ONE - SIDED

I wants you to remember that one of the greatest illusions is the search for pleasure without pain, praise without reprimand, or nice without mean . . .

Ironically it is in looking for those illusive one-sided events in a two-sided universe that many experience so-called suffering.

Sometimes I wonder why we have to endure the things we do, the problems, the pain, the betrayal, the deceit of others when all we are striving to be is a 'decent' human being. Remember that although you may not realise it, you are an example to others and if your example of a decent human being inspires just one person to not cause harm, to not hurt another, to look at their own lives with open eyes and consider change then this is a good thing. All too often we cry 'enough' and ponder that the next straw will be the one to break the camels back.

　
When we embrace the balance and the truth, love surrounds us.
When we understand this truth, our fears and guilt can evaporate,
and we can begin to dance with our life.


 

THE PALM TREE

Walk with me into the depths of the night, gently
place your hand in mine, our fingers interlocking, two
twin souls slowly becoming one, bound by love.

I feel the heat from these burning embers.
A melodic glow from day resonates through the torn
asunder haze of this balmy december rain.

We have become something so vascular in nature,
yet so delicate. The fabric of this tryst has become a blood
ridden thing. A fleshy laceration, flapping in the wind.

I know these warm humid streets we walk too well. What
lies ahead is nothing by nightmares entombed in cryptic
words, built on a blue-collar workers sweaty spin.

 

If the first act was when we met, then when you left
must have been two - “I love you” - was just a lie, with no doubt
to burden my mind, I’d rather live a lie, than without you.

I am but a woman, I am composed of my limitations, the
rest is only animated imitations, but as long as I’ve the light of
the moon to guide my eyes, I will always see you -
as a strong plam tree.

You are no mere a man, you are something more. Every
soul has a counterpart, please stand inside mine, the radiant color
of your eyes amplifies my undying love in between my sighs

 

 

 

PARFUM EXOTIQUE

Quand, les deux yeux fermés, en un soir chaud d’automne,
Je respire l’odeur de ton sein chaleureux,
Je vois se dérouler des rivages heureux
Qu’éblouissent les feux d’un soleil monotone ;
Une île paresseuse où la nature donne
Des arbres singuliers et des fruits savoureux ;
Des hommes dont le corps est mince et vigoureux,
Et des femmes dont l’œil par sa franchise étonne.
Guidé par ton odeur vers de charmants climats,
Je vois un port rempli de voiles et de mâts
Encore tout fatigués par la vague marine,
Pendant que le parfum des verts tamariniers,
Qui circule dans l’air et m’enfle la narine,
Se mêle dans mon âme au chant des mariniers.


When, both eyes closed, on a hot autumn night,
I breathe in the fragrance of your welcoming heart,
I see happy shores spread out before me,
Blazing in the fire or a monotonous sun;
A lazy isle to which nature has given
Lonely trees, savory fruits,
Men whose bodies are slender and vigorous,
And women in whose eyes shines a surprising candor.
Guided by your fragrance to these charming moods,
I see a port filled with sails and masts
Still tired by the waves of the sea,
While the perfume of the green tamarinds,
That flows through the air, and fills my nose,
Mingles in my soul to the sailors' song.

GREEN BUTTERFLY

I would like to be
the green butterflies you notice
out the corner of your eye
as faraway a drama teacher studies the beauty in your frown,

I would like to be the memory of
watching  the children you once
played hopskotch with
now re-enacting shakespeare and cobain in
rainy carparks as though the two went together,
to be that common and unthought of at the time
yet somehow part of the backdrop
to when you were at your most carefree
like white tigers passing school gates,
like black butterflies
in a jar of honey or
the corners of photographs　　　
that slipped between burnt thumb and forefinger,
the rest gone to ashes

he thinks what he cannot say, he isn't a poet
all his thoughts turn on a burning rotisserie
but he imagines a trapeze girl tossing a ribboned hoop
over a lion and twilight trying to
find its way through spaces between odd
shaped temples dooms;
all of this in a flick of your hair,
and then that
nirvana tattoo under your December eyes,

I would be inked there forever if I could
while the rain went on dragging the mascara down
mybuttefly white cheeks
like shadow puppets on Chinese lantern paper
you still always smile when it rains
you saw three stars on the sky
it is the tear that will never make its way to your lips,
the salt of someones desire you will never taste.

