Kabalo ba mo nga ang love, pag-ibig,
gugma o unsa bay tawag ninyo ana
kay muabot ra nag iyaha?
Di lang jud nuon magsaba
kay wa man gud siyay baba.

Bitaw, unsa man jud tuod diay ng
TRUE LOVE?
O basin THROWN LOVE na ha?

Ana man gud na oh,
sakto na unta!
Siya na unta!
Eh, shunga-shunga man gud ka,
gibuy-an pa jud nimo siya.

Dayon magdangoyngoy ra ba,
maghinuktok ug muingon nga
"Sayang kaayo!"
Apan wa na jud kay mabuhat pa
para ibalik inyong napakyas nga
LOVE STORY.

Sumo biya usahay paminawon
inyong mga pagmahay!
Wa lang jud mi mabuhat
kay bespren biya mi ninyo!

Sige na lang dayon ug hilaka
ug kadugayan PEANUT BITTER na,
hay naku!

Busa, mao ni akong advice sa inyo...

Ana man gud sila nga...

Ang gugma daw mura ra nag itlog...

Basta hugot ra kaayo ang paggunit,
mabuak...

Apan basta luag ra pud,
mahulog ra ug mabuak japun...
busa kanang sakto ra jud...

Unya ako?
Kay danghag man jud kaayo,
busa naa ra ko diri karun
nagsubo ug nag-inusara...

Busa sa di pa mahuman ni akong balak,
naa lang unta koy ipangutana...




Gusto ba ninyo gunitan ang akong itlog?

Sa imo ra nipitik ning akong dughan
Buntag, udto, ug gabieng tanan
Na bisan ug namalandong ko sa makadaghan
Dinasaysay gihapon niini ang imong ngalan.

Sa imo ra nitotok ang akong mga mata
Sa matag pilok niini, imong nawong ang makita.
Ug bisan paman ug motan-aw ko sa ubang dalaga
Ikaw raman jud akong makit-an na gwapa.

Sa imo ra nilupad ang akong hunahuna
Nagahandom na makauban ka sa matag takna
Nahigam ko, lisod jud ning mahigugma
Magpanikad sa adlaw na makaanha ko sa imoha

Ug sa imo ra iukit ang akong ugma
Hugot sa pagtoo na dili ko sa imo mawala
Ubanan teka sa kasakit, hilak, ug pagmaya
Hangtod kitang duha husgahan na niining kalibotana.

Sa imo ra.

(This can be sung to the tune of the old ballad "Sweet Betsy from Pike.")

Every day it seems there's a new story to tell.
Trump and his cronies aren't doing very well.
They've lied to cover up what we all know
Is truly an instance of Trump's quid pro quo.

At first they said, "Oh, no, that's what it can't be.
If you look closely, then you all will see
That what Trump had said in his telephone chat
Was certainly not quid pro quo, *** for tat."

Sing too-ra-lie-oo-ra-lie-oo-ra-lie-ay!

The info we gather from witnesses lends
Credence to how Giuliani and friends
Went to Ukraine to push forth their plan.
Rudy's Trump's fixer--his new handyman.

If asked to conspire and if you resist
Helping the president, you'll be dismissed.
The stories we're hearing now help to explain
All that occurred overseas in Ukraine.

Sing too-ra-lie-oo-ra-lie-oo-ra-lie-ay!

Republican stories then started to change.
Of course, we are used to that; that's not so strange.
First, they cried, "False accusation! A slur!"
Now they're saying, yes, quid pro quo did occur.

But that's not a problem, Republicans say.
Whatever Trump did, well, that is okay.
Everyone's making a hullabaloo
Over something that clearly all presidents do.

Sing too-ra-lie-oo-ra-lie-oo-ra-lie-ay!

Yes, presidents bargain and presidents deal,
And when it occurs it's for our commonweal.
But when his political gain is the goal,
Abusing his power is out of control.

Their strategy now is for them to attack
Witnesses fiercely and not to hold back.
Let us all hope that one day they'll eat crow
For trying to justify Trump's quid pro quo.

Sing too-ra-lie-oo-ra-lie-oo-ra-lie-ay!

-by Bob B (11-6-19)

Nakahinumdom ko,
sa una man gyud to
nga kitang duha nagakadungan pa ug baklay
padulong ngadto sa usa ka balay.
Naggunitay sa atong mga kamot
ug ming-ingon nga di gayud
boy-an ang usa’g usa.
Kuntito naman ko, ug gasalig ko
nga ikaw kanunay naa sa akong tapad.
Apan minglabay ang mga oras ug bulan,
paglingi ko usab sa akong kiliran
ikaw napanaw lang ug kalit
ug wa na ko kabawo asa ko ikaw makit-an.
Mingsulay ko ug tagad kay gihuna-huna ko
basin ikaw akong nabiyaan,
paspas biya ko mulakaw ug langay kay ka.
Apan wa man, sa pila na ka adlaw
nakong huwat-huwat, wa gihapon ka,
asa man diay tuod ka?
Ikaw man gud, langay kay ka.
Ug gapadayon na lang ko ug baklay,
pero hinay-hinay lang, para ikaw unta makaapas ra.

Sa paglakaw-lakaw nako,
Nakatagbo ko ug usa ka tawo,
ug mingsulay ko ug pangutana bahin sa imo,
basin ba, ikaw nakalabay na ug nakit-an ka niya.
Grabe, asa man diay tuod ka?
Ikaw man gud, langay kay ka.
Minglabay ang pila ka mga tuig, didto nako nakahuna-huna
basin ako diay gyud ang langay ba,
ug wa nako kaapas sa imoha.
Busa minglakaw napud ko ug paspas kaayo
para ikaw akong maapsan,
dasig lang, magkita ra lagi siguro tang duha.
Apan, ako tawo ra pud biya,
kapuyon ug uhawon pud ug inapas sa imo,
layo na kaya siguro ka ug naabtan.
Asa man diay tuod ka?
Ikaw man gud, gadali ra pud kay ka.
Ug sa dihang nakahapit na hinuon ko
ug laing balay para mupahuway, ug muinom ug tubig,
kapoy biya pud ug pangita nimo sa pila na ka tuig,
siguro, langay lang gyud diay ko,
kay katong tawo nga akong napangutan-an, dugay ko mituo,
nga ikaw pud diay nagtagad kanako,
nga ana pud ka, nga langay ra kaayo ko.
Magkita ra lagi siguro tang duha, hinaot puhon.

Can you imagine a thing more bizarre?
Strange things can happen but this is by far
One of the craziest stories I've heard.
Call it outrageous, for that's a good word.

The end times are coming and we're on the brink.
That's what some white evangelicals think.
The one who'll be leading us over this ****
Will be none other than Donald J. Trump.

Sing too-ra-lie-loo-ra-lie-loo-ra-lie-ay.

This crazy idea explains to us why
So many people believe Trump's Big Lie.
His challenge, they feel, is not just a whim:
That the election was stolen from him.

Other groups out there have joined in the cause
And bow and kowtow to their Wizard of Oz.
Even the Moonies have entered the fray.
How easy it is to lead people astray!

Sing too-ra-lie-loo-ra-lie-loo-ra-lie-ay.

Part of their big propaganda machine
Is rhetoric very much anti-vaccine.
Some of the leaders are sounding alarms
To talk devotees into taking up arms.

Conspiracy theories continue to weave
Through the ideas that these folks believe.
Yes, they remind us that we have free will;
But far-fetched ideas lead people to ****.

Sing too-ra-lie-loo-ra-lie-loo-ra-lie-ay.

Some politicians will hold up a gun
And say to us that church and state should be one.
I guess in their readings there's something they missed:
Our Constitution was not on their list.

Maybe the end of the world it won't be,
But what is going on gives no comfort to me.
Democracy's fragile; there is no doubt.
And we can't let radical groups wipe it out.

Sing too-ra-lie-loo-ra-lie-loo-ra-lie-ay.

-by Bob B (10-7-21)

°This poem can be sung to the melody of "Sweet Betsy from Pike."

There’s a Devil of a night each year, the night of Mr. Haim!
When the devilish and ghoulie ones come out to play their monster’s game.
And why some would seek to trick or treat on this scary day of dead?
Careful now cause gremlins, trolls …sprites and wolves, will offer up their dread!
Quiet, shush, I hear a pack of creepy-crawly boots…

Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo!
And the skeleton bones, clink…
And the skeleton bones, clink…
The skeleton bones clink.

That crafty-smith of horns and hooves is spying on these kiddies,
As Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo are hunting strays to do their dastardly-ditties.
Quiet, shush, I hear a pack of creepy-crawly boots,
And their costumes, oh-so-foul, the evilest of suits!
And there she is, that little girl who can’t keep up, in a tasty mushroom ensemble.
And the skeleton bones clink in her path to give her quite a tomble!

Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo!
And the skeleton bones, clink…
And the skeleton bones, clink…
The skeleton bones clink.

And Sammy Haim, that smithy-devil, a ***** hoof -igniting ghoul’s desire,
He’s howling out, demanding now, “Put that child to the fire!”
And little does he know, no little bit, not even a small clue,
Neither Ra’atan-Zu nor Boogedy-Boo intend on giving him his due!
For once a year on Halloween they get one night to spaz,
Get down and *****, wild and crazy and play a little jazz!
That little mushroom of a girl will play a tiny fiddle,
Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo, a jazzy duet with child in middle!'

Ra’atan-Zu, Boogedy-Boo and a little girl too as they get down actin’ a spaz! Playin’ all night, howling to the moon and kickin’ out some wicked jazz!

And the skeleton bones, clink…
And the skeleton bones, clink…
  The skeleton bones clink.

twisted mind, finger twisted,
twisted trigger
@ Killeen
& Camden

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

twisted mind, finger twisted,
twisted trigger
@ San Diego
& Aurora

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

twisted mind, finger twisted,
twisted trigger
@ Fairchild
& Fort Hood

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

twisted mind, finger twisted,
twisted trigger
@ Columbine
& V. Tech

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

twisted mind, finger twisted,
twisted trigger
@ Pearl
& Paducah

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

twisted mind, finger twisted,
twisted trigger
@ Newtown
& Santa Barbara

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

twisted minds, fingers twisted,
twisted triggers
@???
&???

broken system

broken lives
        
straight bullets

RA-TA-TAT-TAT...

