Unreachable and Forever Incomplete

Tomorrow is my 1st February
Where the days end prematurely
None like other months
Short just a few days
Where moments are just about to prime
Left in the unknown days
Except those in other months
Under different stars
Unreachable, tomorrow is the first
Of the forever incomplete

Order Me A New Year

Got a very nice email today from TUT (Totally Unique Thoughts) :

I want you to know, yoodi, that I’ve ordered up another year for you.

Think I’ll call it 2010.

I’m going to put most of the same people of 2009 in it, since you all think so much alike. But there’ll also be a few new, very cool cats coming to play – give them some time to grow up though.

And I’m going to have things start off pretty much exactly where they left off in 2009, for continuity’s sake. Flips folks out too much when I don’t.

All in all, 365 more days in paradise… and only one request of you:

DREAM BIGGER.

Coolio?

Let’s do this,
The Universe

Hidden Memoirs

An hour before midnight in the last day of my December which somehow takes me to a decade backwards. A journey re-winded to the days of open sea and clown fishes, a separate world from where I am , divided by an oxygen tank and guidance from dive masters. A different universe totally, living between two worlds and breathing on different kind of air pumped into the lung giving the heart a different kind of beats.

My private universe, a comfort space where joy, honesty, fears , insecurities and anger can freely expressed. But most of all it is the space where passion and sensitivities grows robustly. Open, express-full and sincere. It is like a place of a quiet barbecue party for two in the backyard under the sky filled with shining stars where the rest of the world is indulge in euphoria of greeting the new year in masses whether it is a place of rage urban vanities or marginal gathering in open public spaces.

It is a place of warm safe feelings from holding hands and doing things together, watching the rain and smelling the scent of wet grass and white lilies. It is the kind of passion that are not meant to be for the arrogant red roses in crystal vase but those for wild flowers that don’t require human intervention other than those who loves the rain and wet earth. The same kind of free spirit that creates sensuality which urge longing for love making naked on a wooden garden bench under the stars. An intimate delicious dessert at the end of that quiet barbecue in the backyard.

It is home. A house of dream that somehow abruptly at this hour before midnight has turned into several hanged framed photographs entrapping collection of stories and the grapevine of underlying hidden memoirs. Memoirs within a block of time that was given for free just like breathing the air but now is lost. Time that passed is lost forever and another block of time ahead is uncertain to repeat the same kind of experience.

And as I am writing this I suddenly realized that where that house is located, the new year arrived one hour earlier. Happy new year my dive master and thank you for giving me a space to breath a different kind of air. Thank you my universe for handing me all the blocks of time for free.

Written just about reaching midnight 0f 2009
image source shoppingblog.com

Selamat Jalan, Sembilan

Kulihat rangkaian batu alam berwarna hijau itu tergeletak diatas meja dengan salah satu ujungnya yang cacat tanpa kaitan.

“Rantai cerita terputus” kebiasaan menterjemahkan sesuatu hal kecil dan menjadikannya sebuah kejadian besar muncul begitu saja dibenakku. Imaginasi tolol itu kemudian aku teruskan dengan mulai menghitung satu persatu batu yang terangkai menjadi sebuah gelang itu dari ujung yang satu ke ujung yang lain.

Ada sembilan batu gempeng yang terbagi menjadi tiga bagian yang terpisahkan oleh sepotong hiasan perak. Gelang batu alam ini sering aku pakai dibanding dengan pernak pernik perak lain yang aku miliki. Aku suka merasakan dinginnya permukaan batu-batu itu menyentuh permukaan pergelangan tanganku setiap awal memakainya. Dapat kurasakan suhu badanku kemudian perlahan mengalir lewat kulit dan rasa dingin yang tadinya ada kemudian hilang. Sebuah proses yang terjadi dari aksi dan interaksi antara dua semesta.

Biasanya aku lalu suka memutar-mutar gelang itu dipergelangan tanganku sambil menyentuh satu persatu batu yang ada dan merasakan kehangatan yang sama antara batu-batu itu dan kulit tubuhku. Peristiwa ini kadang membawaku kepada kehangatan-kehangatan lain yang kurasakan seperti turunnya hujan dihari yang terik, aroma kopi dipagi hari, tertidur lelap di sofa yang empuk, bahkan kembali kepada peristiwa masa kecil dimana ibuku menggandeng tanganku di hari pertama masuk sekolah.

Sembilan batu alam itu seperti rangkaian peristiwa yang menyatukan semua kehangatan itu dan memberikan rasa nyaman yang luar biasa setiap kali memakainya di pergelangan tanganku. Sembilan batu ajaib itu kini sedang cacat tanpa kaitan yang berfungsi merangkai rasa nyaman yang tersimpan dalam batu-batu itu dan mengalirkannya kedalam tubuhku.

Aku bangkit dari dudukku dan mencari alat yang dapat kupakai untuk memperbaiki kaitan yang lepas itu. Sambil memegang ujung yang cacat dan mengencangkan kaitan yang lepas dari jepitannya dengan sebuah tang imajinasi tololku kembali memikirkan angka sembilan dalam bentuk yang lain.

Umur kehamilan biasanya sembilan bulan
Kucing katanya punya sembilan nyawa
Sembilan puluh sembilan nama Allah
Ronaldo dari AC Milan memakai kaos dengan nomer sembilan.

Tiba-tiba aku memikirkan sebuah permainan angka:
Urutan kesembilan dalam bilangan bulan dalam satu tahun dan gabungan angka dua dan tujuh yang penjumlahannya menjadi angka sembilan.

Sembilan ternyata memang angka yang unik. Begitu juga dengan tahun 2009 yang merupakan tahun kesembilan dalam dasawarsa ini. Selamat jalan, 9.

Hallo 10!

image shared http://www.northof9design.com/

Panah Patah

Arjuna ─❤➛ Srikandi

Yo Yo, 2010 Is In The Hood

image source youraudiofix.com

Praying Monkeys

Two monkeys (not included the clever one snapping this shot) praying for the rain.

This is a post to test publishing to blog through mobile email. Let’s see how this came out.

In Bed With Natalie

Photograph by Sonia Prabowo - www.soniaprabowo.com

like angel’s hearts pairing intimately
something in the air feels pleasantly
unwrapping sentiments sincerely

with no self – conscious nor shyly
perform a union of blessing, emotionally
a conspiracy of love, formed erectly

and without noise, amazingly
infecting each other, attractively
as joyful gifts, baring naked openly

like a child wonders, honest and freely
when finding toys, a discovery
one Christmas morning, still early

I wish on other mornings, if only
in a natal bed, I reborn naively
and that child will be my Natalie

like three wise men and Virgin Mary
with Divine bonding, born a child holy
and recklessly I could spread love, daily

——♥——

written for the child within me, a Christmas morning poetry
who I now think perhaps the title  should be called In Bed With Angelina Jolie

My December

Inspired by Jalal-al-Din Rumi's poem, a Persian poet and sufi, the spirit of Christmas and the love of the Divine for Virgin Mary, Our Lady Madonna. Also by Linkin Park's song "My December"

Love , White Lily , Empty Bench @ Deviantart.com

Fragile