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Matt Feb 2015
Thank You John P. Baca
Thank you Mr. Baca
For your service

During the war you were in front of your troops

On Christmas Day, 1969
You came across a Vietnamese man
You noticed he was just sitting there
And you said "surrender" in Vietnamese
He showed pictures of his family

In 1990 this man was among the Vietnamese that Mr. Baca worked with
In building a clinic to help the people there

In your Medal of Honor video
You said you wore the medal
For those who have served
And know what combat is like

You took your helmet and jumped on a grenade
Saving the lives of your men

Thank you for your service
A terrible thing war is

Your actions help me to realize
That love for our fellow man
Is most important
Continue reading...
Bintun Nahl 1453 Mar 2015
MUHASABBAH
4:00 pagi kita bangun solat subuh, kemudian kita bersiap2 utk ke tempat kerja, sampai kantor pukul 7:00 pagi, hari masih gelap.
Mungkin kita anggap hari ini akan hujan, jadi abaikan. Masuk kantor, bekerja dan kita lihat pukul 12:00 siang, sudah waktunya makan siang, tapi keadaan masih tetap gelap.
Keluar pintu kantor, suasana masih gelap, hitam pekat seperti malam..mungkin masih bisa dianggap hari ini akan hujan lagi. Jadi abaikan saja.
Tapi kalo jam 14:00 pm pun hari masih gelap.. pertanda apa itu?..keesokkan pun sama, nonton tv semua orang kalang kabut menceritakan bahawa dunia ini sudah tidak ada lagi siangnya..dan begitu juga dengan lusa..masih tidak ada lagi matahari..
Tetapi pada hari keempat kita bangun pagi, kita dapat melihat matahari, tetapi jangan terkejut karena matahari telah terbit dari sebelah barat..
Kehebatan ahli dunia akan mengatakan itu fenomena alam, tapi sadarkah, itulah pertanda besar yang paling awal sebelum tibanya hari kiamat!!
Maka telah tertutuplah pintu taubat..
Saat itu, kita akan lihat satu fenomena luar biasa di mana golongan kaya akan keluarkan semua harta utk diinfakkan, golongan yang tidak pernah baca quran, 24 jam baca quran, golongan yang tak pernah solat jemaah akan berlari2 menunaikan solat secara berjemaah..tapi sayangnya semuanya sudah tidak berguna lagi..
Bismillahirrahmanirrahim.
Continue reading...
Aridea P Sep 2012
love 0.5%
dari awal memang aku hanya kertas kosong bagimu
tak bisa digambar, tak bisa ditulis
yang terlupakan, yang tertinggal
yang terbuang, tak berharga
meski ku coba tuk tulis sendiri
kau hapus begitu saja,
dan kau buang

nama ku tak pernah kau sebut
mungkin karena kau lupa
mungkin karena kau tak suka
aku Erikaa
kau bisa panggil ku apa saja
sesukamu
tapi jangan,
jangan kau tak menyapaku

ku baca statusmu
diam-diam,
dari akun temanku,
teman baikku

kau benar suka dia?
haha tentu saja!
kau kembali ke kampung halaman,
besoknya kau pergi lagi menjemputnya
oh betapa beruntungnya dia
dicintai malaikat sepertimu

jika kau menikah,
apa ada kau akan mengingatku?
mengingat kekonyolanku?
menertawai kebodohanku?

kini semuanya ku buang,
semua tentangmu
senyummu,
candamu,

tapi ku mohon,
izinkan aku menyimpan foto-foto mu
bukan foto dirimu,
tapi foto mu,
pohon, jalanan, Samudera Atlantik, yang kau foto

No!
Akan ku hapus semua!

Terima kasih tuk selama ini.
Kau tlah berikan 0.5% cinta mu padaku
Terima kasih telah 99.5% membenciku
sehingga aku sadar akan kedudukanku
Terima kasih sudah 100% mencintai dia
aku yakin kau takkan menyakitinya

""Selamat G----- F--------- F--------
Semoga kamu BAHAGIA""
Continue reading...
Aridea P Oct 2011
Janji Ku
Jumat, 13 Agustus 2010

Tlah beribu-ribu menit lalu
Aku tak jumpa lagi catatanku
Tak ku tumpahkan lagi pikiranku
Tak ku kotori lagi kertas-kertas ku
Dan aku rindu...
Ingin menulis lagi
Supaya aku bisa baca lagi
Sambil tersenyum memuji
Alangkah indahnya tulisanku

Apa arti semua itu??
Entahlah, 2 tanda tanya untuk itu
Ku tak akan pernah lelah menulis
Aku janji, bila aku sempat-
kan ku tulis beribu-ribu kata
Agar terlukis kisah hidupku
Yang penuh warna-warni kehidupan


Created by. Aridea .P
Continue reading...
So Dreamy Jan 2017
ruang tergelap
Kata demi kata
Kuleburkan menjadi beberapa helai untaian kalimat
Demi melepas seikat rindu
Untuk seseorang berpandangan sayu
Yang telah lama diombang-ambing oleh gelombang kelabu
Seberat langit mendung yang sendu
Berpayung ia lama mencari lentera menuju ujung jalan
Sembari menanti hentinya rintik hujan
Tanah becek berlumpur tempat kakinya lama singgah
Di mana guntur tak ada lelahnya menumpah ruahkan gundah

Kata demi kata
Kuleburkan menjadi beberapa helai untaian kalimat
Demi melekatkan seikat harapan
Untuk seseorang yang tengah dihuyung geramnya badai topan
Yang tak hentinya berharap agar matanya dibutakan mentari pagi
Jiwanya lama berkelana mencari, entah ke mana cahaya itu pergi
Jauh dalam sudut yang gelap ia dibiarkan sendiri*

-------------------------------------------------------­------------------------------------

Telah kuleburkan kata demi kata menjadi beberapa helai untaian kalimat
Untuk kompas dalam hidupmu yang telah kehilangan arah
Dibutakan oleh gulungan-gulungan masalah

Juga dalam doa-doa malamku dan setiap sujudku di atas sajadah,
Kubisikkan sebuah pinta agar dirimu selalu dalam pentunjuk-Nya,
Agar kelak dapat kau baca helaian untaian kalimat penyamangatku,
Yang kusampirkan dalam saku jaketmu hari itu,
Dapat merontokkan seluruh perasaan kelabu dalam kalbumu,
Mendepakmu dari sudut gelap di ruang tergelap pikiranmu sendiri.
#poem #poetry #sad #puisi
Continue reading...
Aridea P Nov 2011
Dia adalah Al-Qur'an Ku
Palembang, 8 September 2011

Dia adalah..
yang mampu membersihkan fikiranku,
membuatku tertidur di malam hari,
menemaniku hingga pagi.