~ P
#Twisted
(5/30/2014)

Oh but if Abraham father tri-covenant be
Zarathustra grandpa be uh ha Persia ******
hummm...deeply restructuring muchly rooted
of the far reaches and you a free to detail it fill it in
ridicule I'm no scholar not foot noting all detail here now
but of what Hinduism much come from be ya Krishna just so
seems so one like JC to me sure enough differing mission all together be
but here we are and I was talkin 'bout tri-Abrahamic and Grandpa then ******
Remember Moses how 'bout Joseph and sold into slavery; rainbow dreamer in life giving
colours yet till fully fulled out till fully white all over hmmmm....anywho way through Egypt the way;
picked up a few nifty tricks along this way; a little further down Sa Sa Ra town this wall as it is I did mention the roots of the ancients of Afu Ra Ka and the Kemetic's rooted of the Pharaohs there; The book of the Dead hmmmm.... remember where Joseph step-dad of Jesus and Mary and Baby J had fled; I've skipped a few steps but twasn't till Moses started with the books and recorded on pages though too they all could all recite the Torah so too well also; there were some mix ups and a lot of humanness they were not shy about admittance or of recordence of this; let me hit a few punch lines some we know and some um well idk likely not, others may seem strange so, well I will carry some load; some 'wild' Arabs were cut of from 'the promise and or the inheritance' this we all know to well and yet tho when Shaman Master J was a bit dejected by much authority of his own homeland (or more accurately by his Hebrew lineage)  he did say clear his love and message was for Gentiles too should have been inclusive of Arabs then however Rome kinda well we all too know how they needed to politicize that power and dogma and power and love askew ERGO MUHAMMAD!!!! Here is where I need the most help too!!! But I RA NI that's truly me my heart is there with all seven billion be!! I am about good news being good!!! That great big Architect Guy speaks with me; so whatever they say has to be for it is WRITTEN and is plan A no not by me here that way; moving it to plan b or xyz I don't really care; I've read enuf I see and hear differing things than any they about this stuff...J spoke the essence of The Book of the Dead for the Living; the silk road, the salt and gold and such treasure; what ya kidden me what the real **** going down that road was priceless wisdom being conveniently collected collated and studied; thee Essenes by the hmmm 'Dead' Sea in the desert what a ploy huh...raised in a vacuum how 'bout of all available assistance of all time and hearts and loving hands and care; plenty well mentioned lore and mention-able stories of how he got around to all the best mystery schools and pulled nifty loving care wherever he went and by a few other names in other locales; well when a kingdom falls you must blaspheme the beforehand Gods and false worship there so the holy ones who knew it's real worth and understood whom really did the blaspheming and cursing took it all underground worth more than a body and many bodies paid the price to save the surely hard earned...how 'bout OZ say WHAT ; now what this guy on he must do drugs to get this way and surely now but um nah sorry I'd love if I could but say I'm straight at least as wood and yes for a while my trade Ron the carpenter and you'd be surprised what she can tell ya about what seems and what is really straight and how humans as elements go are most like this hahaha and ya I wondered about hiding in plain sight until I figged what I'd do till I got over that **** messiah complex thang that I knew we've been through before and that twasn't going to be the or my thing and I did know too much 'bout heaven so I did need that roll through holy hell ya and Buddha named his son Ball and Chain my number one is 29.5 and it's time to introduce myself!!!;  but she-it say what ya want let me go on when Frank L Baum writer of OZ had a tale to tell; he one happened to be a Theosophist, look up if ya like need I am the type that still breathes ya and he was a bit onto a little about the gold and the big banker thang but that was more cover and decided to encrypt it (a deeper true message) for a more clever way to say and where it could and would grow well deep safely as a children's tale; into the collective consciousness; and he denied for most his life anything 'bout what what OZ really was but in the end, I don't have it here now and  maybe I'll dig it up  lata, but it was not hard for me to decipher, I'm many codes inside out and running backwards myself but it was a dig on Zarathustra or oft more better well known by the Greek as Zoroaster for turning creative and destructive forces into a war in heaven of good and evil and there their's just ain't no concept all the way down to Christianity that ain't got it's roots from there their's as much as JC did try to set things straight and say it is done and indeed it is and indeed we are the ones he one Masterful Initiator and when we do as he suggested then the Hebrew will say it's finally Messiah for all things indeed change with and about us; say again abc 123 not required; If I had a heart mind and brain like the Heart of God and Mind of Christ would I doubt once or think twice and rather be off to see the wizard or priest or pope; when truly only straight within you direct connect you your own wizardry connective-ness to all creation loving click click home home bad dream hypnotic spell be gone; but what about courage once you are realized, you do not doubt once or think twice with the true heart of 'God' and 'Mind Of Christ' and you just do and run into rather than from un hum see; but again not to far away from losing your life (re: the reality of and for Baum at the time) for telling such loving truths to Gods dear children; but here we are and here I am I Ra Ni and we are FREE!!
SO ON WITH ONE AND OFF WITH THEE OTHER FINALLY DISCOVER A WORLD WITH THE TRUTH ABOUT ONE AND EACH OF ONE ANOTHER!!!

Sa akong paglatagaw daw akong kinabuhi wala pa natagbaw.
Nikamang, ninglangoy, nilupad ug nalakaw lakaw.
Aron tagamtamon ang katam-is sa gugma na akong gihanduraw.
Asa naman ka? Naara ko dali ayaw kaulaw.

Ningkuha ug kusog sa uban, nag too na dili sila mobiya.
Nangandoy sama nako na dili na meng duha moluha.
Naghinigugmaay, ug nagpasalig na mogunit sa matag takna.
Apan asa naman, wala na, nibiya na ug kalit ra na nawala.

Giloom ang kasakit niining dughan, kiagwanta ug gidawat ang tanan.
Na sa gugma wala koy swerte, malas maoy ingon sa uban.
Natingala, nangutana, na sa kadaghan sa tao niining kalibutan, nganong ako paman?

Naa ra man diay ka. Nagpaabot ba ka? O gihatag ka sa Ginoo para sa akoa?
Ginahandom na makit.an nako ang tinood na pasabot sa gugma.
Ginaampo, ug ako kanimo nagahangyo na akong paglantaw kanimo palihog dawata.
Tagaan unta ko nimog higayon na magkauban pa tang duha.

Friends, you may recall the famous song by ‘Bonny M’ during late1970s, about the infamous RASPUTIN, advisor of the last Russian Emperor Nicholas-II, and lover of the Russian Queen, who was assassinated on 30th December, 1916: ‘’Ra, Ra Rasputin/Lover of the Russian Queen… Russia’s greatest love machine/ It was a shame how he carried on!..’’ Now once again he is reborn as VLADIMIR  PUTIN, driving the World to the brink of a Third World War, and is likely to meet a similar fate, unless his cancer overtakes!  This is a parody of that lyric I recently composed.  – Raj Nandy, 07 May, 2022, New Delhi.

+RUSSIAN RASPUTIN REBORN AS
           VLADIMIR  PUTIN+
Ra, Ra, Vladimir Putin, with all his
land-grabbing war machines,
With ravenous hunger to swallow
neighboring Countries,
It is really shameful how he carries
on!
Oblivious to human suffering and
pain,
He has brought the World on the
brink of another World War once
again!

Putin became the Russian President
since 2012 as we get to see,
Became a virtual dictator of his country!
Divorced in Two Thousand and Fourteen,
Lives as a frustrated bachelor in Russia
ever since.
People look at him with terror and
dismay as he is full of aggression and
fire!
But to his henchmen and young Russian
maids he is such a lovely dear!
Ra, Ra, Vladimir Putin with his nuclear
bombs and war machines,
It is utterly shameful how he carries on!

He changed his personal guards many a
time afraid of assassination!
Sacrificed his senior generals and
countless soldiers in his ceaseless war
of aggression,
To glorify his personal ambition!
Now to save Ukraine and the World,
May the Devil soon come to claim its
very own.     {See  photo)

Ra, Ra, Vladimir Putin, with his many war
machines,
It is utterly shameful how he carries on!
Oh! Those Ruthless Russians!
…………………………………………………………………………..

What a year was 570 AD
A person was born, a prophet to be
Muhammed (saws) that was his name
People were misguided and thats when he came
He would go on to leave all the idols behind
He is an example to all of mankind

Rabbi al Awwal the 12th, that was the day
He came to this world to show us the way
He was born in Mecca, the holiest place
A life full of challenges he was to face
Abdullah (ra) his father, had by then passed away
Leaving Amina (ra) his mother, in her arms he lay

Haalima Sadia, took over his care
Until he was six, our prophet was there
His mother then died, he was left all alone
Abdul Muttalib (ra) his grand-dad then made him his own
When our prophet was nine, his grandfather died
Abu Talib, his uncle, became his new guide

In his 20's, a merchant Muhammed (saws) became by trade
Al-Amin, (the trustworthy) became his grade
Hazrat Khadija (ra) aged 40, became his bride
He was 25, with her by his side
To the poor,she gave away all her wealth
A dedicated wife in sickness and health

360 idols in the Kaaba, they were at that time
Our prophet realised that this was a crime
He would go to mount Hira,leaving behind his wife
Reflecting and wondering about the meaning of life

While thinking there in the midst of the night
He heard a loud voice which filled him with fright
It was the angel Gibrail(as) who asked him to read
Our prophet couldn't and didnt take heed
The angel embraced him and then asked him later
Read, Read in the name of the Creator
Who created man from a drop of blood

Our prophet couldn't read but at that time he could
Our prophet rushed to the path straight ahead
He heard a voice from the heavens which said
Muhammed (saws) truly you are the messenger of God
Muhammed (saws) was scared and thought this quite odd
'Praise be to God' his wife said instead
''I know you've been chosen as God's messenger' she said
And thus Khadija (ra) became the first woman of islam

And over the next 23 years came the revelation, the Quran
He preached to all people, every creed every race
Yet so many hardships he had to face
There were fears for his life, then the Hijrat took place
He then entered Medina, all by Allah's grace
He was greeted by the Ansaris who gave their salaam
To him and his companians,the Sahaba ikram

Then came the battles, which were fought face to face
Then the conquest of Mecca, Muhammed (saws)'s birthplace
An Nasr was revealed, it's message was clear
Muhammed (saws) knew that his time was near
Everyone gathered to hear his last speech
little did they know how far Allah's message would reach

Muhammed (saws) gave us the miracle the Quran
And now a 1/4 of the world follow Islam
He is our role-model, the best of mankind
And has left the Quran and his Sunnah behind

Read the Quran as much as you can
The words of Allah (swt) for the guidance of man
And follow our prophet's sunnah, when eating and dressing
And send him salutations and many a blessing
He came to mankind to show us the way
And Insha-Allah, we'll meet him, we'll meet him one day

DECEMBER DAFFODILS

******* blossom
on the dancing washing line
December daffodils

her blouse
wearing only weather
blooms bustily

all her clothes
mimic the body
that has worn them

"Come...dancing!" hollers the wind
"HeeeehAWWWW!' shout the clothes
line dancing

an infatuated ra-ra skirt
jumps off line
goes solo

ra-ra skirt elopes with wind
over the wall it goes
scaring the cat

******* cling on
for dear life
oooOOOPS...they're down

a bouquet of *******
scatter over lavender bushes
daffodils dancing

now the wind falls
asleep
the clothes ashamed of themselves

a pink *******
perched rudely
upon the rue

I go gather 'em up
the ******* blush
at their misbehaviours

the ra-ra skirt
knows the game is up
comes quietly

only the daffs surprised
to find themselves here at all
giving themselves airs and graces

daffs yell in yellow
bow their lovely heads
pray to whatever God made them

"Dear Lord..." they passionately pray
"Thank you for giving us
this delightful December!"

