way back when

I remember writing this a few years back. I even remembered it on the day of his funeral.

"The cafe was packed last night. People were everywhere, it did made me feel a bit suffocated. Am always bad with people. But I can't spend most of my time with myself. At least thats what they say, I honestly think I can though. And so there I was, agreeing to go to the movies with three of my coworkers. We had to wait nearly two hours for the show to start. Nothing else to do but sit down with a cup of hot chocolate and talk. Last nights topic turned out quite interesting. In what way will you dispose your corpse? Cremated or buried? One of them answered cremated. She said it was more practical, that she didn't want to burden the living by forcing them to come visit her grave and avoid more of her own grieve from six feet under whenever they forget. She prefers her ashes be scattered in the sea, which sea I can't recall.
The next one said he didn't have the luxury to choose. His must be buried, after stripped down and wrapped in cloth. But he did have things to be done about his grave, though. First, it must have a tomb of excellent taste, engraved with only his short name. Second, they who come to pay their respects should bring white flowers, preferably with a white on white outfit which turned out to be the dress code he'll be stating in his will as his last wish.
The topic went on. This time about the funeral. The former mentioned, the one with the graveyard dress code, said that he doesn't want weeping pathetic people on his last day on earth. Instead, he wanted the event to be more alive. Starting with the music as the background. No sad songs please, he pleads. And his pick was an upbeat song from Beyonce, the title escaped me, sorry. This selection of soundtrack of the day he'll die inspired the cremation girl to come up with one of her own. Kylie Minogue's I Believe in You. Then they started to sing the song, with the dance moves. I never thought the discussion of death could be that entertaining. And I am not being sarcastic here."

He would've wanted me to say goodbye gracefully, not with hysterical cries or so-not fabulous swollen eyes.

Farewell, dear friend.
We love you.
Pardon my tears for not being able to stop falling. I still can't at times..

black waters

cliffs surrounding the blackened waters shrieked of detestation..

their frostings jagged... threatening to sever..
distinctively clashing with those silky dark liquids
which secretly preserves somber enigma... deep and aphotic...
concealed by layers of wave... endlessly layered by the other..
as if discouraging each esoteric code that wished to reach the shore

what becomes of those opaque fluids in my dream?
such thick waters as if ink...
discarding all colors on that moonlit evening..
only embelished by gliterring sparks that dances on its surfaces..
swaying seductively.. precariously..

i once saw someone courageously plunge in to it..
the blackness swallowing his glowing skin..
i swore he became fluorescent inside its depths..
almost reaching the equivocal ocean floors..
yet swim he can not.. swept away by muscular currents..
til he was sucked through a cavity in a wall..
that separates the blackened waters from the clearer ocean sea..
where he came to float in despair..

what was he doing..
trying to conquer those no mans waters..
even i just watched it from a distance..
blending among the rocks..
admiring with fright.

*many thanks to abby hidayat for the image :)

dead, yet again

i walk the grounds of death, yet again.
reminiscing living days that once were,
as memories shout from deep within these graves,
of birth, of sparks, that crave the beginning.

lucid still is the first moonlight that nurtured our frail hearts,
or the premier glow that blinds my sight from the crowd.
yet useless are hopes of bright neon grass,
for these carpets of earth will forever stay as it is,
persistently green,
with roots steadily planted through solid soil.

but then comes dark.
when all colors agree in one shade,
ignoring the true hues of our universe,
as thin yet superior layers of black
captivates what was once vibrant.

i walk further through these grounds,
searching for the remains of our bodies,
questioning the undeniable past.

like the rest before us,
did we just die?

mirror image of mine

i see you just to find myself.
eyes so terrestrial from my own,
yet peculiarly stares at the same dark walls.
strange how we never tire of peeling its layers,
in search of even the lightest shade of grey,
the shade every others ignorantly gaze at without even trying.
visions of common reality

i hear you just to listen to myself.
words richly plain but gallantly builds up into a horrific empire of thoughts,
beautifully orchestrated like rows of fragile dominoes,
tapping each others shoulders until it ends as a spectacle of ruins,
bowing down to a higher state of meaning.
voices of the unspoken.
mute but absolute.