Dia adalah..
yang berharga dari benda apapun,
sangat suci dan terang,
sumber hidup yang bermakna.

Dia adalah..
penerang jalan selamanya,
takkan pernah berubah,
terkadang dilupakan.

Dia adalah kitab milik Nabi ku Muhammad,
yang abadi,
indah,
warisan paling mulia.

Dia adalah Al-Qur'an,
hal yang selalu ku baca sebelum tidur,
ayat yang selalu bku ulang setiap sholat,
nilai yang selalu ku aplikasikan di dalam kehidupan.

Aku cinta Al-Qur'an.
Continue reading...
Aridea P Jun 2012
Kau Ini Abstrak
Palembang, 9 Juni 2012

Kau kira aku ini apa?
Seenaknya menampar bayanganku
Mengoceh seakan aku tak pantas

Kau pikir aku ini siapa?
Manusia konyol yang sama sepertimu?
Bukan, aku ini hanya fans mu

Kau pikir aku seperti apa?
Seenaknya membaca pikiranku
Menulis kata yang kau kira tak bisa ku baca

Kau ini abstrak!
Berwujud tapi tak nyata
Ku mengenalmu bukan di dunia nyata

Kau bilang apa?
Ini hanya mimpi?
Tapi kau benar-benar ada
Hanya saja tak ada di sini

Aku ini apa?
Mencintaimu saja aku tak boleh
Tak berharap apapun tak boleh

Aku ini aku
Kamu itu kamu
Kita tak mungkin bersatu

Aku ini aku
Aku bukan kamu
Aku akan melupakanmu
Continue reading...
Aridea P Aug 2014
Aku Ingin
Palembang, 31 Agustus 2014

Aku ingin segera menjadi dewasa
Supaya aku bisa menikmati hidup lebih leluasa
Minum kopi sambil mengobrol tentang politik dan penguasa
Duduk di café menulis novel dan mengambar sketsa

Aku ingin segera wisuda
Memiliki pekerjaan sendiri yang aku damba
Memiliki apartemen sendiri dengan konsep yang aku suka
Membeli semua buku yang ku anggap menarik dan membuat sendiri ruang baca

Aku ingin segera mengakhiri masa kesendirianku
Ku harap aku bisa memilih sendiri pasanganku
Seseorang yang selalu setia di saat apapun
Seseorang yang bisa ku ajak “gila-gilaan” sepajang waktu

Aku ingin segera mengandung
Memiliki anak-anak yang manis yang akan ku panggil “sayang”
Memanjakan mereka seperti aku dimanjakan bunda
Membahagiakan orangtuaku dengan kehadiran mereka

Aku ingin

Aku ingin mati dikelilingi orang-orang yang ku cinta
Continue reading...
Victoria Jul 2019
Black excellence?
Black excellence?
What is that you say?
Black excellence is a Term used loosely.

Black excellence is The excellence of African Americans.
Like Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks, Harriet Tubman, Frederick Douglas.
But wait? How is it Black excellence?

When they mayrtred for America to change.
This is true, although it is black excellence.

These African American people did what
The whites called “Impossible” to us *******
Back then in those slavery times

You said what? “ *******”
Yes, that’s right, it’s what we were called.
The white man didn’t think of us as anything ;
But a Black, Stupid, Slave.

We had it hard.
We fought for equality, respect, and justice.

So again what is “Black Excellence,” You say?


Black excellence is the confirmation of us African Americans making achievements that the “white man” said we couldn’t do.

The “white man” you say?
Who is he?
The one who we used to call masa
While in those field picking cotton and tobaca

Not tobacco but baca because we couldn’t speak
They didn’t want us to be intelligent

They wanted us to fail so they laugh and say “ you dumb ******”

But I’m here to say that I
Will never fold
To this racism we have

This injustice we have
Because I
I am on the path of excellence
And it may be narrow
To some of you

But to me, it is already been done.
Why is that, you say?
Because god deemed it so
According to Philippians 4:13

I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me

This is what black excellence is
I was going to enter this in a contest for scholarship money but I didn’t think it was good .
#newtothis #old
Continue reading...
Mikaila Nov 2013
Poems Written on Funeral Home Stationary
The Watch
The watch kept right on ticking, as if nothing had changed. It was like a sixth person at the little round marble table. The stone was cold on my arms. The funeral director pushed it across the table. "This was the only thing on him." My aunt took it graciously, set it by the folder full of everything ever recorded about Donald P. Baca, and from that moment on, it drew the eyes of everyone there, irresistible as a corpse, and as gruesome. tick tick tick as if nothing had happened. I found myself thinking that if he were my brother, I would keep that watch ticking forever, change its batteries, a type of insignificant immortality.

Funeral Homes
The air of calm in funeral homes has always disturbed me. It's cloying, somehow. Too strong. Like the overwhelming scent of peony flowers if you put them in a vase- it darkens your whole house with sweetness. I think I resent knowing that my feelings are being influenced by soothing beiges and classical music. A tissue box and a little bottle of Purell sit on every surface big enough to hold them properly. I find that the anticipation of my "needs" as a griever... offends me.

Survivors
Funerals are not for the dead. They are for the survivors.

Tears
Death is not about trying not to cry. You have to hurt yourself with it to heal from it. There is no shame in funeral tears. They, like death, are inevitable and natural. (My own dry eyes, they shame me.)

Looking In
That is the problem with us writers- every private, gauche little moment of impropriety is fuel for our art, and we must record it. (Intrude upon it.)

Paperwork
1953
***: Male
Color: White
How different it was then.

Grown Up
This is the first time my aunt, whose respect I have always striven for, has even asked my opinion on something "grown up". I thought I'd want her to, but I no longer care. Maybe that means I am finally "grown up".

Absurdly
My aunt gives her email to the man across the table: her name, first and last, no spaces, and the number 1. I find myself wondering irresistibly, inappropriately, absurdly, if anybody ever sits here with a "FaIrYpRiNcEsS4963luv4eva" and has to dictate it to him like that...