Siya ra gyuy nasayod
sa kanunayong pagpuga sa luha
sa iyang mga mata
nga ming bisbis sa iyang
bug-at nga unlan

Siya ra gyuy nasayod
Sa kabugal-bugalon sa iyang huna-huna
mga storya nga gubot ra
sa iyang alimpatakan

Suod niya ang kadaghanan
Alegre ang palibot ug naa siya
Makatakod ang iyang ka hapsay

Apan luyo sa katim-os sa iyang mga pahiyom
Adunay kahuyang, adunay kahadlok
apan siya ray nasayod

Igo nalang ako sa pagpamalandong
Apan ngano ako musulay pa ug salom sa iyang mga hinyap?
Ngano ug samukon ko pa usab akong kaugalingon?
Kung mao ang iya, iya gayud
Kung ang ako, ako gayud

Ug di niya ipa-ambit kanako
ang iyang kasakit,
dawaton ko nalang ang kahadlok nga nahimugso
sa iyang panit

Hahay...
anaa lagi koy dakong balay
apan wala gayud tawoy
bisan jutay'ng kalipay,
walay oras nga dili
maglantugi
hiniktan ang kalinaw
ug dili gayud makaipsot
sa adto nga pisi

dako lagi ug balay
apan wala gayud gugma
dako nga balay
apan ang kagubot
dili gayud
mahilona,
daghan lagi nga k'warta
nga natagamtaman
ning mga kamot
apan pubri ra gihapon
magasige lang sa mug-ot
daghan lagi ug suga
nga makit-an
apan kung tarungon
ug lantaw
ngit-ngit pa sa alkitran

maypag wala nalay
dakong balay
kung ing-ani man galing
maypag wala nalang
kung mao ra kini ang
makasamad sa akong
kasing-kasing.

Mr Snodgrass was an unrepentant  man,
he wanted  nothing more than a house mouse.
He laugh at her trainers,
telling they subliminally showed
she was uncreative.
He doesn't need twine
he plans to be provocative.
After intentionally brushing her cheek in the dark
she lower her head
and seem to take on his burdens.
She dye her hair sun red,
and wear a Ra Ra skirt to please.
Bare footed taking a few strides outside
to instinctively repair the mesh for the chickens

Ya wonda why I'm filled with so much passion and rage/
But that's what happ'n when ya lessen a man to a cage/
I haven't even unleashed the darkness/
Imagine a soul that's cold 'n' heartless/
Crowley is weak compared to the I beast/
Within me, 'n He I now release/
It in I and we have begun to feast/
Spit it out/
Shut ya impudent mouth n listen/
Time ta quit ya ******' insolent dissin'/
Check me out I'm hookless/
Reckless/
You follow the text n I'm bookless/
Check this/
Determination look me in my Eyes/
Ya gunna stay in tha gutta, ***** *****, just to watch me rise/
RA!/
I am incomparable/
Can't match  me, I'm too lyrical/
I am a spastic assassin/
Breath deep/
I am the heir, with anthrax-in/
How I see it, You nuttin' but fails/
You in a row boat *****, n my ***** got sails/
Ya call me crazy/
Ya vision is hazy/
And ya thinkin is lazy/
What I know would make ya a sage see/
I'm filled with these higher optics/
Shouldn't need a telescope ta spot this/
But you do/
What, Hoss is up, Livin life in love/
'N neva givin' a ****/
Crowned/
I Come here to shut ya ta hell down/
------------Chorus-----------
Duranged/
It's Dark n Strange/
Quit ya askin', 'What am I?'/
Darkness Fire burnin' opaque, I neva Die/
Strange Set by Ra, Look to tha Sky/
Nothin' weirder than I/
So Dark N Strange/
I Am, Cryptic Poetic Hark outta Range/
Who is, Dark n Strange/
Ya frightened of tha Wakin' Age/
Ya tormented by hæmaluna change/
IT'S NOW/
Needa label me "I Am" - The Omnipotent is Dark n Strange!/

------------------Verse 2--------------------------------
I'm spittin' real ****, so consider me exlax/
Banishing the lies, I'm leavin'em just facts/
True talk is how this ****'s gunna torment Ya/
Break ya Soul if ya fearin' It, I'm thinkin' torture/
Wake Up/
No fire to go with  your sulfur/
Poor tormented Souls end of time to torch ya/
Flowin' hot speakin' blazen fluid/
Become a fire frequency king druid/
Remain in vain and **** it, You'll die morbid/
In days last You'll be over timid/
Skinnin' weak people like piglets/
Label me 'Naught' I've no limits/
I'm life Livin'  in center aligned/
Tippin' scales them ******' swine/
Ascend win twin minds combine/
Balancing act Life's **** or 'dalini/
Rise Up/
I'm beastin' the intensity/
I climb ladders frequently/
******' sick of livin' hell I harmonize Energy/
Mind insane I'm bringin' ******* madness/
Lost senses found you still sittin' sadness/
Be More/
I'm mastering levels with the Dodecahedron/
Ya livin' lame that's ya lazy ******' conundrum/
I get pure data that's distilled in a cauldron/
Most minds are piles of **** like postmortem/
Abominations bossin' somniliquists with abhorrence/
Only condemnation for such ******' malevolence/
Opened eyes providing ya with luminescence/
End for all contempt contrite by due reverence/

-------Chorus-----------
Duranged/
It's Dark n Strange/
Quit ya askin', 'What am I?'/
Darkness Fire burnin' opaque, I neva Die/
Strange Set by Ra, Look to tha Sky/
Nothin' weirder than I/
So Dark N Strange/
I Am, Cryptic Poetic Hark outta Range/
Who is, Dark n Strange/
Ya frightened of tha Wakin' Age/
Ya tormented by hæmaluna change/
IT'S NOW/
Needa label me "I Am" - The Omnipotent is Dark n Strange/

---------Verse 3----------------------------
I'm Clinically Fearless... Absolutely scared of none/
You're afraid of my haunted paradox... Defined me Fearsome/
I'm sick of this ****** lost society/
Living a worthless illusion no reality/
What is it/
Mass Individuals stuck in egotistical vanities?/
I am goin' crazy contemplatin' such insanity!/
Can't you see/
This is the path of demise for humanity/
You need a hand, so sad/
Refused for me to help you, your bad/
To hear this/
You need to wear a mental harness/
This is the seed of my soul's darkness/
Everybody does share none and lives careless!/
The fruit is hard truth, Ya life is hopeless!/
There's tha gun, here's tha trigger- PULL THIS!/
Should have been Tempus Fugit as We Carpe Diem/
Too late tempers temp-is ****-it Masses parley Global Requiem/
Yeah I know my process is dark & strange/
My mind is warped definitely it is deranged/
After all I Sow & Reap for simple change/
Here is wisdom, which is validated by three/
Blow your ears & gouge your eyes, than you will see/
Divide by none return to your commUnity/
The end of my advice, now reach for DivUnity!

-------Chorus-----------
Duranged/
It's Dark n Strange/
Quit ya askin', 'What am I?'/
Darkness Fire burnin' opaque, I neva Die/
Strange Set by Ra, Look to tha Sky/
Nothin' weirder than I/
So Dark N Strange/
I Am, Cryptic Poetic Hark outta Range/
Who is, Dark n Strange/
Ya frightened of tha wakin' age/
Ya tormented by hæmaluna change/
IT'S NOW/
Needa label me "I Am" - **The Omnipotent is Dark n Strange!

Dear Poet Friends, I conclude this series on The Enigma of Time by mentioning few important features about the concept of Time according to Modern Philosophy and Science. I have used a
simple format, and also tried my best to simplify the concepts for your kind appreciation. Unfortunately, there is no provision on this Poetry Site to show Diagrams to elucidate! If you like this one, kindly repost the same for wider circulation! Thank you, Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
            
       CONCLUDING THE ENIGMA OF TIME IN VERSE:
                      PART THREE – BY RAJ NANDY
              
              TIME ACCORDING TO MODERN PHILOSOPHY

UNREALITY Of TIME : Mc Taggart’s ‘A’ and ‘B’ Series:
Now skipping through the pages I come to Modern Philosophy, with Mc Taggart the British philosopher of the 20th Century.
He had acquired a substantial following with his 1908 paper on the ‘Unreality of Time’ initially.
With his quibbling argument he states, that moments in his ‘A’ Series of Time are either of past tense, present tense, or of future tense.
It is all about human perception, since we experience the past through our memories;
Become aware of the present through our senses, while future is pretty unknowable.
Here time appears to be flowing through us, as nothing remains stable around us!

In his ‘B’ Series of Time Mc Taggart expresses differences in moments of time as either Before or After,
Without using the tenses used in his ‘A’ Series of Time.
All parts in time can be expressed equally as points along a time line, in the absence of past, present, and future tense;
While here we appear to be flying through time in a metaphorical sense!
Thus in the ‘A series’ time appears to be flowing through us, but in ‘B series’ we seem to be flying through time on a timeline created by us!
Therefore, Mc Taggart finds both the ‘A’ and ‘B’ Series describing Time to be inadequate and also contradictory;
And he finally concludes that Time is unreal and does not exist in reality!

How Mc Taggart’s Theory Was  Updated :
Modern Philosophers have re-casted Mc Taggart’s theory in term of findings of Modern Physics.
His A-Theory is updated into ‘PRESENTISM’, which holds that only thing that is real is the ‘present moment’.
In ‘Presentism’ time has no past or future, and time has no duration either!
All things come into existence and drop out of existence, and past events no longer exist;
And since the future is undefined or merely potential, it too does not exist!

His B-theory is re-formulated into ‘ETERNALISM’ or the ‘Block Universe’, influenced by the later Theory of Relativity.
‘Eternalism’ holds that past events do exist even if we cannot immediately experience them, and future events also exists in a very real way.
The ‘flow of time’ we experience is just an illusion of consciousness.
Since in reality, time is always everywhere in an eternal sense!

Theory of Growing Block Universe:
It was proposed by the Englishman CD Broad in 1923, as an alternative to ‘Presentism’ where only the present exist;
And also as an alternative to ‘Eternalism’ where past, present, and future together also exist.
In ‘Growing Block Universe’ only the past and the present exist, but not the future.
Since the growing of the block happens in the present, with a very thin slice of space-time continuously coming into existence;  
Where consciousness as well as the flow of time are not active within the past,  
But they can occur only at the boundary of this ‘Growing Block Universe’!
Few scholars this concept did criticise, saying that in this theory the word ‘now’ can no longer be used to define Time!

