drifting


Battle in the castle
of wicked flame
and the Light
Aren't we only human?
and our Heart
is the Colosseum
of war
between our heroic part
and those wicked ones
and I'm drifting
in this realm
not a heroine
definitely not a heroine
May You forgive me Lord
Despite my cowardice
my shameful act
my embarrassing foolishness
I beg You
allow me to continue
to feel
and be grateful
for Your real, boundless affection
of Love and tenderness
forever

First stone


Honey,
this is your first stone
comes from your patience, hard work, and persistence
and this first stone
given
from the Source of Inspirations
that you have given your self into

Sad and happiness is other side of a coin
proud and humiliation just a playful creature in the lake
wagging us with their tail
seduce us
drown us

stand still
and hear the rhyme
and slowly step to your next stone
and next stone
and next stone
and thousand stones ahead

be a servant
of truth and honesty
and let your soul
spread the wing
and fly

Jakarta, December 18

ps: Dedicated for my husband Dul, award winner of television Journalism from UNICEF and Alliance of Independent Journalist (AJI) for documentary movie about children.

joker asks


There is a joker
Hidden beneath my skin
Mocking
“Do you seriously want to meet God?
It just your poor bluffing, mate
What do you want?
Do you think you have that holly ring in your head?
You are the laughing stock of the creatures, heaven and earth
Look at you
Who are you, really?” said joker laughing heartily.

There is a joker
Hidden in my ear
Whispering
licking my ear with his menace tongue
“Do you think you can meet God
don’t you remember His answer to your pray
Masked Man.
You’re still using your deceitful mask
Idiot
Hiding your disgusting face ,
Mundane world sucker beast!” He slapped my ear with his foot.

There is joker
Hidden somewhere
In me

I think I know him, long long.. time ago..

tonight pray

Please forgive me,
for the fire
that comes in me
the air that fill most of me
dirt in my eyes
water in my ears
diluting me from You
please give me way
to find myself in You
help me cleaving
tons of veils
that baring me from You
save me, God
from the shadow
and million forms who come in between
save me, God

from a friend


I got this message in my facebook inbox this morning.
It soothing, at the very first day of seems to be the busiest week
before im leaving for another overseas coverage next week, Insya Allah..

Meanwhile, please enjoy, a quotation from old testament words of King Solomon or Sulaiman the prophet in Islam:

" For everything there is a season,
And a time for every matter under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
A time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to seek, and a time to lose;
A time to keep, and a time to throw away;
A time to tear, and a time to sew;
A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate,
A time for war, and a time for peace, "

(Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

Thanks pak Jhon Mc Dougall.. :))

Love, spirit of creation


i think love between man and woman, platonic or not, or in some level of physical or brain (still physical) attractiveness
between those opposite kinds
in the very moment when they fall in love, in some level, before it gets too physical, too earthly ....


Love, Godly or mundanely
anyway those kinds of Love
that creates butterfly in our stomach is a Creative spirit
this kind of love is a must
to Keep living, to Create something

I suspect this spirit
originated from the first of human creation
I think this is way of God's loves us
That is why God creates Man and Woman
or flower and bee..
or blue and pink ..
Sun and Moon..
To express His Beauty
and Love
trough nature of his creation
that He, himself designs

Love triggers Creativity
and Looks How Creative God is
can you see?

world seems dissapointing
with the middle east conflict
and horrible news from Africa
but still laugh of a kid in the street can lighten your heart, right?
or how beautiful sound of drizzle in your roof to night?

A wise man say, its one.
Smile of a kid, and blood scattered in Pakistan
is one. I can not undrestand that. But I feel its just right.

so To night,
I hope everyone blessed with Love that will fill them with inspirations and creations
and reflect His Genuine way of Loving

God, do you think my writing is too cheesy?
anyway friend, lets fall in Love..
be expressive and celebrating Love

Ps: lagi mabok nih, I think mix something here... btw, i might delete this post when Im awake..:))..



mediocre novels


I start to ask myself
why i like mediocre novels
it tells you nothing than the story of desperate lives
or a detective try to find the killer (even i know whose the killer in the middle of my reading),
or i dont know, am i too critical
belittle everything who doesn't bring sense of enlighten yet i like it
I like the way story told
i like how a story reach the peak
or how i see bad ending destroy all hundred pages before
(this also works to movie, ending is decisive)
and perfect ending save a -would-be-mediocre- book, becomes book of the year..
such as Kite Runners, damn ending. It will made you cry.
or .. i dont know, now, I read eric seagal 1958, not reaching the ending yet
while Seagal bragging about how special Harvard is..
its nothing,
like one day, a respected friend, surprised me with his catharsis trough
a trash song.. (trash clip too..)
Why human always sinking in nothingness and entertained by illusion?

weekend

After a long holiday

And rushing hours for works

Grumbling about traffic

And pimple,

And trying to be

a daughter

a friend

a scribbler

an auntie

a worker (exhausting… but, survive)

now, its weekend,

press the shutdown button

and voila!