Mourners
There are 5 of us here. We are all different, in grief. I am on the outside looking in, an observer, offering the perfect hug or well timed touch of the hand because I feel emotions like room temperature, but not like fever. I look in on tears, silence, on the grip like a vice: on the propriety of being personable to a man who knows your brother has just died, as if that- even death! - gives no permission to be less than polished. And one of us is absent entirely, his truancy a palpable response, just as present as my mother's strangled tears. Her shame frustrates and saddens me- I admire the sincerity of grief, especially when I cannot reach it.

You're Here With Me
The funeral director answers his cell phone. He has the same phone as you, ****, and having seen you answer it yesterday, my mind overlays the images strangely, like a double exposure photograph. It should disturb me, but it only makes me miss you- my mind seeks to erase his image and leave only yours.

Age
Everyone looks older, right now- sunken collarbones and wrinkles weighing down faces. As if they age in sympathy that my uncle is finished with that.

Fishhook
My mother struggles against tears like a worm on a fishhook, and it is agony that ****** my arms, in the air and sliding along the walls. It clashes oddly with my aunt- like a still pond- her polished charm and practiced smile don't feel forced, which only makes it all feel more wrong. I know she is struggling inside, too.
Continue reading...
Liz Jul 2014
The Valley of Baca
Emma Lazarus (1849-1887)

A brackish lake is there with bitter pools
Anigh its margin, brushed by heavy trees.
A piping wind the narrow valley cools,
Fretting the willows and the cypresses.
Gray skies above, and in the gloomy space
An awful presence hath its dwelling-place.

I saw a youth pass down that vale of tears;
His head was circled with a crown of thorn,
His form was bowed as by the weight of years,
His wayworn feet by stones were cut and torn.
His eyes were such as have beheld the sword
Of terror of the angel of the Lord.

He passed, and clouds and shadows and thick haze
Fell and encompassed him. I might not see
What hand upheld him in those dismal ways,
Wherethrough he staggered with his misery.
The creeping mists that trooped and spread around,
The smitten head and writhing form enwound.

Then slow and gradual but sure they rose,
Those clinging vapors blotting out the sky.
The youth had fallen not, his viewless foes
Discomfited, had left the victory
Unto the heart that fainted not nor failed,
But from the hill-tops its salvation hailed.

I looked at him in dread lest I should see,
The anguish of the struggle in his eyes;
And lo, great peace was there! Triumphantly
The sunshine crowned him from the sacred skies.
'From strength to strength he goes,' he leaves beneath
The valley of the shadow and of death.

'Thrice blest who passing through that vale of Tears,
Makes it a well,'-and draws life-nourishment
From those death-bitter drops. No grief, no fears
Assail him further, he may scorn the event.
For naught hath power to swerve the steadfast soul
Within that valley broken and made whole.
Hebrew - Baca BACA
(bay' cuh) Place name meaning, “Balsam tree” or “weeping.” A valley in Psalms 84:6 which reflects a poetic play on words describing a person forced to go through a time of weeping who found God turned tears into a well, providing water.
Continue reading...
D Aug 2019
Kālēḇ
“Tiga tahun dan kau tak pernah menulis tentangku.”
Katanya setengah bercanda, rambut hitam sebahu itu menutupi sebelah matanya. Bahkan saat berbicara tentang kecewa, dia tetap memilih untuk tidak menatap mataku.
“Tidak seperti pada si musisi itu, atau si perempuan yang kau bilang jahat.”
“Kau tahu aku hanya bisa menulis saat aku terluka, atau saat ada kafe baru di Jakarta — Namun itu tuntutan.”
Dia mendelik, tapi aku tahu dia sedang menahan tawa. Tawa yang kudengar hampir setiap hari setahun lalu. Selain bunyi tawa, terlalu banyak yang kita tahu akan masing-masing.
“Ya. Sepertinya seru kalau ada yang menulis tentangku.”
“Menulis tentangmu? Harus kumulai dari mana tulisan itu?”
Walau pemilihan kata “Seru” terdengar sangat remeh ditelingaku, pikiranku hinggap ke hal lain; mungkin harus kutekankan pada si konyol bersampul Rock and Roll ini bahwa ide tentangnya memang terlalu banyak dan terlalu dalam untuk digambarkan lewat satu atau seribu kata, setidaknya untukku. Di saat banyak yang mengagumiku karena lidah ini terlalu banyak berceloteh tentang film, sastra dan bercinta, laki-laki satu ini telah mendengar sinisnya makian yang terlontar dari lidahku — serta menjadi saksi akan terlemparnya makian tersebut ke sudut-sudut ruang. Selama dua tahun kedua bola mata coklatnya harus melihat ratusan lembar diri ini. Setiap hari lembaran yang berbeda. Namun aku tahu, dari sekian lembar yang ia baca, hanya beberapa yang betul-betul ia hafal - telaah - dan dia simpan di memori terdalamnya untuk suatu saat ia bolak-balik lagi. Setelah setahun berpisah dengannya, tubuh ini seakan tak mampu menghapus rasa yang begitu familiar, begitu kental, begitu erat, saat bersanding disebelahnya. Tidak pernah ada yang melihatku setelanjang ini.
“Kamu ingat saat kita hendak berangkat ke Bandung?”
“Untuk nonton konser Jazz?”
“Ya.”
Aku bisa merasakan nafasku berhenti.
“Aku melemparmu dengan handphone-ku.”
“Yang lalu retak dan mati.”
“Aku meneriakimu.”
“Aku juga.”
Terlepas persona beringasnya, suaranya hampir tidak pernah bernada tinggi, kecuali satu kali.
“Hari itu aku bertengkar dengan Ibu.”
Ada sesuatu dari dirinya yang sampai detik ini tak bisa kutemukan pada orang lain; ketidakmunafikannya.
“Kalian berdua sama sarapnya. Itulah yang bikin kalian begitu dekat.”