But according to Einstein, this perception of ‘now’ that appears to move along a timeline, creating the illusion of ‘flow of time’, arises purely as a result of human consciousness;
And the way our brains are wired due to our evolutionary process, enabling us to deal with the world around us in a practical sense.
“People like us, who believe in Physics, know that the duration between the past, present, and the future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion,’’ said Einstein.

A poem on ‘The Paradox of Time’:
Now to lighten up my Reader’s mind, I present only the first three stanzas from ‘’The Paradox of Time’’, composed by the British poet Austin Dobson:
  “Time goes, you say? Ah no!
   Alas, Time stays, we go;
      Or else, were this not so,
  What need to chain the hours,
  For youth were always ours?

  Ours is the eye’s deceit
  Of men whose flying feet
     Lead through some landscape low;
  We pass, and think we see
  The earth’s fixed surface flee,
     Alas, time stays, we go!

  Once in the days of old
  Your locks were curling gold,
     And mine had shamed the crow.
  Now, in the self-same stage,
  We’ve reached the silver age,
  Time goes, you say? - ah no!
       Alas, time stays, we go!”
            
HOW LIGHT IS CONNECTED WITH THE CONCEPT OF TIME:
Brief Background:
I commence with quotes from the ‘Book of Genesis’ - Chapter One, along with my thoughts about Light and Time,
Before concluding this series with Albert Einstein’s concept of Space-Time.

“And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day. ……And God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years, and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth. And it was so.”
                                                      - BOOK Of GENESIS Chapter One.

Since ancient days, Light had acquired a religious and a spiritual significance.
Since Light became associated with goodness, intelligence and ultimate realty;
Light accompanies transcendence into Nirvana of Buddhist religious philosophy.
In due course the Sun began to be worshipped as an important live-giving deity.
As seen in the symbolic form of Egyptian Sun God Ra, and the Greek gods Helios and Hyperion as the Sun god and god of Light respectively.
In Hindu mythology Surya is the Sun god, and Ushas the goddess of Light.
Huitzilopochti, both the Sun god and god of War of the Ancient Aztecs was kept pleased with human sacrifice!

SOME PROPERTIES OF LIGHT:
Plato, during the 5th Century BC said that God was unable to make the World eternal, so gave it Time,  - “as the moving image of eternity.”
While some seven hundred years later St. Augustine in his ‘Confessions’ said,
That when God created the universe out of darkness with light, “the world was also created with Time, and not in time.”
Thus along with light, time also began to flow, while our scientists discovered a connection between the speed of light and time, few centuries ago!
To understand this connection between light and time, we must first understand something about the properties of light.
Light is the visible part of the electromagnetic spectrum* which can be perceived by our human eye.         (See Notes Below)
As seen in the red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet colors of the Rainbow in the sky,
When water droplets acting like countless prisms break up white sunlight!
Now this electromagnetic spectrum also contains the ultra violet and infra red spectrum which our eyes cannot see.
But this entire electromagnetic spectrum contains Photons, which are discreet packets of zero mass less energy.
In a vacuum light photons travel at 186,000 miles for second, which Einstein declared as the cosmic speed limit, and as an universal constant.
When a photon strikes the eye, it is turned into electrical energy that is transmitted to the brain to form an image which we call sight.

NOTES : Gama-rays, X-rays, Ultraviolet lights, have shorter wave lengths & more energy than Visible light. But Infrared, Microwave, Radio waves, with larger wave lengths are less energetic than the Visible spectrum of light. Sir Isaac Newton using a prism had discovered the spectrum of visible light, & used the word ‘spectrum’ for the first time in his book ‘Optick’ in 1671.

EINSTEIN'S SPECIAL THEORY OF RELATIVITY 1905 :
In his Special Theory of Relativity of 1905, he stated that nothing can move faster than speed of light which is 186,000 miles per second.
This speed of light always remains the same, irrespective of its source and frame of reference.
Now the mass of an object would double if it travels at 90% of light’s speed.
But if the speed of light is reached, mass of an object would become infinite!
Since photons, the quantum particles that make up light have a zero mass, they move at the speed of light.
Even inside the World’s Largest Particle Collider (LDC), located near the French-Swiss Border,
Experiments are carried out only around 99.99% of Light’s speed, in accordance with the Laws of Physics.
Einstein had also shown mathematically that on reaching Light’s speed, Time will come to a standstill!
And should this Light’s speed be exceeded, then Time would start to travel backwards, which becomes a mind boggling concept!
Here we enter into the realm of science fiction, which has been described by HG Wells  in his popular novel ‘The Time Machine’.
But to become a time traveler shall always remain our cherished desire and dream!

NOTES: Only mass less particles like the photon can travel at light speed, photons experience no time, they do not age. Objects with mass cannot reach the speed of light since in that case its mass will become infinite. Also, one cannot see the fourth dimension because of Lorenz Contraction, which is also related to stopping of time, for at the speed of light an object will shrink to zero length! Also, particles interact with the Higgs' Field present all around to pick up mass, excepting photons which do not interact with this Higgs' Field.

Now Einstein’s theory of 1905 is called ‘Special’, because it explains how space and time are linked for objects that are moving in a straight line at a greater speed but which is constant.
Time moves relative to the observer, and objects in motion experience ‘Time Dilation’.
Meaning, time moves slowly when it is in motion, as compared to one who is standing still, -  a relative comparison.
This can be further explained by the ‘Twin Paradox’, where a 15 year old travelling in a spaceship at 99.5% speed of light for a period of 5 years,
Returns back to Earth to find himself to be only 20 years old.
But to his surprise he finds, his twin brother on Earth who was left behind, has reached the ripe age of 65 !

Limitations of Special Theory of Relativity:
It was confined to non-accelerating bodies only, and after ten years of deliberation,
Einstein added gravitational force field, space-time curvature, and acceleration, -
To formulate his General Theory of Relativity with satisfaction.

   SPACE-TIME & GENERAL THEORY OF RELATIVITY 1916 :
Isaac Newton during the 17th Century spoke about 'absolute time' and 'absolute space', accordance to the understanding of science of his Classical Age.
Space was the arena where the drama of the universe was played out, and this arena was passive, eternal, and unchanging no doubt.
Time too was absolute with an independent existence, and continued to beat independently like the heart beat of Space!
Newton also gave us the Laws of Motion, and Gravity, with more massive objects exerting more Gravity than a less massive one in reality.
Now one aspect of Special Relativity is that space and time are merged into a four-dimensional space-time entity,
They do not exist as separately as envisaged by Newton and Descartes during the 17th Century.
Some 250 years later Albert Einstein, defined Gravity as a curvature of Space-time.
Einstein also tells us that gravity can bend light, which travels along the curvature of this space-time.
Gravity is flexible, it could stretch like a fabric warping of space-time caused by objects present within it, in fact Gravity is the shape of space-time itself!
The Moon rolls around the curvature created in space-time fabric by the heavier object the Earth,
Just like the massive Sun which creates the depression and curvature around it for the planets of our solar system to orbit round the Sun. *
Einstein’s space-time has been likened to a stretched out vast rubber sheet,
Where heavier the planet, more depression it creates on the fabric of space-time along with its own gravitational field.
Einstein’s Space is not passive like that of Newton, but has a dynamic presence.
Interwoven with Time, Space tells Matter how to move, while Matter tells Space-Time how to curve - in this dynamic presence!
The constant speed of light at 186,000 miles per second, is just a measure of space of something which travels over time;
But both space and time had to adjust themselves to accommodate the constant speed of light!
Thus space, time, and the speed of light are all unified in the General Theory of Relativity,
We owe all this to Albert Einstein, one of the greatest scientists of our Century.
NOTES: **Planets orbiting the Sun do not fall back into the void of space due to the attraction of gravity, and also due to their individual speed of acceleration maintained in orbit as per Kepler's Second Law of Planetary Motion. Mercury has the fastest orbital speed of 48 km per second, Venus at 35 km per sec , and Earth at 30 km per sec. as their orbital speeds. Planets further from the Sun require lesser orbital speed.

UNFINISHED WORK OF EINSTEIN:
During his later years Einstein was secretly working to find a ‘Theory of Everything’,
Which would ultimately replace the erratic tiny micro world of Quantum Mechanics.
His Theory of General Relativity had dealt with the functions of gravity at the greater macro level of the universe only.
So he hoped to extend this theory to find an all embracing Unified Field Theory.
For at the subatomic quantum level, as the Englishman Thomson discovered in 1897,
The electrons inside an atom at times behaved in an alien fashion and were very unstable!
This world of the subatomic particles is a wondrous world where time becomes chaotic;
Where the position of the electrons cannot be predicted with certainty!
Einstein called this unpredictable and unstable behaviour of electrons as "spooky action at a distance"!
In the ‘double-split experiment’ it was seen, that the light photons behaved both like waves and as particles, -
Even though the speed of light remained constant.

EINSTEIN'S NOBLE PRIZE For PHYSICS AWARDED IN 1921:
Now despite Einstein's dissatisfaction with Quantum Mechanics it is rather ironical,
That the Nobel Prize in Physics was awarded to Einstein for his work on the ‘Photoelectric Effect’ at the Quantum level;
Which for the first time had suggested that Light travelled in Waves and also as Particles ( i.e. as photon)!
This observation led to the development of electron microscope, solar panels, night vision devices, at a later date.
Since his Special and General Theory of Relativity considered as ‘The Pillars of Modern Physics’, was still being examined by the Scientific Community;
And they could be proved and accepted only subsequently.

'STRING THEORY' PROPOSED AS THEORY FOR EVERYTHING:
During the 1970s the proponents of ‘String Theory’ had claimed, They found a Theory of Everything, following Einstein’s quest.
They claimed that micro vibrating open and closed looped strings gave rise to some 36 particles at the subatomic level;
But also required 10 dimensions for this 'String Theory' to operate!
In our Standard Model of Physics we have only 18 particles as on date, therefore due to lack of scientific evidence,
There was no Noble Prize for those ‘String Theory’ proponents!
Efforts are on to find a Unified Theory of Everything, and to understand the mysteries of God’s infinite universe, -
We finite humans have just made a beginning!

Now, to reduce the length of my composition I conclude with a short verse by the famous novelist and poet DH Lawrence, -
Who had shocked Victorian England with his explosive ****** novel “Lady Chatterley’s Lover”,
Which later inspired Hollywood, and a film got made.

               RELATIVITY
“I like relativity and quantum theories
because I don’t understand them,
and they make me feel as if space shifted about like
a swan that can’t settle,
refusing to sit still and be measured;
and as if the atom were an impulsive thing
always changing its mind.”  – DH Lawrence.

Thanks for reading patiently,
‘All Copy Rights Are With The Author Only’, - Raj Nandy of New Delhi.