you carry it with you, and  you only think of it
when you see green butterflies
I'm not sure how the two go together,
its a long distance thing,
a marriage so liquid and ribbon like,
forever breeze and moment caught　
that there is no way it will ever solidify
there  is always thepromise of watching
the sunrise from the rooftop  of the blue seafront house
where you grew up
waiting for dandelions to grow one month out
of the year on the way to school so that　you could get all your wishes
in at once before Christmas

it is something I will never do without you there.　
still, ill fall  asleep sometimes
not at the beach but on the docks
and  listen  to the water, not quite the sea where you  are
but a sea inside when I close my eyes and
think of all the gr bueen tterflies flittering over
its dark silks
reminded of how i would listen to you fall asleep
from across the lines
your smile is a postcard, an empty bench on the pier.
if　you were hear i would watch you sleep in the  same way i watched　
the trees from my window where

I was kept  secluded as a child a thousand  miles from home
not with sadness but longing, not with  love  but wanting
wanting you to know that there is something more than love
will ever be, a conversation  that goes so deep  into  the night
insomnia and adrenaline sets in, and longing becomes so caught up
in itself, in telephone lines and sighs and good byes
so drawn out they have bled into the morning
more stark than Arthur fellig photography and December suicides.
I remember being so tired at work, the thought of you
still clutching my chest

I didn't even feel the  anxiety and the trauma set in,
you kept life at bay and promised to take me away
while I went on breathing nostalgia and clementine
until the days I started to collapse
breathing  the thought of you but never getting close enough
to feel your breath, the thought of your hands　
in gloves  and the polka dot scarf that somehow matched your eyes
stir in the sky, along the course of migrating birds,while the sky　　　
caves in, and  pulls in the city with it
that you almost don't notice you have moved
nauseating, living　
to go on living after coming close to so much beauty
condensed to a single black tear,
all my universe in a parallel life;
its singularity the weight of all oceans
just above your cheek
where your smile is the  last thing to shatter me completely





 

THE PLASTIC WARS

Untreated medical wastes are drained into the sea

Globalization is often touted as the solve it all solution of the problems this world faces today. However there are several very highly toxic effects of globalization as well. For instance these seemingly dissipating borders means that the western world has been and even now is engaged in dumping its plastic and medical waste to third world countries. They are able to do so as there is a lack of whistle blowing as well as checks and balances in countries like Pakistan, Indonesia which has been subjected to dumping for the last 30 odd years.

On my visit to Semarang two days ago I along with some other media friends of mine took a drive down to Banyumanik which is the scrapyard heaven in Semarang. I see crushed plastic, piles of medical waste, IV tubes and infusion bags lying on the ground in warehouse and people coming to buy them, I caught hold of one of the kids who works there, to my utter shock he tells me that local manufacturers who make plastic products even down to utensils come and buy this scrap to reuse!

One begins to wonder, how are Indonesian’s authorities allowing this dumping of hazardous materials on our soil? The case though is a multilayered one with many of these materials being passed off and misdeclared in our customs under "plastic scrap" and other categories to be cleared and sold off by importers. What they cannot sell off they dispose, so they are hand in hand with the whole process. Many of our hospitals too are often found disposing medical waste in their own backyards or adjacent rubbish heaps, to the extent that several unborn fetuses have been routinely popping up all over Indonesia in waste heaps.

　
Although a strengthening and overhaul of customs law as well as more diligence on control of such imports will prove useful. It is of utmost importance that local communities get involved in keeping our country clean of such products. For this purpose reporting such waste piles are key, too long have we been exposed to harmful diseases due to lack of vigilance. The effort will require us to not drive past burning heaps of open air rubbish in our city and stop to ask why and who is exposing us to these hazardous materials. More can also be achieved by organizing community cleaning drives and not restricting them to beach fronts.

Only if we ourselves show care for the environment around us can we effect change in keeping it safe and livable here in my country, Indonesia.


　

..

 

My hands are stained with blood, as red as
the surface of the sun, from which I ripped my
still beating heart from my cavernous chest, for you.
I tore open my rib cage, and mercilessly thrusted the
jagged ivory into my wretched organ. All in the name of you.
Your preservation. All for you. Before you go would you be so kind,
as to drown me face down, in my own bright red blood? Oh, would you please?

 

Turn.Turn. Now, who are you?

 

 

 



WHEN . . . .

When water turns into blood
When the sun fades into black
When my heart pounds for the last time
When I will see you go.

 

I’m washed to the shore
Breaking into the rocks of loneliness
Aching my empty life without you
Drifting through memories of us

 

I know life would be easier
when you talk more to me . . .