Dia tidak pernah berusaha menenangkanku dengan khotbah klise tentang kasih Ibu, atau tentang tanggung jawab seorang Ibu yang begitu berat — yang kadang membuatnya meledak membanjiri semesta dengan segala emosinya. Dia tidak pernah berpura-pura menjadi filsuf, menaruh tanda tanya kepada setiap kata dan kejadian, atau tidak pernah menjadi psikolog gadungan yang memaksaku bercerita saat otak ini masih melepuh belum waras. Jika banyak perempuan yang dalam hati berdarah-darah karena ingin diperhatikan, kekagumanku terhadap cuainya lelaki ini patut dipertanyakan. Sikap yang terlihat acuh tak acuh itu malah terlihat begitu natural di mataku. Ada perasaan nyaman yang tak bisa dijelaskan lewat kata-kata di saat aku tidak lagi mendengar rentetan omong kosong seperti; “Semua akan baik-baik saja.” “Tuhan akan membalas suatu yang baik dan buruk.” “Kamu perempuan yang kuat.”
Sebaliknya, lelaki nyentrik ini lebih memilih untuk menatap diam sebelum ia menyetel lagu pilihannya untukku keras-keras. Mengenal orang ini begitu lama, ada sedikit banyak hal yang kupetik dari hubungan kita yang lebih sering tidak jelas; mungkin cinta kasih tak harus repot.
Continue reading...
Bintun Nahl 1453 Mar 2015
POLIGAMI
Poligami itu hukumnya mubah (QS. An Nisa 3) tidak ada thalab (seruan) disana secara jazm (yang menguatkan) untuk disebut berhukum sunnah, ataupun wajib. Dan tidak ada illat ataupun syarat yang menjadikannya wajib ataupun sunah.
Di ayat tersebut ada frase "ma thoba" (yang kalian senangi), jadi disitu Allah memberi pilihan (atas keMahatahuannya Allah atas mahluk-Nya), karena memang mubah itu statusnya "pilihan"
Kalau dianalogikan, seperti orang makan lauk kerupuk. Ada yang suka/memilih makan pake kerupuk, ada yang nggak suka. Bukan berarti yang suka makan kerupuk, lebih terpuji, dan yang tidak suka makan kerupuk, tidak terpuji. Atau sebaliknya.
Dan 'adil' bukanlah illat atau syarat, dibolehkannya seorang laki-laki (suami) untuk berpoligami (menikah lagi)...
Sederhananya begitu cara memahami 'hukum Allah' yang satu ini. Jangan sampai suka dan ketidaksukaan kita terhadap sesuatu membuat kita salah persepsi tentang hukum yang satu ini... Wallahu'alam
========================
Semoga yang baca nggak salah persepsi ya...
Continue reading...
Torin Mar 2016
for Jimmy Santiago Baca
You found your freedom
Through incarceration
Prison walls and prison guards
And steely cold metal bars
Your conviction became your conviction
Your story my inspiration

You can keep a man in chains
But you can't keep him from freeing his mind
From reaching someone
He'll never be able to touch

And light radiates
Behind your words
Fiery purple imagination
Images of thoughts and feeling
And how you found your freedom
Behind penitentiary walls
Jimmy Santiago Baca. An amazing poet, with an amazing story.
Continue reading...
Aridea P Jun 2012
kau SALAH!
Ku bicara ini.
Kau bicara itu.

Ku lakukan ini.
Kau lakukan itu

Tanpa sepengetahuanku
kamu
berbicara tanpa sepengetahuanku

Berbicara kepada mereka
Sebenarnya apa tujuanmu?
Mempermalukanku?

Tak masuk akal?
Kata-katamu lebih dari aku
Tak bisa bersama?
Kemudian aku pergi?
Ah, kau SALAH!

Baca benar-benar!
Kembalilah ketika kau sadar!
Continue reading...
fatin Oct 2017
keliru
melihat kamu meluru laju dan melambai
biarpun jauh, hatimu aku baca
lantas aku bilang maaf
pantas dan cepat aku meluah
jelas setiap rasa aku khabarkan

sayangku,
hakikat dunia tiada siapa mahu sunyi
namun aku harus gagahi jua rasa ini
andai ada hari kita tidak bersua seperti ini lagi
dalam tidur aku sentiasa ku rasa dakapmu
dan dalam setiap hariku, sentiasa indah dengan wujud imaginasi aku tentang kamu

sayang,
bukan kah amaran dunia pada kita sudah jelas?
tentang rindu yang tak bersahutan
cerita perasan yang sentiasa dan selamanya tak pasti
dan sentiasa aku pinta kamu
untuk terus percaya aku

lalu lembut tanganmu menyapa aku
meminta aku berhenti

entah kenapa
dalam diam dan biacaraku berhenti
aku rasa nyaman dalam dakapmu

mungkin ada pekara yang patutnya aku diamkan

--mungkin ragu aku adalah sama resah hatinya

mungkin.
?

-f 1030pm oct 2nd
#2017 #puisi #melayu #poems #poetry #malay
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Shane Joshua Baca May 2016
William Arthur Baca
If I die today or pass away tomorrow
forever my heart remains hollow
will God forgive me even though I didn't follow
release me from this game
release me from my sorrows.  -Shane Book
Continue reading...
BILLYtheKidster Jul 2010
11. Statements Made By They Who Knew The Kid
"He was a brave, resourceful and honest boy. He would have been a successful man under other circumstances. I loved the youngster in the old days and can say now after the passing fifty years that I still love his memory. He has gained an unfair and undeserved reputation. Most of the stories told about him are simply not true at all. He was born into poor circumstances and did what he did to get by. He was a thousand times better and braver than any man hunting him, including Pat Garrett." - Frank Coe, close friend

"He stayed with me at my home for most of one winter, during which time we became staunch friends. I never enjoyed better company. He was humorous and told me many amusing stories. He always found a touch of humor in everything. He never seemed to care much for money. He never drank. He would go to the bar with anyone, but I never saw him drink a drop, and he never used tobacco in any form. Always in a good humor and ready to do a kind act for some one." - George Coe, close friend.