i touch you just to feel myself.
skin still young but bruised by silent cuts of bitter fate,
veins dangerously visible by poisonous streams of yester years,
longing strokes soothing enough to the pore,
yet massive enough to penetrate a constructed core.
scarce is this touch.
so settling to a mere resemblance is not necessarily an act of desperation,
for it creates an adequate high,
and makes a warrior out of us as we declare battle against gravity,
resisting the lowest lows and refraining from the shrillest highs,
this war of being satisfied with adequacy is private.
best kept inside.

i discover your confession just to find my secrets.
thoughtfully separating certain pieces from the whole panoramic truth,
to float in delightful uncertainty,
a mystery established neither by lies nor deceit,
merely untold.
purposely forgotten to embark upon new memories,
a silent journey with blindfolds on,
to escape those hopeful stares from outdated flame,
once generating our little universe to a state of ecstasy
and now leads our actions by their invisible strings.
is there light after light?
or do we forever seek for fresh spark
and darkness is simply an illusion we fabricate?
speculate what we may, for we are just corresponding pieces,
intersected to align a twisted simulacrum of existence.

did i just see a mirror image of me?
queer as it may be,
i don't need to think of you as mine,
for i am you.
or are you me?
divided from one fraction, shredded into two pieces,
dissected into countless bits of flakes of our presence,
knitted in sync as our minds copulate in a future-less space.

...

“He who does not understand your silence
will probably not understand your words.”

Elbert Hubbard

compassion for the distorted sun

i sat outside greeting the invasion of dusk, with heavy wind splattering my already disheveled hair into further chaos. my hands ignored the mayhem, letting strands of hair whip my frosting facial skin. then i inhaled. bitterness lingers in my tongue, still awkward with the taste that i left weeks before. but, it gradually blends in with the more sour sensation stipulating inside my chest. i deliberately allowed the ballad caress my ears with sweet memories. surprisingly its melody still present a pounding effect on the heart. it always does.

i try to push back the tears that attempt to drench my cheeks, questioning the agitation from within. never have i regretted being myself this much. causing grieve to numerous souls, ones closest to the heart, one so dear and particularly adore. has vile rooted in me too deep? polluting my ways of affection? for they shout and plea, insisting to end the torture they admit is tainted by me.

sorrow starts to swell from the core, growing slowly but faithfully with immense vigor and eventually spreads with even proportions until it reached every single pore. i shivered and tried to calm down my skin, greatly wishing it was only the wind. the gravity of sadness cast my head down, giving me a clear view of the sun peeping through marching clouds mirrored by the tile beneath my feet.

its fainting rays try to fight the blocking cumulus, making its way through creaks of the thick blanket of dark cotton. as if desperately trying to convince the earth that it will always burn even though soon night will surely arrive. it must retreat, without the slightest shame of its prior doings from the break of dawn, giving way to the faithful dark whenever the world turns it head. but it silently maintains its fierce flame, hoping with all its might that it wasn’t misunderstood. forces of nature was everything there is to it. never will it fully admit its defeat each time its warmth lessens just to allow rain feed the ground. it meant no harm by the drain it caused when it let its guard down over angry thunders and lightning. never did it intend to punish whenever it increases its heat til the earth boils red with perspiration. and it certainly isn’t trying to hide and purposely compose murky air each time vast clouds rushes beneath.

the tune continue to tease my fragile state as abundant of thoughts came rushing through. i slowly gathered what is left of my ruined heart, forced to erect my face to the faint light that still persists although the sun is now nowhere in sight and started to serenade a silent prayer. shall there be more compassion to the distorted sun. shall there be willingness of the earths damp flesh to be soaked by the downpour. shall there be courage of the parched soil to bask in glaring temperature. shall there be conviction of the moist ground to indistinct atmosphere. shall there be faith of the undying fire, for the sun forever burns. it always will. it always have been. it just needs to find a new day.

candycane rainbow

i had a vision in slumber,
waking at the berth of an edge.
sleepily realizing a sudden thirst
for an enchanting yet myth-like landscape that stretches ahead.
whispering, inviting

the creamy sheets below promising poise,
then impetuously becomes amiss.
my hands reached out for the forest of abundant perplexity,
unsatisfied—never is—with certainty.

layers of colors fly before me
startling my safely tucked toes under the covers,
which with surprising impulse gives posture to my outstretched figure.
standing curiously before the peculiar spectacle,
the glowing hues starts an unexpected dance,
teasing me, luring me.

with eyes wide with awe,
a smile escapes me.
yet only that smile followed the candycane rainbow,
for my two feet is steadily planted at the edge of the cliff.
still