Ako di man adunahan
Pero kun ako man gali ma gugmaan
Akong ihatag ang akong tanan

Pero unsaon taman
Hangtod diri ra gyud taman
Kay bahalag gihatag ko na sa imo ang tanan
Ikaw man gihapon nakulangan

Wa ko man na abot
Ang pangarap nga mahawiran imong kamot
Nagpasalamat ra pod ko sa imo kay
Tungod sa imo di na ako masakitan pa kay
di gyud ko makalimot
Nga sa imo akong gugma, ako nang gihurot
Ug hatag mao nang Sa uban di na ako magmahal pa
Mao nang sa uban di na ako masakitan pa.

Kaniadtong mga bulan nga migo ra tika,
Kalipay na nako ang maka istorya ta.
Sa mga adlaw nga imo ra ko awayon,
Akong kalag nag agik-ik sa ilalom.

Sa mga oras nga ikaw galisod,
Kahinumdom ba ka nga naa ra ko?
Nitulo akong luha para nimo,
Ug misakit akong dughan alang kanimo.

Basin sakto gyud nga sa sinugdanan,
Diha ra maayo ang mga katawhan.
Sa mga tawag nato nga nagpainit sa dughan,
Ni abot ta ani karon nga murag gi kuriskurisan.

Oo, gihigugma nato ang usa'g usa,
Gugma nga lisod na pangitaon aning panahona.
Pero kining gugma nato akong gi pas-an,
Sama kang Atlas nga gi pas-an ang kalibutan.

Dili ko gusto mupalayo kanimo, langga,
Apan ang kasakit di na nako kaya --
Higugmaon nalang tika sa layo,
Ikaw akong pangandoy, ug ikaw ako i-ampo.

Sa paglakaw niining mga gabon
sa kalangit-on
Sama sa isa ka pagbaklay kauban ka
padulong ngadto sa kalipayon
Ang bidlisiw sa adlaw kanunay
gayud sa atoa nga magasiga
Kay ikaw sa tunhay mao
ang akong gugma.

Wala ko namatyagan nga ikaw mubaot
niining akong kinabuhi
Wala ko usab damha nga ang akong
kasing-kasing sa imo diay mulingi
Karon, ang dagat dili
na hintawon parat
Kay ikaw man ang akong gugma, busa dili
gayud tika ipahilak.

Ang matag-gabii nako, karon dili
na matugnaw
Mahitungod sa imong gugma nga sa tanan
gayud nagpatigbabaw
Ang gubot nga butang ginabag-o mo,
ikaw ra gayud akoa
Ug ikaw ginahigugma ko kagahapon, karon
og hangtod sa ugma.

Sa mainit mo nga mga gakos, sa matam-is
**** mga halok
Sa maanyag **** pagngisi, mawagtang
diritso ang akong pagkalagot
Gikinahanglan taka sama sa hangin,
tubig ug uban pa
Kay ikaw sa tunhay mao
ang akong gugma.

Dili na ako mulambinggit pa ngadto sa
uban nga dalan
Kay nagakuyog naman kita nga nagalakaw
nganhi sa kahangturan
Paminawa ang tanan ko nga gipangsulti
kay tinuod kani sila
Nganong mamakak man lugar ako, nga ikaw man
sa tunhay mao ang akong gugma.

Unsa’y ikatambal sa kasing-kasing nga nasamdam?
Unsa’y pwede ikapugong anin’g mga luha nga wa’y undang sa pag-agas?
Unsa’y akong buhatun para mawala nin’g nipilit nga kasakit
Sa akon’g dughan nga sa imu ra gihapon nipitik?

Ana sila mawala ra daw ni
Ana ka “this is for the better”
Ana ko, “asa ang better?”, “kanus-a pa?”
Kung sa paglabay sa mga adlaw, sakit gihapon
Sama atun’g adlawa nga ako nabiya-an.

Unsa’y akon’g buhatun anin’g dughan ikaw gihapon
Ginapangita, ginadamgu, ginahuna-huna?
Ako nagpabilin sa tunga-tunga
Sa pagsangpit nga ako balikan nimu
Ug sa pagbiya, paglubong anin’g paghigugma
Nga wala na lingi-a.

Ug samtang karun nga bisa’g gamay lan’g nga pagtakdol
Sa kasing-kasing ug sa mga kagahapon’g panumduman
Wala’y lain kan’g madunggan kundili
Hagulhol nga daw namatyan
Ug sa padayun nga pagpatay anin’g ala-ut nga gugma.

Ako padayun nga mamasin
Nga pag-abut ugma damlag
Mahuman ang kasakit
Magsugod ang bag-un’g
Kalinaw, kalipay, malipay
Akon’g kasing-kasing unta magmaya na sab.

Apan karun nagpabilin kon’g mangutana,
Unsa’y ikatambal sa kasing-kasing nga nasamdam?
Unsa’y akong buhatun para mawala nin’g nipilit nga kasakit
Sa akon’g dughan nga sa imu ra gihapon nipitik?

Niadto ko, nibisita sa lugar
Kon asa mi una nagkita;
Mao ra japon,
Ang mga kahoy ug mga bulak
Nagasambit sa among gugma
Nga hain pa man dili gayod mawala.
Siya akong tunhay nga kalipay
Sa pagmata ko matag-buntag,
Tunhay nga kasingkasing
Sa iyaha, akong ginapamatyag.
Nikuha ko ug papel,
Aron magsulat ug balak para kaniya;
Maot man paminawon, apan
Akong buhaton nga patsyada.
Nitan-aw ko sa blanko nga papel,
Naghuna-huna,
Ug sa dihang nakahinumdum hinuon ko,
Unsaon man diay nako pagsulat sa balak;
Nga ang bolpen iya man diay’ng gidala,
Adtong minglakaw na siya ug una.

Wala ko gihandom nga ikaw makit-an
     ning mga mata
Ug wala usab ko gihandom nga ikaw
     higugmaon ko pa,
Kay ikaw wala ko nahigustuan
    niadtong mga panahona
Ug sa dihang naibog man nuon ko nimo
     karon sa pagsobra-sobra.

Bidli man paminawon, apan kini
     mao mo'y tinuod
Tinuod pa sa unsang kamatuoran, wala man
     unta ni sa sugod:
Ug sa dihang karon pa na ko
     nahibaw-an nga ikaw diay
Ang bugtong kalibutan ning mga tiil
     ko nga gibaklay.

Apan ikaw usab langit ug ako
     usa lamang ka yuta;
Apan ikaw lisod tawon abton
     niining mga kamota
Ug sa dihang asa man ko
     karon nga mulugar,
Kay gikinahanglan pa ang tanan
    ko nga isugal?

Ug sa dihang gugma nga dili unta
     sama sa giatay;
Kung ikaw maako ug ako maimo,
     dili ka gayud magmahay:
Pagahigugmaon taka hangtod
     sa walay kahangturan
Kay ikaw pud usa ka dyamante
     nga tunhay nga handumanan.

Ikaw ra ang naa niining akong
     utok ug dughan,
Ug bisan pa'g uklabon mo wala
     nay lain, wala nay uban
Kay ikaw usa ka babaye nga lisod
     gayud pangitaon ug ilisdan;
Ug sa dihang magapaabot na lamang
     pud ko nga ako usab imong makit-an.

.you can never really write any poetry by not covering the "heartbreak" the loss of your own "printed" words: how much different is the internet, from "real" life? just asking... since: internet banking & internet shopping... to lose a poem / pre-scriptum is not exactly the same as losing a person to mind: father's day... i cooked the dinner, i took out the trash, i wrote an invoice... i guess that's much better than leaving a card of greetings... and, come to think of it? why are we the sort of people subjugated to nostalgia, with but also "without" a history? aren't we subjugated to nostalgia and a history as a "fiction"? the beginning of the 21st century, the end of the 20th century... the 19th century germans associated themselves with a nostalgia for ancient greece, we're the only people who have an inbuilt nostalgia "safety-mechanism"... the only people in time who are nostalgic about the life surrounding their own existence slot, which doesn't have a trans-temporal dynamic... i remember times when we would be teenagers... spitting on people from car-parks on imaginary tonsures, buying *****-magazines from indian cornershops, or belgian freebies of non-insinuations, white lightning cider while sleeping over at youth centers playing snooker throughout the night... even at school: attending a catholic school with the irish east enders... uniforms, sure... a chequered shirt: blue, red, white... tag? made in canada... and if only capitalism worked as it once did, made in canada? lifetime of a shirt? 20 years... now? made in china... not exactly real cotton, is it? 2 years... before ironing the shirt *****... once upon in gants hill, st. valentine's park, and the pub, recently closed, decent karaoke... in the park? golf, basketball, rowing boats in the large ponds... when the jews were there... gants hill roundabout... the hanukkah torches... jews scuttling wearing trainers come rosh hashanah: jews can't wear leather on rosh hashanah (judgement day)... shy like rats... when the jews were there (gants hill, ilford)... the park looked great... tennis courts... now, when neo-Bangladesh moved in? ****** place. what else do i remember from my original pre-scriptum that i lost? oh, that once time in gants hill... walking into a kosher bakery with ****** knuckles, having tested them on a canvas of a brick wall, buying some dough-fused-sweets? with the girl selling the sweets bewildered by fear? i like the look of fear in people when tested by uncertainty, and bleeding knuckles? later? climbing over the park fence, taking a **** while squatting in the darkened palace of the park, walking into a brothel, having my wallet stolen, not reacting in what would have been justified... high school... we wore uniforms... so no high school h'american culture trap / culture... school uniforms are the best idea, there's no chance to "shine" in telling apart the rich kids from the poor kids... there's only the standard... walking to a supermarket, past a thai surprise... sports bra, short hair... walking back... she's still there pretending to talk on her mobile to someone... you take her home with a few beers... play her some jazz... take her into the garden, the moon is a beauty... you **** her... hand in her underwear and you're still gambling... before the emergence of the nag hammadi library and the whole androgynous vogue, the thai were already readied with the lady-boys... when i reached in and found nothing but oyster... would i have stopped finding a wink-wink slouching worm? slap a trans in the face? no, not really... a thai surprise is, a thai surprise... i would have considered doing my first ****... "lucky" for me she was a she... a girl... ****** her in the garden under the moonlight... gave her my hoodie, which she drowned in... finally... the level of interaction where the female is not a mantis, i.e. a female larger than the male... she drowned into my hoodie as i walked her home... i like the familiarity with the mammalian, not resorting to insect superiority of females... these days... i find that males are strictly mammalian... while females? they are borrowing insect-esque ontologies... well, darwinism allowed the time-frame... males are mammals... females are insects, behaviour-wise... two time frame i do not appreciate the english for... darwinism is prime.... cultural-marxism my ***... what about cultural-darwinism?! no?! that doesn't exist?! cultural-darwinism is as real as cultural-marxism, and, in the former sense? it really does belong to the conservative right-wing politico spectrum! might i add? isn't psychology merely pop philosophy? i find psychology riddled with rubric cohesion, it's all oh so "self"-evident! i abhor psychologists... these gypsy philosophers... medicine-men with no pharmacological shadow of power... to prescribe drugs... arguments, persuasions, but no dialectics... psychology will forever be, for me, a philosophy primer, short-cut... pop philosophy... psychologists can treat people who have never read a philosophy book... r. d. laing... i remember this one instace... me and a fwend of mine travelled into central london, went into a bookshop shy of trafalgar sq., i spotted an edition of: the scarlet and the black by stendhal... i told him: i will trade you linkin park's debut album, if you buy me this... the transaction was made... the one book i read after seeing a film adaptation starring rachel (rakhel) weisz and ewan mcgregor... ra-kh-el: not ray-chel... we used to be humans once... at high school getting bullied back... putting pins on chairs once we got up, sitting on them... playing bulldog in primary school, slap-ball, tag, playing cards at lunchtime... 16 fatty boy... one summer in poland, comes back aged 17... the irish girls take an interest while eating a pomegranate... what was the success of your diet? don't go to the gym... excess skin, an aesthetic surgeon is not what you need... there are only two ways to lose weight... either via swimming or by cycling... cycling is the best... lose weight by also toning your body... gym is a bad idea... by going to the gym you are straining exclusive parts of your body, either the torso, your hands, etc., jogging? unless on soft ground, bad idea on concrete, arthritis... cycling or swimming... lose weight... tone at the same time, the skin is allowed the required time to adapt to shrink, and forget what propped it up in plump form with all that excess flab... ugh... i hated being attractive to the opposite ***, i never used it to my advantage! imagine... an irish lad comes up to me, on behalf of some girl while i'm donning a french braid: you look just like johnny depp in blow, impersonating george jung... 14 year old girls walk up to you asking what shampoo you're using... herbal essences... i never used my looks... *******... now i'm a heavy drinker... so much for looks... first girlfriend? a fwend had to call me telling me she called him that she felt butterflies when i dropped her at the train platform after a day's worth of dating: tate modern, edward hopper exhibitions, cinema: troy, starring rose byrne (briseis) - honestly, a man can go crazy over curly hair... and then a restaurant date... that **** just flew over my head... i wouldn't have noticed... honestly though... i missed the whole h'american cultural excavation genesis in high school... catholic... uniforms... jesuit army-esque formation... now, i'm ageing... i'm starting to find the company of cats to be: clingy... my shadow included... i once thought that dogs were needy... i'm starting to think that cats are worse, esp. the maine **** breed... "lonely" or "loneliness" doesn't really resonate with me, esp. when thinking something "feels" like a variation of claustrophobia: hence i write... without a dialectic in place, ever since plato wrote his dialogues... what is philosophy, primarily? isn't it an off-shoot of "claustrophobia"? we write because we are seeking escape from congested thinking, a variation of "claustrophobia"... now imagine a schizoid character... having to focus on an imaginary dialectic, actually... having dialectics enforced on him, with no clarifying exodus to posit a gensis with! now, a clingy dog i could understand, given the overpowering status of the leash... but a clingy cat, when there's no leash involved?! shoom! right over my head... gone, somewhere into the distance!