"I liked him very much. He had his share of good qualities and was very pleasant. He had a reputation for being considerate of the old, the young and the poor. He was loyal to his friends and above all loved his mother devotedly. He was unfortunate in starting life and became a victim of circumstances. In looking back to my first meeting with him my impressions of him were most favorable and I can honestly say that he was a man more sinned against than sinner." - Miguel Otero Jr, friendly aquaintence

"Today he is featured as a mean man, as dark as a Mexican. He wasn't. He was a light complexioned boy who was always smiling. He was very brave and loyal to his friends. He's gone now, but many Spanish girls mourned for him." - Carlota Baca Brent, resident

"He was a remarkable boy. Far above the average of the young men of those times and he undoubtedly had the making of a fine man in him." - Susan McSween, close friend

"He had a great personality and could ingratiate himself in people's good graces very quickly. He had laughing blue eyes, always smiling or laughing, very accommodating and good hearted. He had an innocent timid look and all of this took with the girls at once."
- Lily Casey Klasner, resident
Personal Note: Ms Klasner was Bob Ollinger's girlfriend when Billy killed Ollinger during his great escape, and apparently even she had kind words for The Kid. Furthermore, when news of Bob Ollinger's death reached his mother, his mother was quoted to say the following. "Bob was a murderer from the cradle. If there's a hell, he is surely there."

"All the wrongs have been charged to him, yet we who really knew him know that he was good and had fine qualities. We have not put our impressions of him into print and our silence has been the cause of great injustice to him." -  Martin Chavez, close friend

"He (Garrett) was afraid to go back into the room to make sure of whom he had shot. I went in and was the first to discover that they had killed my little boy. I hated those men and I'm glad I've lived long enough to see them all dead and buried."
- Deluvina Maxwell, very close friend

"He has gained an undeserved and unfair reputation to this very day,
and so his truest to life story written poetically is my mission to set the record straight."
- BILLYtheKidster, Me

*******************­*

I hope what you've read will put some falsehoods to bed
regarding all of the untrue things that Billy allegedly did.
This concludes my truest to life story of William H Bonney,
The Forever Legendary BILLY the Kid
Continue reading...
John Milton
Psalm 84
How lovely are thy dwellings fair!
O Lord of Hoasts, how dear
The pleasant Tabernacles are!
Where thou do’st dwell so near.
My Soul doth long and almost die
Thy Courts O Lord to see,
My heart and flesh aloud do crie,
O living God, for thee.
There ev’n the Sparrow freed from wrong
Hath found a house of rest,
The Swallow there, to lay her young
Hath built her brooding nest,
Ev’n by thy Altars Lord of Hoasts
They find their safe abode,
And home they fly from round the Coasts
Toward thee, My King, my God
Happy, who in thy house reside
Where thee they ever praise,
Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide,
And in their hearts thy waies.
They pass through Baca’s thirstie Vale,
That dry and barren ground
As through a fruitfull watry Dale
Where Springs and Showrs abound.
They journey on from strength to strength
With joy and gladsom cheer
Till all before our God at length
In Sion do appear.
Lord God of Hoasts hear now my praier
O Jacobs God give ear,
Thou God our shield look on the face
Of thy anointed dear.
For one day in thy Courts to be
Is better, and mere blest
Then in the joyes of Vanity,
A thousand daies at best.
I in the temple of my God
Had rather keep a dore,
Then dwell in Tents, and rich abode
With Sin for evermore
For God the Lord both Sun and Shield
Gives grace and glory bright,
No good from him shall be with-held
Whose waies are just and right.
Lord God of Hoasts that raign ’st on high,
That man is truly blest
Who only on thee doth relie.
And in thee only rest.
Continue reading...
Adrián Poveda Nov 2018
16 de Agosto
Bus de las 8:00, 8:04. Sol en la ventana, camino de adoquín, irregular, vías trizadas de cotidianidad; luz roja, luz verde, la amarilla no funciona, acelera, quema el neumático, 10, 20, 40, 50 y frena de golpe.

Vista a la ciudad, azul, sin nubes y seca; te incorporas al bajar, la montaña se humedece, también la ciudad. Av. Amazonas, CCI, Av. La Prensa. Abordas das vueltas te sientas, "tome sin compromiso, $1" sino me devuelve, 10, 20, 40, 50 y frena nunca en la parada. "Soy de Ibarra mi hijo en el hospital Baca Ortiz", frena bajas, viejas pisadas.

Haces fila, pagas, otra fila; firme aquí, no puede sonreír. "Espere 20 minutos", te sientas, turno WT64, WT65, WT66. "la niña no puede comer aquí" WT77, WT 78, WT79.  Juan Arboleda, Gustavo Betancourt, José Efrén, Adrián Poveda; revise si está todo bien, firme aquí, sello, sello, queda registrado. Escalera eléctrica, salida, aire no fresco, "le emplástico", "le limpio", caminas, te detienes, ojeas, sueñas. Esperas, Chillogallo - Estadio, Camal - Hipódromo, ¿y el Batán - Colmena? ni modo al Cía. Nacional.

El bus va lento a penas atraviesa la brisa, el sol rebota en el parabrisas, Av. 10 de Agosto, acelera, acelera, frena, en la Av. Versalles el bus es un huracán, y frena, te bajas, tu decencia se queda y en la calle colonial vuelves a soñar, fotografía militar, vuelves a filtrar, 11:23, relojería, confitería parada de bus, fanático religioso, sonidos afro, plaza, museo, buenos días, árbol con hojas de otro árbol. "Pide un deseo y escribelo en un pedazo de papel".

Amor valiente, amor invisible, beso beso, no puedo aterrizar, sala 5, hombre en llamas, síndrome de resignación, refugiados, reflexión, cerveza, amor, amor, $13.60. Carne salteada, ají, limonada, besos, botella extraviada, agua.

Pequeño adiós, Marín, intento de robo,   25 ctvs, gente casas coloridas, montaña, subes, subes, das vueltas, valle azul y verde, baja, frena. Cash, salta se sacude, un torbellino de pelos, en la luz, en mi ropa, un torbellino de amor, pelota, pelota, rock n roll, cable, cable, pedal, camisa blanca, botas negras, peinado a lo morrisey, guitarra, vingala, Blues, Blues, saxo, taxi, maestro, bajo, guitarra, mente extraviada, extraviada, extraviada.
Mi 16 de Agosto 2018 en Quito - Ecuador
#uio #quito #musica #ecuador #espaol
Continue reading...
Ken Pepiton Nov 2018
Whose story? Win or lose? Choose.
This costs you attention you may owe elsewhere. FYI

Thursday, November 01, 2018
9:42 AM

this is our choosing.
we the subjects, the agents of our own intents,

patients, please, await the signal.