 

 

 

 

KA - FREAKIN' - BOOM

we all carry a few pounds of explosives in

our heads -

the sniff dog in wait can't smell it -

the sniper on the roof can't get it in his sights

we carry it though - and we saunter

through their detection blockades -

and we can't be stopped

 

 

some of us think it's simply precious cargo -

like some wedding night sheets rolled into a ball and

protected by skull plates - comparison parties with the

girls from work - love the love you own

or like there's an antidote in there - like

anybody ever gets better without blood on their hands -

that designer placebo was tested on runaways

or even an anectdote that's worth a fuck - like i said ,

then he said - and then we said - we said , and said -

and said .... all day - so we can say it again

 

we're simply wired to go bombastic -

that's the only truth that comes -

and at any point we can take out a city block -

with a flippant split decision

we can't help with the same whim - cause

 

 

we're not designed for joy spread healing humility -

we're about the train wreck onslaught crescendo

we can catpult ourselves into someone else's oblivion

and pull all the pins - cutting them to pieces

but we can't give love - without keeping score

 

the flower you picked for your love fucking died -

but the lie you told is still ticking away -

we punish , we bring hell to , we cut the daisies

 

god , we even rape

 

we're all simply eachother's obstacles -

we will clear the way for our pleasure

 

- daisycutters -

 

kill babies so we can fuck without someone

crying in the other room

mother invalids so we can sing about lovebirds

 

uninterrupted

 

set fire to the homeless so you can own them

forever - keep them locked inside the smirk on

your ugly cannibal face

i saw the scorch marks on the pavement and

the twinkle in your eye

i saw the mutts invade the dumpster outside the clinic -

while you humped like dogs - i heard you say yes 

a thousand times

and i saw your grandmother's make-up smeared all over

the pillow case inside the coffee can -

 

don't sing lovesongs about sparrows to me ... it won't

exonerate you - i'll just show you -

there is DNA everywhere -

that's what we're about -

it's on your bed - your floors - your doorknobs -

it's on your lips , it's on your streets - in your dumpsters

it's even in your coffee cans

 

we leave a trail of what we are -

every step of the way

where are the rose petals

where is the pixie dust

where's the fucking confetti

 

 

only in poetry

 

 

Z.E.R.O

 

Walking into the next genocide,
Of a million minds at once,
Upon the falter of a life enraged by thoughts of love,
A loving gaze into a daze,
That summons you to dwell,
Upon the thoughts which summon you to heaven or to hell,
A life denied of chaos,
Entropy into the sun,
The sun of which your soul is born, a mourning never learned,
Into the faithful sun you burn,
Into the moon you cry,
As nothing comes before you,
And never leave another life inside your mourning star,
To cry for everything that all us zeros truly are.

 

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, WILL . . .

Photo By Will Meinhart

 

With heaps of prayers I'm sending you

A birthday wishes
May the road of happiness and more

Which leads you to the stairs of bliss

Make a wish and give it wings

Dreams of bright and beautiful things

Each life you’ve been blessed to touch

 

　

Reminds me to persevere,

If not for your birth day

I wouldn't have someone

who is always there for me,

helping and supporting me

making life easy and peaceful.

 

　

A special way of knowing that someone is always there

A special understanding that has time passed has grown,

And today cherishing all those things been above,

I would love to bring the world to your feet on your Birthday as your present,

but let my wishes suffice with a genuine prayer for your happiness and well

being.

　

　

End of the words . . . . talk to the foot

 

 

 

i am the center of a

one-way conversation

to the god-complex

wielding a scalpel

on my shoulder

　

i reek of profundities yet

speak such profanity

to spite your preconceived

notions that a few fucks,

shits and bitches is

resonant of evidence i

can't drop your thoughts

for a tick

　

(shall i tock)

 

i've discovered the

machinations of my

spartan conundrum

spoilt with brandied sweet-

honey sweat -- whereas

she felt us simply lost

in translation,

 

i found

myself truly lost

but only one thoroughly

selfish could accuse

me of selfishness, hell-

bent on a romance written

in opium-smoked signals

accurst with contentment

in the cursive of conceit

　

i practice the art of sanity

in the face of an ill logic:

I am queen, commoner,

jester and spiritual advisor

for an empire of one

　

a woman of many hats

reclining in a guillotine

SLEEPLESS NIGHTS

I am typing up and retyping my scattering thoughts in the dark tonight, trying to scribble down every word and every syllable on my computer before they fall behind my thoughts

The windows feel too tight, the door too shut and the ceiling spinning, closing in

These sleepless nights, I imagine all the scattered words and fairytales with no endings and whispering beautiful songs I would whisper in your ear
But when I see you, all I could say is  ‘I missed you’  just like anyone else would have said, with a blank expression and emotion, emotion stronger than the whole universe, bubbling inside of me

The window blows open by the late night wind and the blank curtains hover in the room, casting big shadows and reviving the most fearful, childhood nightmares

The wind blew hard and I sat on the steps breathing in the cold air, an atmosphere without you beside me.