what, this is the part...
were i cite...
   the weimar ******
critical condition...
       a daft punk troop
of a song,
  end of line....
blow-up a hot air balloon...
worth of blaire whire...
play the tambourine
like a ******* video...
there are,
quiet, simply,
no nazis coming...
fashionista faux pas
examples...
i'm alive,
but i'm dead,
i just forget to don
a strap-on...
  "oops"?
   that **** go down well
with
the "in"-crowd...
usual... metropolitan...
verbiage surge of answers....
   many a fetish after...
we arrive at the sensible
aspect,
"toxic masculinity"...
when guns n roses wasn't,
and nirvana was just plain
gay...
              and then...
whatever that happened,
happened..
                 and people were like:
come to the "new" tomorrow,
there's always a yesterday,
in a dream,
in some phil collins
wannabe
studio...
or... some other random ****
that
excluded peter gabriel.

                 i died:
and just about right:
my harvest had come.

great book reviews...
"toxic masculinity"...
so all masculinity is
about a clockwork orange?
   if it is?
can i be pro abortion
anti mongolian horde?
yes? no?
  which is it?!
neither...
   **** me... that's just bad
luck...

                               sundbeds,
sunflowers,
tulips,
sunglasses,
    plenty of staged
eager nights...
boring political affairs...
and...
         when gaming was
more about the narrative...
and never,
ever, about the microtransactions...

point being...
it's a game within a game...
time, is the prime concern...
you play a game,
by waiting...
you wait: by playing a game...

  microtransactions
are...
you ever move a sim3 avatar
to a computer,
and make it play a computer game?
what's on the macrocosmos spectrum?
you....

               "back in the day"...
you'd spend a saturday morning
engrossed in a gaming narrative...
metal gear solid,
tenchu, final fantasy solid...
20 quid...
and you played the narrative...
and a game became equivalent
to the worth of a book,
resident evil,

            you paid for a month's worth
of gaming,
you exchanged tips,
you sometimes bought a cheat book
because of the homework,
and that was your saturday morning
before hitting the shopping mall
or, whatever...

the current dynamic of
microtransactions in gaming?
i never, ever, do...
i'm an old gamer type...
i see the potential of extending
the life-expectancy
of a game...

   as long as you don't buy into
the microtransactions gambling habit?
as long as you play the "game"
within the game?
the game is an assured classic,
akin to chess...

              you have to play
the waiting "game"...
             time...
                           that's all it is...
whether war robots,
    or dawn of titans...
        comparison...
  you know that the best fruit,
is fruit, allocated
to the geography of it being sourced
seasonally...
you can't actually get better
strawberries,
than english strawberries...
from england, come june / july...
no ******* point sourcing them
from spain in late march / april....

    same thing with gaming...
the modern games haven't made any
elaboration...
apart from dislodging the player
from the concept of narrative...
**** me... that's almost an improvement...
given that now: time is the counter
measure, and the gamer...
   is having to invest,
in a narrative, outside of the confines
of the game,
once upon a time,
games had time-narrative
constraints...
     now: there's time,
and there are gamer narratives,
excluding them from time-narratives,
of a game...
         it's almost a faux pas...
more like a wet-*****...
****** pinky lodged into an ear,
an april fools' day scant...

        if you hacked passed
the microtransactions hype...
and didn't?
and instead took to patience?
it's free...
   where once,
a game would cost you 20 quid,
and a month's worth
of narrative,
back then, when games
resembled books,
when the gaming industry
was heavily influenced
by literature...
and now?
   the game's free...
sure...
it's "unfair", it's biased...
when you don't engage
in imported gambling
of succumbing to what, this is the part...
were i cite...
   the weimar ******
critical condition...
       a daft punk troop
of a song,
  end of line....
blow-up a hot air balloon...
worth of blaire whire...
play the tambourine
like a ******* video...
there are,
quiet, simply,
no nazis coming...
fashionista faux pas
examples...
i'm alive,
but i'm dead,
i just forget to don
a strap-on...
  "oops"?
   that **** go down well
with
the "in"-crowd...
usual... metropolitan...
verbiage surge of answers....
   many a fetish after...
we arrive at the sensible
aspect,
"toxic masculinity"...
when guns n roses wasn't,
and nirvana was just plain
gay...
              and then...
whatever that happened,
happened..
                 and people were like:
come to the "new" tomorrow,
there's always a yesterday,
in a dream,
in some phil collins
wannabe
studio...
or... some other random ****
that
excluded peter gabriel.

                 i died:
and just about right:
my harvest had come.

great book reviews...
"toxic masculinity"...
so all masculinity is
about a clockwork orange?
   if it is?
can i be pro abortion
anti mongolian horde?
yes? no?
  which is it?!
neither...
   **** me... that's just bad
luck...

                               sundbeds,
sunflowers,
tulips,
sunglasses,
    plenty of staged
eager nights...
boring political affairs...
and...
         when gaming was
more about the narrative...
and never,
ever, about the microtransactions...

point being...
it's a game within a game...
time, is the prime concern...
you play a game,
by waiting...
you wait: by playing a game...

  microtransactions
are...
you ever move a sim3 avatar
to a computer,
and make it play a computer game?
what's on the macrocosmos spectrum?
you....

               "back in the day"...
you'd spend a saturday morning
engrossed in a gaming narrative...
metal gear solid,
tenchu, final fantasy solid...
20 quid...
and you played the narrative...
and a game became equivalent
to the worth of a book,
resident evil,

            you paid for a month's worth
of gaming,
you exchanged tips,
you sometimes bought a cheat book
because of the homework,
and that was your saturday morning
before hitting the shopping mall
or, whatever...

the current dynamic of
microtransactions in gaming?
i never, ever, do...
i'm an old gamer type...
i see the potential of extending
the life-expectancy
of a game...

   as long as you don't buy into
the microtransactions gambling habit?
as long as you play the "game"
within the game?
the game is an assured classic,
akin to chess...

              you have to play
the waiting "game"...
             time...
                           that's all it is...
whether war robots,
    or dawn of titans...
        comparison...
  you know that the best fruit,
is fruit, allocated
to the geography of it being sourced
seasonally...
you can't actually get better
strawberries,
than english strawberries...
from england, come june / july...
no ******* point sourcing them
from spain in late march / april....

    same thing with gaming...
the modern games haven't made any
elaboration...
apart from dislodging the player
from the concept of narrative...
**** me... that's almost an improvement...
given that now: time is the counter
measure, and the gamer...
   is having to invest,
in a narrative, outside of the confines
of the game,
once upon a time,
games had time-narrative
constraints...
     now: there's time,
and there are gamer narratives,
excluding them from time-narratives,
of a game...
         it's almost a faux pas...
more like a wet-*****...
****** pinky lodged into an ear,
an april fools' day scant...

        if you hacked passed
the microtransactions...
       and didn't have the chance...
microtransactions are like
the old school cheat hacks...
but not quiet, but somehow quasi-,
       a modern microtransactions,
would be a cheat magazine
thorough-through
a game like final fantasy VII...
you have homework,
but you still want to complete the game...
modern games...
modern games...
there's an "end gole"?
  what modern game is worth
"completing"?
    
   again: tron, ready player one,
back to the future...
star wars just became dead
to me...
   sick people will plague hard-working
people, with a quasi-gambling
addiction,
needing to make microtransactions...
and they will,
my father was plagued by
an impostor, claiming to be a
tax office official:
and what if, that person had
an authentic position at the tax office?!

when gaming was for gamers,
the games were bought...
there was a narrative...
but now... now games don't have a narrative...
why would they?!
   who the hell plays games for
the narrative these days?
i know that on the crapper,
i need a game that allows me
to experience live-stream
interaction with non-bots...

       and these old gamers,
who still invest their money
in literature-esque-games?
so i was the sad one,
investing in vinyl?
   aren't the classic ******* gamers
just as bad,
investing in prepackaged
narrative gaming
experiences?
             a game with a narrative...
yeah... me buying vinyl
is: b'ah b'ah bad...
       what sort of game is alive and well...
when there isn't a crowd pushback
for the currency of microtransaction?

the narrative is time,
   the longer you endure the inadequacy...
the more you realise:
you're basically playing
the same game,
but in your scenario:
it's free...
   in some other ******'s scenario:
it cost him 70 hundred quid...

personally?
   i love this microtransaction dynamic...
concerning the people who
do not engage with it...
it's the perfect antithesis
   of what ruined the music industry
with genesis: napster...

you really are, playing the ultimate
game,
time...
         the one sort of commodity
that games,
without a clear narrative construct,
"forgot" to mention in terms
of them being exploited...
to their full capacity
of the one "commodity"
they "forgot", or rather,
couldn't "sell"...

              a tenchu PS1 game could
have lasted me a month...
now? a free game,
like war robots...
with absolutely no NPC?
hell... i'll be 90 and still be playing it;

what else? applause!