Box up your Bohring atoms collected in 7th grade,
wit' yer stamps, n coins n cards n ****
(tha's WA tag, ovahdtoppinallahthishit- -suprimpost)

step out to the fuzzy edge of reality and look

to and fro, go on, imagine the universe a bubble,
along the line of Heisenberg's electron vision
super positioned in that box
with Schrodinger's cat

thus the fuzzy edge, eh?
Close up. neutronic axiomatic close
up
can't say
pre-cise-d-ly ex-zact-ed-ly when
the other  side begins?

Are we aware?
Who won the war?

The game?

No, the war, who won the war?

Why.

Because I need to know, I think, to choose?

Why won. How and what and when and where and all the con
tenders considered,
did not win. They wrote books, but they did not win.

Let me learn a story and my children will hear it right,
from me to them. That's relative-if-it-ication,
there are better ways to say everything,
the story, per se, remains

pro-babble-ity demands equal opportunity with
equal hope of out come,
in valence
in balance (vaca, baca, tomata tomoughta)

Value balance at the fuzzy edge of your own bubble,
your bubble of known knowns (beliefs are in this set),
man on a wire, bird on a wire,

Occham cut my throat, if you fall, trust me, I'll pay.

Choosing Illuminated or Illuminati or mere-r-ly free,
let us pro-ceed,

past conspiracies are now no more than stories being told
as they were told
before the recent war

reconstructed realities arose from the dead on both sides,

whose side is the watcher on?
who accused him. Why, no, how. How accuses the seer,
why ex-amines the seen scene sensuous mystery
field of NULL.

My God. Imagine NULL, my God did that. Can your god
imagine that?

Mebbeso, mebbeeno, gottacogitate, whaithere.

If we agree that we, as in
We have to be a moral people, means:

we, you and me, reader writer sayer hearer or
whatever
concept of us as an inseparable dichotomy with
sum zero field anomaly twixt us
spooky
at a distance, Middler, not Einstein,
last big hit, remember

At a distance,
the edge of everything seems
sharper than any two-edged sword
you ever imagined.
Here,
Higgs-close, where any thing can matter,
at a whim,

Be still.

Still works.
You now new know you knew

right and wrong exist in good,
wrong alone exists in evil, which

In this story, from a winner POV,
is NULL ift, no chance, ever.

To be continued… another line, or two per
haps.
Haps we have made too clear, mortals see right
through them.
While that is good, in balancing things,
we have tremes ex isting in many minds at once,
what's
to be?
Hap, solidifed, happenstance, sistere, give the word.

Done. You recall, it is finished, the alluded to quote,
the bid accepted,
the olde deluder protested,
you recall, who will go?,

I'll go, there was a rhythm in the keys akey aqui a
letter must belong in a word to mean athing, eh?

Waddabou'soun'? say eh letter or more, a vibe

like say aaaaaaah at the doctor looking down my throat,
oughtayasee?

Nuthintall.
Later, ya'll, dream a little dream Ferme

---this did not end there it begsan ah
so
In the beginning all things began,
It's just that simple,

said the side named right by itself, and, odd-at-first-seeming, by
its op positon, but not by down or charm or weird or the un committed
on foreign assign meant un trans late able here

A super positioned time paradox on the part of the mortals involved here.
that explains this.
clear if I see it as you see simple is a poor substitute for sublime,
if I may have said so myselved several times over.

Hello Poetry, this is the signal.
Let patience have her perfect work. The fun'sbegun.
Getting a Christmas feeling. Thinking JOY TO THE WORLD. what would that be like, if it were up to me. We could form a party, may make a thing out of JOY TO THE WORLD ENEMIES DON"T MATTER ANY MORE-- a musing thought, join me.
#christmas #muse #music #joy #world #peace #winlose #goodevil #rightwrong
Continue reading...
Shane Joshua Baca May 2016
Dorothy Madalyn Baca
yes, it was January of 98 on some fateful day when she had her stroke, I can still remember the paramedics rolling her away on the gurney.
the ambulance
the flashing lights
the sirens,
the despair breeze that blew with the wind.
I was 7
she was paralyzed and could no longer speak,
the cigarettes
fried food
bad health
old age had finally caught up with her.
the next 15 years her life would be of silence, no hope.
15 years no walking
15 years no speaking
no adventuring
no writing
no cooking
no story telling
no playing
no fun,
15 years observing
15 years thinking
15 years laying
15 years sitting
15 years waiting
15 years without her
wondering,
why.
January of 2013 the time came, it was at the Pacific Haven Nursing Home on Trask just passing Harbor right across the street from the 22 freeway. That would be the last night I spent with her as she took her last breaths, as I sat and sipped the snuck in beer, I wept. I held her hand and talked to her for a while, apologized for not being there as much as I should have. I expressed my love and appreciation for all she did while she was in my life, promising her we would meet again.
wishing I could hear something back, silence.
kissed her on the cheek
took my last glance
closed the curtains
and left just as she did,
I was 22
sure do miss you. -Shane Book
Continue reading...
Keith J Collard Nov 2
Lake Unabash
Chica Baca laca maca....et cetera,
Where the lady sunfish are gold,
And  are truth tellers,
And the chain pickerals are bold,
And truth be told,
Those chains could not hold,
For Chaca Baca laca maca... whatever,
As Lake Unabash is known,
Was more humble when it was cold.

Baca daca lacka Baca Goo,
In the native or Lake Unabash will do,
The green male sunfish had electric gills,
Like neon lightning went up through,
But now wear a pumpkinseed coat,
So fall color is always new,
And the lady bass jump in the boat,
To tell the skipper where to go.

Shooka booka lacha nooka....
Or just Lake Trudeau,
The old catfish still fly their whiskers,
But only at night in bubble whispers,
For all the show is during day,
When a mother musky eats a duckling on its way,
Then to a fisherman turns to say,
I am a truth teller,
And you men have had your time!

Chaka ooka alla moola,
Or just Lake ****** truth be told,
Was more humble when it was cold,
Now the water recedes the lake,
And with summer lasting later,
"Hey how ya doing" from a stranger,"
And now new to Lake Annoy,
The alligator fills the void.
Continue reading...
Nabiila Marwaa Nov 2020
Berikan Aku Kesempatan Mengusir Lelahmu
“puisi itu hanya enak untuk ditulis, bukan dibaca”

“hah, egois sekali, terus siapa yang mau baca semua puisi yang sudah kamu tulis?”