They have all left, in crowds and in pairs, but I was still alone, breathing in cold air like a cigarette and ruining my lungs.....

Conversation Overheard

 

 

"We grow and evolve,
And move away from things that
Used to captivate us."

 

"It's part of life..."
"I don't really remember..."
"I don't really want to know."

 

"You're so far beyond me..."

 

"Trade offs - "
"So what do you say
We move on..."

 

 

MNEMOSYNE

 

i fell in love with the delicate curve of her neck,
faint and lithe as a flame writes itself into the cracks of souls
as if an angel wet her finger in the clouds and painted a scene
of doves in the belltower of hell,
moon children with phantom masks that make the world tremble with shadows
and their black despair

i crumble when you touch my tears
i can smell funeral orchids curling in your hair
skull pregnant with the snowy ashes of memory
that can only be reborn
in the dread chimes of eternity, twelve strokes at midnight, twelve songs
a child laughing somewhere very far away, smoke filling the room
and moving her lacy hips
in time with dying

i watched her from my window she had white victorian birds in her hair
and i could do nothing but smile softly without a face
as my shadow formed the silhouette of a phoenix
her face was bone china and without movement
but her eyes burned
i saw the black and dreaming ocean of a parisian silent film through them
bloated with cracked roses and mirror salt
she walked into the sea
and floated forever away from the light

but i knew she was writhing with the shadows and sea dandelions,
lighting beautifully the skeleton of a beast
with her swan plume of death and life and everything in between
pearl laden mermaid hair and flowered moss matted to my thighs, i was carried to a beach
littered with gray diamonds and apple cores and longing
i floated with peacock feathers glued to my eye sockets
i saw with the palms of my hands and the murmur of lightning in my chest

i bloom now only in memoir shaped regret
slumbering only when the stars die on my spine just so
feigning the deference of wings,
plagued with nightmares of being happy that mold the pulp of my lips like clay
when i dream, i will dream only
of that fateful ride to the coroner's office,
her skinless paper doll face
my last poem penned on a cold february morning
before the sun had risen and i could feel my blood

i wrote a requiem for her,
blue veined and masterful
the sponge that sucked the life of the last lingering vines of my flower bed
in hopes that her blood chrysalis would find wings
and flicker sometimes in my peripheral vision,
a soft cool hand pressed against my feverish brow

i go to my window every morning hoping i'll find a cocoon
or a hairline fracture in the clouds
i torture myself

you refuse to think of me or or even haunt the crumbling labyrinth of my thoughts
spanish lolitas, dried red flowers pressed in between the pages of their hair,
disappear around corners i never knew existed
and minotaurs scream with savage mourning, skeletons of clouds chained
to the wall
my skin still smelling like yesterday rain

so i will think of you as a broken doll
heart like a blue bird dying in your chest


i will think of you as me

 

 

　

　

 

Rapture of Euphoria

One can easily envisage a love that is flawless.
A sovereignty of inhibitions, a union impassible, infallible.
Phenomenal perfection from every perspective.

In almost every heart the acceptance and anticipation of
disappointment and betrayal have become a comforting familiarity.
Contemporary love is almost classified as being laden with heartache,
burdened by suspicion and insecurity.
Soaked bone deep with preconceived notions and
expectations of performances and milestones.

We silently criticize and emasculate our so called "lovers".
Miscarry our own intentions of virtue.
We are almost predisposed to failure and torture
at the hands of our own desire.

But with you my love...

I exhale, respire and I feel your warmth within.
Floating on the moonlight
Bathed in the glow of adoration, unadulterated fixation.

I am aware of my entirety.
Not only do I sense every single fiber of my being,
But I am enthralled by it. Sensual, concupiscent.

There is no admonishing, only inclusive consent.
Not from one another, but from within ourselves.
The blessing of permissive intuition.

Atonement, sustainable gratification.
With every breath drawn in…
impenetrable, inscrutable, unfathomable

Every question answered, every discovery made
Every unknown expelled along with the rush
It poured out of me like a river of fire.
From the valley between me flooded euphoria.

Moments to hours and heart beats to symphony.
It was alive, lucidity.
To experience what the majority can barely dream,
Together, repeatedly, and know…
If there were ever two hearts designed to beat together
they belong to us, and beat together now.
To attain this love is unheard of,
To realize that you have attained it


Rapture of euphoria . . . .