Hari itu hari Sabtu. Dan, aku sedang ulangtahun.

Sepi. Hanya terdengar suara tetesan air dari keran yang lupa ditutup rapat di wastafel dapur. Desiran angin yang menggesek dedaunan di halaman belakang. Bambu angin yang bersiul di teras rumah tetangga sebelah. Jalanan beraspal yang kosong. Terpaan sinar matahari. Mangkuk beling yang diketuk penjual makanan keliling. Suara jarum detik jam dinding.
Dalam diam aku menunggu. Mahesa belum juga datang. Duduk di atas sofa, perlahan kulahap sekantung keripik kentang, suara iklan di televisi kini menjadi musik latar yang mengisi siang terikku yang sepi ini. Lupakan fakta bahwa kakakku, Mas Kekar, adalah satu-satunya orang yang mengingat hari ulangtahunku. Ucapan ulangtahunnya tiba tadi pagi pukul tujuh lewat pesan suara. Kalau ada Nenek, ia pasti akan membuat kue tar dan nanti malam kami akan duduk melingkar di atas meja makan, menyantapnya bersama-sama sambil minum teh lemon. Sayangnya, sekarang rumahnya jauh; di surga.
Tiba-tiba, telepon genggamku berbunyi. Satu notifikasi baru, ada satu pesan masuk. Dari Mahesa, katanya ia akan sampai lima menit lagi. Baiklah, akan kutunggu dengan sabar. Walaupun ia bilang akan menjemput pukul setengah dua belas ― aku sudah menunggunya sejak pukul sebelas lewat, sekarang pukul satu, dan lima menit lagi ia akan datang. Menghabiskan waktu seharian bersama Mahesa selalu menjadi momen istimewa bagiku, membuat jantung jumpalitan tak karuan, dan berakhir tersenyum-senyum sendiri setiap kali sebelum memejamkan mata di atas tempat tidur pada malam hari. Singkatnya adalah orang ini selalu membuatku bahagia, sadar atau tidak sadar dirinya, ialah sumber kebahagiaanku. Bulan dan bintang bagi malamku.
OK. Kubalas pesannya, lalu kubuka pesan-pesan lain yang mungkin belum kubuka. Tidak ada pesan lain atau telepon. Belum ada telepon dari Ayah ataupun pesan singkat. Entah kapan ia akan pulang. Entah kapan ia akan menyempatkan diri membuka kalender, teringat akan sesuatu, dan mengucapkan, “Selamat ulangtahun.”.
Aku berjanji tidak pernah ingin jadi orang yang hidup tanpa memiliki waktu.
Bel berbunyi dan pintu diketuk. Spontan, aku merapikan rambut, memakai tas selempang, dan bangkit. Kusiapkan senyum terbaik untuk menyambut Mahesa. Setelah pintu kubuka, senyumku langsung sirna. Mang Ijang, tukang pos daerah kami yang malah muncul.
“Siang Mbak Maura, ada tiga surat buat Bapak,” dia menyerahkan tiga surat berbentuk persegi panjang yang sangat familiar bagiku. Sudah berpuluh, bahkan mungkin ratusan kali aku menerima surat macam ini sejak lima tahun terakhir. Kubaca nama perusahaan yang tertera di kop surat itu. Masih sama seperti biasanya; bank, perusahaan listrik, perusahaan telepon.
“Tandatangan di sini dulu, Mbak,” Mang Ijang menyerahkan pulpen dan sebuah kertas tanda terima surat. Setelah kutandatangani, ia pergi.
Kubuka surat itu satu per satu sambil duduk di kursi teras. Surat-surat tagihan, seperti biasa. Hampir dua bulan rupanya Ayah tidak membayar tagihan telepon. Aku bahkan tidak berselera lagi membaca nominalnya. Aku menghela napas dan memandangi jalanan kosong di depan rumah. Kuputuskan untuk memakai earphone, memilih playlist di aplikasi musik, menunggu Mahesa di kursi teras sambil ditemani angin semilir.
5 menit.
Everything is Embarrassing – Sky Ferreira.
10 menit.
Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want – The Smiths.
15 menit.
Love Song – The Cure.
Dua puluh menit kemudian, Mahesa datang. Senyumku seketika merekah, walaupun ia terlihat begitu lelah. Kaos polo abu-abunya basah oleh keringat, dahinya dibanjiri keringat, napasnya terengah-engah dengan ritme yang tak beraturan. Aku duduk di sampingnya yang memegang kemudi dan masih bisa mencium wangi parfumnya samar-samar, meskipun tujuh puluh persennya sudah bercampur dengan semerbak peluh. Tapi, siapa peduli? Menurutku, ia tetap mengagumkan.
“Maaf lama, Ra. Tadi ada urusan penting yang mendadak,” katanya sambil memilih-milih saluran radio. 19.2, saluran radio yang khusus memutarkan musik-musik indie dan jadul. Mungkin ini salah satunya mengapa sejak awal aku tertarik dengan manusia yang satu ini dan berujung benar-benar mengaguminya, kami menyukai jenis musik yang sama. “Jadi, ke mana kita hari ini? Dan, akan mengobservasi apa?”
Kubuka catatan jadwal terakhir kami, “Hmm. Hari ini jadwal kita ke galeri seni kontemporer yang ada di sebelah balai kota dan pameran seni di hotel Metropolite. Kita bakal mengobservasi lukisan kontemporer supaya bisa membandingkan dengan jenis lukisan yang lain.”
Kamu benar, sesungguhnya ini hanyalah sekadar tugas kelompok bahasa Indonesia. Mungkin bagi Mahesa begitu, tapi bagiku bukan sama sekali. Kuanggap ini sebuah kebetulan yang ajaib. Kebetulan kami sekelompok. Kebetulan kami berdua sama-sama tidak masuk di hari ketika guru Bahasa Indonesia kami membagikan kelompok dan kami masuk ke dalam kelompok terakhir, kelompok sisa. Kebetulan kami memilih tema seni lukis dan belum ada kelompok lain yang mengambil topik itu. Kebetulan dua anggota kelompok kami yang lainnya tidak bisa diandalkan, yang satunya sakit berat dan yang satunya lagi sudah dikeluarkan dari sekolah sejak bulan lalu. Kebetulan hanya aku dan Mahesa yang tidak bermasalah. Maka, hanya kami berdua yang selalu jalan ke tempat-tempat untuk mengobservasi. Sejak saat itu, aku percaya akan keajaiban.
---
Semuanya berawal dari pertemuan singkat kami di minggu keempat kelas sebelas. Oke, ralat, bukan sebuah pertemuan lebih tepatnya, melainkan hanya aku yang memandanginya dari jauh. Namun, itu satu-satunya kejadian yang mungkin dapat memberi jawaban atas pertanyaan mengapa dan bagaimana perasaan ini bisa muncul. Bukan secara tidak sengaja dan spontan seperti yang biasa kau dapatkan di adegan jatuh cinta pada film-film romansa norak, tetapi adeganku sederhana, penuh kehati-hatian, dan perlahan.
Kelas sebelas adalah tahun yang cukup sulit bagiku. My dad was busy more than ever—well, until now dan itu tahun pertama Mas Kekar menginjakkan kaki di dunia perkuliahan. Dia diterima di salah satu universitas negeri ternama di Bandung, jadi hanya pulang ke rumah setiap akhir bulan. Aku punya waktu sendirian di rumah dengan jumlah yang berlebih.
In that year, my friends left me. Ghia pindah ke luar kota dan Kalista bergabung dengan anak-anak populer sejak mendaftar sebagai anggota baru di tim pemandu sorak. Kami hanya makan siang bersama pada beberapa hari di minggu pertama sekolah, setelah itu dia selalu dikelilingi dan menjadi bagian dari kelompok cewek-cewek pemakai lip tint merah dan seragam yang dikecilkan. Aku mengerti, barangkali dia memang menginginkan posisi itu sejak lama dan citra dirinya memang melejit pesat, membuat semua leher anak cowok melirik barang beberapa detik setiap ia berjalan di tengah koridor. Lagipula, jika ia sudah mendapatkan status sosial yang sangat hebat itu, mana mungkin dia masih mau berteman dengan orang sepertiku? Maura, the average one, yang selalu mendengarkan musik lewat earphone, yang lebih banyak menyantap bekal di dalam kelas pada jam istirahat. Aku hanya masih tidak paham bagaimana seseorang yang semula kau kenal bisa berubah menjadi orang lain secepat itu.
Tapi, hal lainnya yang cukup melegakan di tahun itu adalah aku bertemu dengan Indira. Kami berkenalan pada hari Senin di minggu kedua kelas sebelas, hari pertama dia masuk sekolah setelah seminggu penuh dirawat di rumah sakit karena DBD. Begitu melihatku duduk sendirian di baris paling belakang, dia buru-buru menghampiri sambil bertanya, “Sebelahmu kosong?”. Sejak itulah kami berteman.
Indira dan teman-temannya biasa menghabiskan makan siang di bangku koridor lantai satu yang menghadap ke lapangan, bukan di kantin. Walaupun secara harfiah aku bukan salah satu bagian dari kelompok pertemanan mereka, Indira selalu mengajakku bergabung dan orang-orang baik itu rupanya menerimaku.
Di bangku koridor itu kali pertama aku memerhatikan anak laki-laki yang bermain bola setiap jam istirahat kedua. Hanya ada dua-tiga orang kukenal, itu juga karena mereka teman sekelasku sekarang atau di kelas sepuluh, sementara selebihnya orang asing bagiku. Di antaranya ada yang berperawakan tinggi, rambut tebal, rahang yang tegas. Aku hanya belum tahu siapa namanya waktu itu.
Selanjutnya, aku bertemu dengan laki-laki itu di kantin, sedang duduk bersama beberapa cowok yang tidak kukenal, tertawa lepas. Mungkin karena aku jarang ke kantin, aku baru melihatnya di sana waktu itu. Pada acara demo ekskul, aku melihat dia lagi. Bermain bass di atas panggung. Anggota klub musik rupanya. Pemain bass. Pada hari-hari berikutnya, aku lebih sering melihatnya berjalan di koridor depan kelasku, kadang sendirian dengan earphone, kadang ada beberapa temannya. Anak kelas sebelas juga rupanya, jurusan IPS juga. Hari-hari berikutnya, selalu kutengokkan kepala ke jendela setiap kali ia lewat di depan kelasku. Aku penasaran, kenapa mataku tidak pernah melihat orang semenarik dia sebelumnya? Dan, kenapa dia hanya muncul di tempat dan saat-saat tertentu, seperti saat istirahat, masuk sekolah, dan jam pulang? Hari-hari berikutnya, berpapasan dengannya membuatku senang sekaligus semakin penasaran. Dia anggota klub fotografi juga, aktif, sering memimpin rapat anggota di kantin sepulang sekolah, dan ternyata karyanya banyak dipublikasikan di majalah sekolah. Dari situ aku tahu namanya, Mahesa.
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“Geser ke kanan sedikit. Bukan, bukan, sedikiiit lagi. Sedikiiit, oke, pas!”
Sebagai dokumentasi, Mahesa memotret beberapa lukisan dari berbagai angle dan beberapa kali memintaku untuk berpose ala-ala tak sadar kamera. Tentu saja aku pasti bersedia, selalu bersedia. Dia juga merekam keadaan sekitar dalam bentuk video, yang katanya, bakal dia edit menjadi super artsy.
“Percaya sama gue, kita bakal jadi tim paling keren yang menghasilkan dokumentasi paling berseni, Ra,” kata Mahesa sambil tersenyum sendiri melihat hasil jepretannya.
Destinasi terakhir kami—pameran lukisan yang sedang digelar selama seminggu di hotel Metropolite—akan tutup sepuluh menit lagi, tepat pukul tujuh malam. Setelah terakhir kalinya Mahesa merekam keadaan pameran dan beberapa pengunjung yang masih melihat-lihat, baterai kameranya habis. Sebelum pulang, Mahesa bilang dia tahu tempat makan enak di sekitaran sini. Jadi, kami mampir untuk mengisi perut dengan soto ayam dan berbincang-bincang sebentar, setelah itu baru benar-benar pulang.
Di perjalanan pulang, derai hujan turun perlahan. Karena rumah kami terletak di pinggiran kota, jadi kami harus melalui jalan tol atau kalau tidak, akan lebih jauh. Mahesa memencet-mencet tombol radio, mencari saluran nomor 19.2, tapi setelah mendengar acara yang dibawakan penyiar radio, dia langsung mengganti asal saluran radio yang lain. Saluran radio yang menyiarkan lagu-lagu pop kekinian yang sedang hits.
“Sekali-kali dengerin genre lain, ya, Ra,” katanya sambil menginjak rem. Jalanan seketika padat merayap di depan kami. Mungkin karena hujan mulai deras, jalanan mulai tergenang, orang-orang mengemudi dengan lebih hati-hati.