“bukan begitu, maksudku puisi itu kan ungkapan hati penulisnya, dan ketika kita membaca puisi, kita harus selalu menebak nebak apa arti dan makna sebenar benarnya dari puisi yang kita baca. melelahkan”

“lalu apa bedanya dengan hidup? inti dari hidup juga mencari makna sebenar benarnya kan?”

“memang tidak ada bedanya, sama sama melelahkan”
Percakapan di sepanjang Jalan Matraman yang membuatku tidak pernah membaca puisi apapun dengan cara yang sama lagi
Continue reading...
lessache May 2020
takut.
takut, takut banget.
takut enggak bisa liat mereka pisah bahkan kalau emang udah waktunya.
mau nikmatin masa-masa sekarang untuk jatuh lebih dalam lagi, tapi aku punya masa depan yang penting. nyesel baru tau mereka tahun 2018. kata orang-orang "enggak penting siapa yang ada dari awal, karena yang bertahan sampai akhir itu hebat" tapi aku juga takut, takut enggak akan bertahan sampai akhir, sampai mereka pilih jalannya masing-masing. I'm scared of leaving, farewell, it hurts. mereka bikin aku seneng, ketawa, hal-hal kecil yang mereka lakuin bisa bikin jutaan orang bahagia, they've save so many lives. mau coba lupain pelan-pelan dan bodoamatan kalo ada berita tentang mereka juga gak mungkin. gak akan pernah bisa karena ya mungkin kayak gini once in a lifetime. susah banget emang kalo udah sesayang ini sama orang, walaupun orang itu gak tau kita gimana, tapi semacam ada tali yang nyatuin perasaan satu orang ke orang lainnya, ah lebay kamu. tapi bener loh! aku ngerasa banget, mungkin aku yang udah dewasa nanti baca ini bakalan "apaan sih kok lebay, alay banget" hehehe maaf ya far. soalnya gak tau lagi mau cerita ke siapa, temen? gak ngertiin, internet friends? banyaaaaaaaak yang satu frekuensi, tapi aku gak bisa cerita ke mereka. satu-satunya ya ini. kalo mungkin nanti aku baca ini lagi entah 2025, 2030, atau bahkan 2050, inget ya kamu pernah sayaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang banget sama 7 orang yang jauh disana, yang setiap hari isi hari-hari kamu, jangan coba lupain deh!!! kalo bisa cari tau kabar mereka!!!!!
this is for 7 brightest stars in my life <3
Continue reading...
Saša D Lović Apr 2015
scena
žustri su me žmarci
obavili
strujim sa njima
i ne znam
dal da se smejem
senci
koju baca moje
zgrčeno telo
u redu za nestajanje
ili
pamteći samo radosne dane
zaplačem nad ovom
scenom
Continue reading...
Juan Gelman
Carta
te escribo en una hojita de papel
caída del cuaderno del hijo
con una baca un burro
sumas restas

esta carta que enviaré jamás
tiene delicias y tristezas
y cuando la leías
te ponías muy dulce

porque yo no escribía nada
pero cantaban los pájaros
azules de la izquierda

volaban a tu sombra y callaban
con los ojos abiertos
como memorias en la noche
Continue reading...
lessache Jan 2021
Untitled
Nanti,
siapa yang bisa aku ajak ngomongin makanan?
Siapa yang bisa aku kirim gambar lucu?
Siapa yang bisa kasih aku kata-kata "Good luck far!" yang mungkin beberapa orang anggap sepele, tapi aku berasa jadi paling bahagia sedunia waktu baca itu.
Sekarang aku takut, takut banget. Takut tiba-tiba disaat aku butuh kata-kata itu, kamu pergi.
Continue reading...
Alvian Eleven Dec 9
NORMAL LAMA SEBELUM 07 OKTOBER
Sebelum 07 Oktober adalah normal lama.
Orang orang Gaza masih punya kehidupan.
Kehidupan yang telah menjadi masa lalu.
Masa lalu yang hanya bisa dikenang.

Hassan selalu senang tiap jumat siang.
Setelah shalat jumat dia bisa makan enak bersama keluarganya.
Lalu bersantai di tepi pantai hingga sore.
Itulah normal lama Hassan.

Tiap hari Asmaa bersemangat mengajar.
Pelajaran bahasa Arab untuk sekolah dasar.
Murid muridnya selalu berisik di dalam kelas.
Itulah normal lama Asmaa.

Samara selalu merayakan ulang tahun anaknya.
Dia membuat kue **** dan memasang hiasan lucu.
Boneka besar menjadi hadiah untuk anaknya.
Itulah normal lama Samara.

Tiap sore Mai selalu menyetir mobilnya.
Pelan pelan melewati jalan Al Rashid yang ramai.
Sambil melihat lihat suasana tepi pantai.
Itulah normal lama Mai.

Mustafa sibuk bekerja siang malam.
Mengumpulkan uang untuk membayar dowri.
Agar dia bisa secepatnya mengawini gadis pujaannya.
Itulah normal lama Mustafa.

Fadi selalu begadang tiap malam.
Saat listrik menyala dia sibuk melakukan banyak hal.
Mengecas laptop , mengetik makalah , mencuci baju dan lainnya.
Itulah normal lama Fadi.

Tiap hari Mariam selalu sibuk.
Pagi hingga sore dia berada di kantor.
Bekerja mengurusi periklanan dan digital marketing.
Itulah normal lama Mariam.

Heba selalu senang belanja di pasar.
Dia membeli daging , sayuran , buah buahan dan bumbu masakan.
Saat tiba di rumah dia langsung bersemangat memasak.
Itulah normal lama Heba.

Saat pagi Yousef sering pergi ke dermaga.
Dia melihat laut sambil menghirup udara segar.
Lalu membeli banyak ikan yang baru ditangkap nelayan.
Itulah normal lama Yousef.

Mohammed bertubuh kekar.
Tiap sore dia rutin pergi ke gym atau latihan tinju.
Terus berolahraga menjaga kebugaran tubuh.
Itulah normal lama Mohammed.

Lulus kuliah Abdullah masih menganggur.
Dia sering berhutang apapun di toko tetangganya.
Saat ditagih seperti biasa dia selalu menghilang.
Itulah normal lama Abdullah.