Welcome my personal corner


Indonesia 2007

Rakyat indonesia itu..
rela mati demi dua belas ribu rupiah
dihina, dipukuli, diperkosa, disetrika di negeri orang
bergelimpangan di jalan-jalan
tidur dalam gerobak
rumah di kolong jembatan habis dibakar
anak-anaknya jadi target pedhopilia
berterbangan saat tsunami
berlarian saat lari dari gempa bumi

Pejabat Indonesia itu..
merasa betul-betul pejabat kalau naik mobil lebih dari 200 juta
merasa dihormati dengan sirine yang mengaum saat dia membelah jalan raya
naik limousine di Paris saat mau minjem uang di CGI
sementara negara donor berdesakan di bis murah charteran
Senang kalau orang memuji dan mencium tangannya
Merasa bangga dengan rombongan besar yang mengikuti kemana-mana
dan sekretaris yang bisa bermain tenis

Sebagian kecil rakyat Indonesia itu,
Selalu menyetir mobil mewah dan supirnya membawa pistol
Liburan ke Eropa jadi patokan
Menyebut lawan bicara dengan Jij
Merasa puas saat tiap anaknya diberi rumah mewah lengkap dengan pudel
Menilai orang dari sepatu yang dipakai
dan bau parfumnya
Merasa bangga saat menyebut rumah di Menteng
menyumbang Hansip Kampung berlebihan supaya rumah tidak diserang
Datang ke konser Il Divo tanpa berusaha tahu artinya

Sebagian kecil rakyat Indonesia lagi,
Melihat segala kecurangan
dan kemunafikan
tanpa bisa berbuat apa-apa

dan sebagiannya lagi,
terseret kedalamnya.


Dua hari sebelum lebaran..
mohon maaf lahir dan batin, indonesiaku..





knocking heaven's door

God,
this battle inside,
is it You?
Is it You?
behind all the fuss
behind all this hunger
nausea
rolling and rolling
and rolling
and those pictures keeps
inundating,
those whispers
mocking,
God,
is it You?

run into my nationalism

I went to the land where people despise their roots
blame their ancestor
inherited guilt
hiding head in their lap
shame on their leaders
and alienated

Its struck me
that my effort to think nationalism is foolish
is partial

that, probably, proud of where you come from
its part of nature

and to have terrible history
for a nation to exist
is a cursed
because children are deceived
and lie, passes from generation to generation

Its good thing
that I have such proud history
for some episode of our ancestors
they were a truly fighters
they fight for freedom and glory
after 300 years in slavery

compare to a nation
that live from taking other human live

and busy lowering other nations
while in their home
people hang themselves because of frustration
dumped from so called civilization
just because they have different skin color

Thanks God,
to make me Indonesian,
a resident from a nation, a new born nation in 40's
(I used to call "artificial" nation, which is, I think its not an artificial shape anymore

when million people died to defend the idea)
which come of an idealistic dream

of unity in differences and freedom

I am,
the resident of nation that are poor
nations with thick dense of hypocrisy
and low level of decency

Those,
made me have to struggle more
to make this half way nation
a real home
for homeless souls

to deliver a genuine story
of rebirth of a great nation
that will be written
in the history

(after 2 week in commonwealth continent in the south)

Zombie



Do you know that now you live with Zombie around you? Or maybe I already one?

Do you like Gossip show? Or you like to talk about someone’s bad? Or what you prejudice as bad? Hush-hush with your friends? Your eyes becomes wider, lowering your voice…that kind of style..

Gossip is when you talk about someone’s bad and it made you feel that you are better than her or him, you are kinder than him or her. Gossip made you despised him or her because with gossip, you feel that she is half human, and you feel that you are the complete one.

That’s our face now. What we consume everyday in our television screen, in our daily conversation.. Suddenly, we feel better after we talked about A who split with his wife, or C who used wrong outfit in a occasion, or D who is pervert, or the arrogant T, or The noisy M…or The Bitch C . After gossip, world suddenly better place to live, because there is bad person which are they, and there are good people such us.

That’s why, gossiping is such dangerous and destructive act. Because it deceives us. Gossip makes us feel better. And we continue to feel that way, and become blinded, continue to be blinded suddenly, we can not see inside our-self anymore. Because with gossip, we cover the light of knowing of our mistake and weakness, with such wrong perception, that we are better than someone, and finally, we feel that we are better than any people in the world.

Gossip makes you lost your honest mirror, your heart.
and continue to live without heart.

Its same with dying.

and become Zombie.

.

in sudirman kav. 3


Sesungguhnya,

Dari segala keruwetan ini, Tuhan

Tidak ada segala sesuatu pun

Selain kita berdua

Yang lamat-lamat menyentuh hati ku

Mendera perasaanku

Kerinduan yang tak pernah aku mengerti

Tidak ada segala sesuatupun,

Selain kita berdua,

Sejak dulu

Tidak akan pernah ada kata yang cukup

untuk menuangkan ini

hanya titik air di sudut-sudut mata

mengungkapkan rinduku,

:tidak ada segala sesuatupun ternyata, Tuhan

selain kita berdua


in my tea garden,august 2007

(in a strange feeling of 12 years flashback in a meadow near Bandung)

the keys


two keys to unveil the secret of life:
grateful and patient
:)

eclipse

We meet in change of seasons
Waiting flowers bloom
And witness the fall

Snow pours our heart
searching for sunlight
to melt the ice
words are beyond us
;this longing is clear

Aren’t we only a play?
in stranger's dream
Aren’t we trapped?
In the old jokes
Aren’t we a perfect irony
A mock of life?