(bersambung.)

Paglalang ra daw sa'kong hunahuna,
Ang bugnaw na kakulba ni gakos sa'kong tutunlan,
Ako gayod kahibalo na naa sila sa atong kalibutan,
Sa hayag na bulan, ug sa bugnaw na mga dalan,
aduna'y tiguwang naghuwat kanako sa atbang,
siya kay niduol ug nangayo sa akong pangalan,
nisuway ko'g dagan, ug ako'y nakuratan; gikuptan,
'di kalihok ug 'di kadagan, wa nako kaibaw asa akong padulngan,
pero ingon sila, paglalang ra daw sa'kong hunahuna,
nag bulong sa akoa ang mga taligsik,
sa dihang nikusog ang dalugdog,
akong panit namugnaw, ug akong mga balahibo nitindog,
Ingon si mama,
limbong ra daw kini ug paglalang sa'kong hunahuna.

Ako nga gapabilin ra unta
Sa kweba nga way himaya
Kay ako man diri komportable
Pero ako gipugos gyud nimo pre

Ang akong kweba imong gi kulkog
Mintras  Nagngisi paka nga mura ug hubog

Hangtod sa migawas na
Ang lawas kong imong gibira
Padung sa kalibutang mahayag
Kahayag nga makadam.ag

Ako nga nalipay
Kay karon kabalo na ako
nga ang kalibutan kay hayag man diay
ang kalibutan dako man diay
Ang kalibutan kay gwapo man diay

Pero wa ako gadahum nga sa ulahi ako diay kay magmahay
Kay ako, gidulaan ra diay sa inatay

Pagkahuman nimo bolabolahon
Sa imong kamot paligidligiron
Sa imong tudlo kalit nga palagputon

Isagpak sa pader
Ihandos sa ilalom sa lamisa
Ipahid sa maong **** kupas na
Pero ako nagpakatanga
Balikan mo, ako gahulat pa
Pero diay, ako gidulaan mo ra.

Sa kaataas sa panahon nga ako nag inusara,
nitunga ka ug ang akong kasing kasing imohang gipara,
gikantahan ug giduyugan nimo sa imong gitara,
dili man unta ka dautan ug mata para mag antipara,
pero nganong wala man nimo mahibaw.e nga ako usa lamang ka basura.
bisan pa sa tanan nakong mga pagduda, imong gisaad na imong gugma kanako ra.

Ikaw akong ginahigugma labaw sa tanan
Hinglabi na sa kalibutanhong mga butang,
Ikaw nagapundo ra gayod sa akong dughan
Di matugkad nga gugma, imong mabatsyagan.

Sa matam-is kong mga pahiyom,
Ako lamang gahilom, apan mapalaumon
Nga ikaw sa tunhay ako gayod nga maangkon
Dumdumon mo, sa pagmata sa kadlawon.

Sa mga luha nga nagabara niining mga mata
Gani gayod imo kining maamguhan unta,
Ang akong mga kapakyasan ug kakulba
Nga ikaw hapit na gayod mahilayo sa akoa.

Anaa pa bay laing paagi sa pagpakita sa kasubo?
Di ko makapugngan ang pagbiya mo kanako,
Apan ania ra ko mag-atong sa imong pagbalik
Bisan madawatan ko lang gihapon kay mga kasakit.

This ebony sky, is Nut so sad?
Angry at Ra perhaps.
Bidding him to Duat.
To suffer the whims of Apophis

What hymn soothes her.
Wherein she would bade him to return.
Tis it the song of the seas?
Shall we call upon the cerulean?

Hathor pays me no mind.
She suffers not my woes.
She is love made flesh.
Maybe I am lost to her.

Cursed this binding darkness.

Bast, what does your third eye see?
Is Duat so chaotic?
Your children long for Ras embrace.
Geb longs to awaken.

My cries go unanswered.
Save for Khonsu.
Who dances with Hapi upon the Nile.
I believe it is she.

Khonsu, are you not tired?
Do you not hear the songs of the cerulean?
Cease your daunting ways.
Rest now so that Ra may run his course.

Mafdet, God of justice!
Your scales lack balance!
Suffer Khonsu no more.
Set right this celestial nonsense.

Just as the cerulean began to grow hoarse. Just as the children of Bast were about to begin their exodus. And before Geb set to ease with frost his own labors. Apophis swung open the gates to heaven. Hapi, the God of the Nile lit up as gold to guide Ra out of Duat.
The earth warmed once again. Set ablaze with life unforgiving relishing it's mockery of Seth. Anubis, lowered his head and sat on the banks. Resolved to let Geb have this moment.
Hathor still ignores my plight. But at least now I can see her.

i find it scary that people
who claim sanity
and drink coffee puffy-eyed
at 5a.m.
are the relative answer to
make those, drinking whiskey
at 7 minutes to midnight,
as being insane...*

forthrightly to obscure and to make make words archaic
would never make sense in geometry...
or what's the archaic standard
diacritical model of: yeß, prime minißter!
when you don't apply orthodox diacritical syllable
incision you'll make nonsense adjustments:
for a trill (or rolling)
we range from "r" alveolar "trill"
    and ʙ / v in Cyrillic (acute w)
           into bilabial?
я-Alice... uvular?
                  voiceless epiglottal trill,
or n, or ...  or surd?
                     you really have to word it
or over-word it when a few punctuation
marks aren't ascribed to phonetic units
that letters are:
rather than phonetic equivalents of ethanol
as attaches of carbohydrates
to be later stressed in the discussion:
which never took place...
    i'm still baffled by the conesus that
someone drinking coffee at 5a.m. is considered
sane compared with someone drinking whiskey
at five-past midnight...
the former is sane because in his state he will
embrace the state and craft a future plan for
making change... and the latter will
have to inherit the estate of the asylum
and craft a future plan that says: you, will,
not, be, able, to, congest, this, world,
with, your, dreams; even, if, your, dreams,
are, equatable, with, demeaning, ambitions,
to overcome, the stereotypes,
                 for they speak the drooling R...
when others hark or trill it...
                            and they say: power
exacted from an "ambiguity" of what's necessarily
stressed when a word is cut apart into
syllables, which cannot be further exposed to be
under-the-scalpel of letters having "punctuation"
marks (diacritical marks)...
as some might say, i'm colourblind given
the medium i use that's dichromatic sentenced to
be polarised by that, which is in between...
council-flat tenants complaining to the builders that
their kitchens don't represent Kuwait hotels
in Newham... or how to address post-colonialism
in how to represent modernity and moderation
and a disfranchise of ethnicity being the original
model for exploitation...
             i remember a time in England when
it was a happy place to be... prior to 2004...
          talk in Poland? mongrels amid stern
nationalism that represses homegrown terrorism,
given the historicity of Pole and Turk...
        and someone in the Philippines is to
address the question of justifiable censorship?
the Englishman is overtly prudish,
or let us say: overtly too polite...
   the Englishman is towing politeness when
he's actually towing a rotting corpse of a titan
he once was...
there was no chance to teach people
diacritical syllable punctuation, hence that
pseudo-science of leveraging a simple diacritical
representation into a dynamic of a Rosetta stone...
what could ʢ ever represent other than
a voiced episteme gluttony without a drill to
concede a need to repeat summer follows spring?
yes, after 2004, my status of a minority was left
blemished by those who i account for as my
"brethren", but, who have dragged me down,
to worthily accept a quote from Isaiah,
to some obscure circumstance of having an ethnicity
to begin with, and so unlearn my use of English
into a hostile psychological stance that simply said:
globalisation, and war against all and none:
within a framework of none? myself.
now i'm jealous of a snoopy-eyed garcon
and i know he's not jealous of me...
but i am jealous of the idea that capitalism actually
implants in the garcon's hope the idea of
a "state" pension... there are no states within
globalisation... the other "Japanese" time-bomb
in western society is not old age... it's pensions:
pray to god you don't reach old age...
the productivity of an expendable billion of Chinese
means you are entrusted with a brief hiatus
from work, and an slight existential bewilderment:
before jumping into the yawning lava pit of Etna.