here I was opening the flood gates.
And I couldn't get a proper grasp on anything.
And my handwriting was so shaky it was almost illegible.

If the shackles of the bouldering social structures collapse then the stores are closed for winter.  Sandy can wear last month’s Louis.  

If the whole world allowed us in then you shouldn’t have procrastinated poisoning the fluorescence.

If you open the worn pages of time then you won’t die alone.
Not enough, huh?

Steely Dan the doctor Frankenstein.
“I cried when I wrote this song.  Sue me if I play too long,”
Compost dreams so not long-gone?

If you have to kill yourself, then Paris becomes your drug.  
Why would I intervene an ungrateful brat?

Don’t know if your veins will end up my perfect quill but if I have lose musical chairs to my father I will get you that spotlight goddammit.

Deadwood Haiku Mar 2015

no unauthorized
goddam cinnamon, that is
all the fuck we need
Kyle D Peay Jan 2015

Pull her close... Hug her tight... Until the pieces are put back together.
And when your done. Just whisper in her ear "I'm here...
And I'll always love you"

Daniel DeLuise Jun 2014

Anxious flashbacks in the back of your Cadillac, with
The window half down to drown out the drones of
Mom’s mouth, ten years old and I’m anxious to
Fill what I lack, but now I’m dying alone in
The back of a stranger’s hatchback and I
Wonder, will God let a junkie through  
The gates? Because Mom said the
Chance of a bum getting into
That place was as good as a
Camel strolling thru the
Eye of needle, or  
Something like
That, I don’t
I do know that Aunt Ruth said I was a needle in a stack of hay, so
I can’t die this way, because God would never make a kid shine
Like truth just to burn out in the soft glow of the flame against
A spoon, that’s just logic. ‘Cuz God, I tried to tie a thread
To my spine and swan dive into the fabric of this Earth,
But all I got was a couches’ bruise, a pillow filled with
The feathers of a plucked bird with its tongue-tied
And words’ lynched, destined to haunt PSA’s and
Statistics, now I’m itching for a way to lay
Or place to sit to die with a sense of
Purpose, so I stretch my arms out
With my palms up like Jesus,
But the Police will see the
Lesions, a haunting
Image of celestial
Intent, But God
Will only see

— The End —