Keluarga Ali punya kebun olive.
Tiap musim panen dia selalu senang memetik olive.
Sambil makan manakeesh dan zaatar bersama keluarganya.
Itulah normal lama Ali.

Tiap malam Tareq sibuk belajar.
Dia ingin mendapat nilai tinggi saat ujian tawjihi.
Agar keluarganya merasa bangga padanya.
Itulah normal lama Tareq.

Ayahnya Omar bekerja di bengkel.
Dia sering memasang tabung gas untuk mobil.
Sopir sopir taksi tidak perlu membeli bensin.
Itulah normal lama ayahnya Omar.

Tiap menerima gaji Khaled merasa senang.
Dia selalu mengajak keluarganya makan enak.
Menyantap berbagai hidangan sea food di restoran Abu Hasira.
Itulah normal lama Khaled.

Wajah Eman selalu tampak cantik.
Dia rutin pergi ke salon melakukan perawatan.
Produk produk kecantikan juga dia beli semua.
Itulah normal lama Eman.

Ketika musim dingin Aya selalu senang.
Dia menghabiskan waktu membaca koleksi novelnya.
Sambil makan burger dan mereguk hangatnya sahlab.
Itulah normal lama Aya.

Tiap hari Walid selalu keliling Elsaraya.
Dia menyopir taksi mencari cari penumpang.
Sementara anak anak jalanan menjual tissue dan biskuit.
Itulah normal lama Walid.

Saat ada orang menikah Nassar selalu diundang.
Dia menjadi fotografer untuk memotret pengantin.
Pernikahan meriah di hotel dan resort tepi pantai.
Itulah normal lama Nassar.

Saat ramadhan toko Fatema selalu ramai.
Orang orang datang membeli berbagai kue buatannya.
Kaak , qatayef , baklava , kunafa dan lainnya.
Itulah normal lama Fatema.

Ketika hujan deras malam hari.
Kakeknya Ashraf selalu mendengarkan radio.
Menunggu lagu lagu Fairuz diputar sambil menghisap hookah.
Itulah normal lama kakeknya Ashraf.

Saat pertandingan El Classico.
Khalil dan teman temannya selalu pergi ke kafe.
Nonton bersama sambil bersorak sorak.
Itulah normal lama Khalil.

Huda kuliah literatur Inggris di Universitas Al Azhar.
Dia senang menghabiskan waktu di kampus.
Nongkrong di kantin atau baca buku di perpustakaan.
Itulah normal lama Huda.

Ketika musim panas Kareem tidak betah di rumah.
Dia sering nongkrong bersama teman temannya di tepi pantai.
Sambil makan jagung , kacang dan minum barrad.
Itulah normal lama Kareem.

Generator di rumah Shayma sering mati.
Biasanya dia keluar membawa laptop nongkrong di kafe.
Mereguk hangatnya mocca sambil mengunduh film dan anime.
Itulah normal lama Shayma.

Ayahnya Lubna punya kebun buah buahan.
Stroberi , jeruk , lemon , semangka dan kurma.
Tiap hari kebun itu selalu diurus secara telaten.
Itulah normal lama ayahnya Lubna.

Malak sering ikut kegiatan.
Pemberdayaan dan kreatifitas anak muda.
Dia belajar coding dan konten multimedia.
Itulah normal lama Malak.

Setelah lulus kuliah Zaina sulit mendapat pekerjaan.
Dia membuka kios kecil yang menjual falalel.
Orang orang selalu datang membeli falafel buatannya.
Itulah normal lama Zaina.

Dima punya banyak koleksi novel.
Dia sering membeli berbagai novel di toko Samir Mansour.
Lalu dia membacanya sambil berbaring di kasur.
Itulah normal lama Dima.

Tiap pulang sekolah anak anaknya Hussein selalu senang.
Mereka dibelikan Playstation agar bisa bermain game.
Ada balapan , pertarungan dan petualangan.
Itulah normal lama anak anaknya Hussein.

Tiap hari Reem selalu enerjik.
Dia menjadi instruktur fitness dan aerobik.
Tak mengherankan kalau tubuhnya tampak langsing dan kencang.
Itulah normal lama Reem.

Masa akhir kuliah Amal sibuk belajar.
Dia ingin segera lulus dengan nilai yang bagus.
Mendapat beasiswa kuliah ke Eropa adalah impiannya.
Itulah normal lama Amal.

Menjadi ahli bedah adalah pekerjaan Dr Ghassan.
Selama puluhan tahun dia menjadi dokter di rumah sakit Al Quds.
Walaupun gajinya tak seberapa tapi dia selalu semangat bekerja.
Itulah normal lama Dr Ghassan.

Ahmed dan keluarganya baru saja pindah ke apartemen.
Apartemen berfasilitas lengkap yang dibangun di tepi pantai.
Kehidupan terasa nyaman tanpa mengalami masalah apapun.
Itulah normal lama Ahmed.

Setelah lulus kuliah medis Aboud langsung bekerja di rumah sakit Al Shifa.
Dia senang bekerja dengan rekan rekannya yang penuh semangat.
Menyembuhkan orang orang dengan berbagai keluhan penyakit.
Itulah normal lama Aboud.

Kehidupan Mahmoud benar benar bahagia.
Dia tinggal di apartemen mewah bersama keluarganya.
Berbagai bisnis yang dia punya terus menerus untung besar.
Itulah normal lama Mahmoud.

Tiap hari Sham senang menghabiskan waktu di rumah.
Berkumpul bersama keluarganya menikmati kebersamaan yang menyenangkan.
Baginya keluarga adalah segalanya.
Itulah normal lama Sham.

Sondos kuliah hukum di Universitas Al Azhar.
Dia mempelajari hukum internasional dan hak asasi manusia.
Dia ingin Palestina yang terjajah mendapatkan keadilan.
Itulah normal lama Sondos.

Melukis adalah hobi Bayan dan Layan.
Mereka paling senang melukis langit seperti lukisan Van Gogh.
Bagi mereka langit menyimpan segala misteri yang tak diketahui manusia.
Itulah normal lama Bayan dan Layan.

Normal lama berakhir setelah 07 Oktober.
Orang orang Gaza tidak lagi punya kehidupan.
Hanya ada masa kini yang menyakitkan.
Dan masa depan yang terancam.


November 2024

By Alvian Eleven
#gaza #palestine #indonesia
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