MINDFUCK

you will come to me remembering something safe
someone who held you, who comforted and soothed
sappy movie kisses and playful struggling

i may wear her skin and speak her language
but in search of a princess, you have uncovered a succubus
and i do not have use for a shining knight and his red roses
i want blood, and cum, and sacrifice
your struggles will be real

you will be stalked, captured, made prisoner
feel my claws dig in as i rip into your neck with teeth and nails
i smile as i imagine beating you until your golden skin is scarlet
burning you, watching your eyes grow wide as i drink the flames
i want you to not know how you became my pet
how you came to wear my collar around your neck
yet i want you trapped in a cage of sexual frenzy
your body may cry out for escaping my torture
but your heart must beg for the way i damage you

i lick my lips as i think of how i'd slide needles into your flesh
make you a user, make you crawl for what i give you
i want your knees bloody with desire to be at my feet
want you to need the sting of my redemption
i have a desire to hurt you past your limits
string you up by your piercings and bind you with pain
to make you scream "no more!" and start another round
until you cannot be sure that you'll make it through alive this time
and yet
and yet
you must be haunted by the need for it to never end
more than succumbing to my sadism
you have to want it

and when i grow weary of the games i play upon your skin
when the red glow of pain warms my hand as i trace your scars
all the flames, all the fury
i want you to return it all to me
energize me with your cock thrusting within
last resistance to be shattered as i clamp my thighs around your body
draw you deeper, farther, until you have lost your way
lost, yes; i want your eyes to reflect fear and lust interchangably
knife sweetly singing , cold steel against your throat
a softly whispered "i will kill you if you don't please me"
i want you to weep brokenly as you cum
give me all you have to offer
and more
so much more

i want to leave you naked, undone
tossed to the sand and left nothing but images and dreams
a shell to hold against my ear to listen to the sea
i will be the siren who tempted you into the waves
the one who let you drown

and you will not know it until later
will not see that i have sucked the toxins from your past
replaced them with my own
until your need for my whip consumes you
and you throw yourself at my alter as my offering
my prey

it's the pretty boys who make the loveliest slaves
the stubborn ones that look best
when they're on their knees
begging for my touch


and it's you i want





you


i'll have

　

　

THE REASON

You're the reason why I live,
the reason why I can not die.
The reason why every night
I dream of something that has your name,
the reason I can see everything in black and white
except for a blue horizon
You're the reason why am not perfect.
You are for me something without which life can not know.
You're the reason why I have always had only one true desire.

　

You ask me why I am so gentle to you . . . .
I said you are . . . . the even gentlest soul I have ever met.

SILENT PRAYER

i talked to god

he said:

don't think

just kiss

don't feel

just touch

don't love

just fuck.

and in silent prayer

we have the nerve to ask why.

GOOD MORNING!!

 
A new study to be presented at the Society for Experimental Biology meeting on June 30 has shown that caffeine boosts power in older muscles, suggesting the stimulant could aid elderly people to maintain their strength, reducing the incidence of falls and injuries.

article: http://medicalxpress.com/news/2012-06-caffeine-boosts-power-elderly-muscles.html

I WAS INK

I walked alone beneath the skies I was in tears and ink,
drawing my way uncertain signs among the weeds.
The rough road does not betray me.
Myriads of diamonds, disguised as stars, gave my heart to courage
and this subtle removal of all my sorrows at the same time made me feel grown wings.
Perhaps even more was I a pen,
marking its fleeting shadow on the earth's surface.

But while my head was not in my stars continued to materialize
in the mud a destiny which I felt it was not me who cares,
I followed him so he would become mine.
The night by killing the twilight had covered my flight,
the dazzling brightness of his dark blind: I was part without hesitation,
and without hesitation he should continue.

I was aimless, but equally devoid of starting point.
If I existed or not, I had no idea but it was not the point.
However that was, all remained: the fabric of the past did not exist,
that the future was a virgin and this was floating somewhere suspended between the two.

So I walked.
Around me,
no landscape is offered to the eye and everything seemed
to drown in a darkness that seemed endless.

Only above me,
distant and sublime stretched the sky and Milky Way.
I thought for a moment that the stars would have embroidered the way of my wandering,
but since I was still down here it was probably understand that I was wrong,
my way were to emerge and it probably started - but did he really begin? I like to think not, but I expected nothing; without optimism and without defeat,
I expected as a sign.

So dawn arising in golden butterflies and blood rose,
but for me there was monochrome an immense clarity.
I expected the fall but he did not come,


I cried and everything went white.