I steal your face
In time
I steal the time
with you

selamat jalan ito

It is strange feeling to start your day by reading an sms telling your friend has passed away. Ito, knew him for several months, when he had training in my office. A silent guy, young, persistent photographers, and now, he started another dimension in his life. I could do nothing, except open his friendster page, bid him good bye.

Please forgive him God and protect him in this eternal journey..

Aamiin..

Manila, august 1,

(surya hito, 26, passed away at 3.40 am today)

elementary


I travel to the Light
the Light is in me
I fight the darkness
That is part of me
I look for a mirror
To show my error
I weave the time
With surface patience
I conquere space
With my mess
With all the wound
and defeated pride
I will still travel
To the light

after months ....


Asking and knowing
the purest heart are dreaming
of little butterfly hanging
in the tapestry of living

Asking and knowing
Let the clown smiling
summer stinging
rain drizzling
and the illusionist dying
its dark secret rubbling

Oh thou,
purest of the purest heart
in the thatched house
of God
please stop here in my port
take me to the rock

and let me in

Virtual Reality



I went to "Dunia Fantasi" Indonesian Disney-like amusement park on Satuday. It was tiring, he, he, an amusement park is not so amusing anymore, especially, if you are in early 30's, overload with jobs and seems never ending loans, no regular sport, problems with cholesterol, ..etc, etc.. plus you went with three teenagers and a traumatic seven year old kid.

It was really an amusement park scenes, six of us hanging and running everywhere in the park, bringing bags full with chips, crackers, mineral water, spare clothes, towel and everything.. meanwhile, those teenagers glued to their mobile phone, and we were also busy persuading the traumatic kid to take a ride in a roller coaster or giant ferry wheel, and even the kid needed to be persuaded to get on to the merry go round.. he he..

Well, there was no insight at all until, I went to attraction, called "meteor attack". It's a virtual reality games. We sat down in a moving chair, in front of the giant screen that gave us a three dimentional effect. It was like, we are the pilot, controlling the airplane, jumping into the cliff, flying high to the sky, fighting with the alien. Our seat was moving, like seat in the jet airplane.

It was like true experience, the sound, the view, the move.… but we were not moving anywhere, actually, we were not going outside the universe, we were not jumping into the cliff, we just there, screaming, scarred, pounding, jostling, jumping in our seat, but we were not moving anywhere. We just there, in a dark room, with a giant 3-d screen..

And I’m thinking of another 3 D screen that I face everyday, outside the dark room, outside the amusement park. A 3 D screen that I’ve been facing since I was born . Im not moving anywhere. My life and heart is always there, somewhere, In the hand of the Creator. While my body and soul, is scanning His Giant screen, playing a role in His Play. His virtual reality. Our's too.

Nothing is real, John Lennon once sang.

Those cliffs of live, those peaks, sea in our life, the fall, the winning, the happiness, the sadness, the ambitions, the houses, everything will be left behind. One day, our time to leave our seat will come. We have to get outside the dark room, and meet with the Real.

I think the smartest man, in the virtual reality attraction, is he who tries to see behind the screen. A man who is trying to get the meaning in every view that is presented.

And for me, I keep hang on to the meaning, in every meaning that I find, while my seat in this dark room keep moving, pounding, jumping, …

until the time comes for me (and you) to leave.

Nothing, Its just jazz

Jazz is the most missed understood music in Indonesia. It has been perceived as music for elite, and shamelessly, some people think that seriously, and love (and hate) jazz because of their class. Expensive tickets for jazz festivals, exclusive performances of jazz group in the lounge or club, support the false understanding.

Jazz becomes another “nuveau-rich” performances, an artificial life style, like many others things here, in Indonesia.

And Jazz alienated from its roots.

In the contrary, jazz was born from the lowest class in the society. Dating back to the 18 centuries, where African was forcedly taken to southern part of US, and become a plantation worker, they need rhyme that can help them to express their distressed soul, a music that can give them a vision to their freedom and root of their homeland.

They create music from the home-tools, song lyrics as code of their secret meeting, a full indulging, soulful rhyme, music that brought them into the deepness of their ironic fates. They create a new tone for their music, .. A site describes jazz as:

"The unschooled" techniques from this music, the slurring and bending of notes, the wild falsetto cries and the like, became common features of jazz as both an instrumental and vocal music, but in far more artful ways as jazz developed sophisticated principles for its performance"

I feel jazz accelerate my brain. Like a hormone. It makes everything enjoyable. Like writing this.. unmeaningful piece..

Anyway, good night.

And, gives jazz a chance, will you?

He he..

The War

Every soul has their own battle,

Then be the winner or looser

Never be too proud

Or too sad

Because everyone of us is a fighter

In the war that we choose

Cebu, The Philippines, January 10