MONDAY MORNINGTime's hands dug tomb at yard
for the man taking his life, because
the sun's cost was more expensive
than the rainbow's
MY SON DREW CATThe cat my son had drawn
It face was his, after
Stealing his mother’s fried salt fish
from her plate
AFTER MAKING LOVE WITH NIGHTToday, it's waste of coffee in the cup
and the worst dream
Fried by the sun
THE CLOUDED MORNINGBy telephone someone told
:"Your mother has left old station
No waving hand and words!"
THE MACHINE MOUSE’S DEATHStruck against the truck, the machine-mouse
His blood that flew on the street
: As smile as farmers' sweat
MY QUEEN AND MY SUNThe eyes my queen's
: A couple of silver dews
When made love to my sun
THE MAN IN THE SUNSShot by a time's arrow
the man's heart was burnt
by the suns
BEFORE SLEEPINGIn the refrigerator
the sun kept
freezing as a time bomb
TAKING LIFE IN THE CLASSFrom the teacher's blackboard
26 letters and 10 figures jumped
into my son's head
Lying in thousands viruses
LOVE IRose and thorn
making love on the vase
GAMBLEROpening the second heart '10 card
After the first king
The gambler tore all
On his last death's table
BESIDE THE POOLMy son threw a little stone into the pool
creating much wave of power. But
He had been lost his shadow of dreams
IN THE OLD NIGHTAs a best night's friend
the poet buried his dream for all stars
into the poetry dug as a tomb
before the sun would kill him again
in the other fighting
CHILDREN STUDIED DRAWING IN THE CITYAll buildings the children had drawn in the city
: their tombstone of death, after
they were killed by the teachers
in a slaughter school
PLAYING GUITARit has fallen in love, the man
Plays guitar up to the highest scale
Bringing about one of its broken strings
tore to rags his heart
LOVE II The black pool the man's house
Where you'd come into it
as a white lotus
MY SON AND HIS PCIn front of the PC, my son peeped at his God
Beyond the perforated windows
:"He sings love, whilst
Drinks off some bottles of Vodka, Dad!"
My son had been angry, since
the peeped God wasn't as great as the praised
in his grandfather's old Holy Script. Then
He put thousands macros into the PC, so that
the godliness would be killed intelligently
THE SCULPTURE OF STONEThe sculpture of stone the man
Had no dream again, for
His head was been sawn by time
as a nicest thieve last night
MY ROOM FRIEND IN AFTERNOONIn the room all hands of o'clock
Hunted the little boy drooping beside steel door
Locked by his father having work for a day
PARANGBOLONG IN EVENINGDiving into the sea, the sun
Put on a couple of golden fins
and swam to fishers' fish-hook
: Those metropolitan men being hungry to love
FOLDING SUNThe sun the man folded once more
: Its heat was hell
Created by him to be greatest king's crown
for queen from misty empire
: The heaven of heart
MY SON AND THE POOLMy son threw a little stone
into the pool creating its arrogance
"Dad, I don't have my shadow again"
THE CLIMBER’S PRAYIf I've been climbed on your mountain
Of course, you won't want the wind
Putting out my flag
but the signal you give forever
through its language of fire
THE DAILY BOOKI
No leaves I look at
Making green for the earth
The sun is my daily enemy
II
Like the earth I miss sun
The man who will change
Revenge to be love
III
The window I shall open
Your heart having been closed
When the love changes to be dog pound
IV
The sun you see
The love that gives honey
By his fire burning your soul
V
Coffee you put on the table
Your love of all loves, after
We have made love in this night
VI
Taking all of dreams on the bed
Up to sleeping is as a nicest space, when
Night has been fulfilled by rainbows
VII
What long I have wait you
The dearest in my nice dream crashed
By wind when the morning comes
VIII
Seeing wave in the chest
She is an ocean teaching me
About mysterious of love
IX
The sun flowing on day’s river
Being like her burning my frozen hope
After the night the ocean of ice
X
The rainbow that makes colorful curve
Like gate in which I shall come into
The stupid jokers’ house
XI
The blue sky the poem of love
She creates for me
When the sun shall come back
To his night bed
XII
No ones I have caught
All of them pass like wind
But my heart can feel about
XIII
Being back to your home
After going around the time
As watch’s hands which wants
To stop at the end point of 00.00
XIV
Candle stirring up the desire of love
Makes you sad, when the night
Just the clot of silence is
XV
Opening the cover of daily book
When you want to stay for a moment
Visiting to the forgotten love’s home
XVI
Nothing I know where the wind comes from
Going too far no saying goodbye, after
Putting out candle’s flame in the visiting room
THE DAYTIME'S DOWNPOUR(Short Letter for Tukoku Kamei)Under the sky the arousing timpani of thunder
The Rain's gratings were her curving fingers
Playing the violin of defeat
For all dreams about the deteriorating sun
Buried no strewn flowers, but
Sadness the rain played on old tins
Felt by her it was the triangle
Pouring its tears out
From the deepest hurt heart
To twilight where the day
Closing its black screen
FOR POET WHO BURNS THE GOD'S HOLY BOOK(for Mathori A. Elwa)We'd witnessed
The poet burnt the god' script
By way of the raging egoism
On the past big wok
Dwarf men dancing
Went all around the big wok, while
Sang for poet's victory
On one dream as the god of gods
After the fire was out
And they began to be tired for dancing
The poet webbed for the sake of shortcomings
Bought by no poetry's purchasing power
As the witness
I'd written it more
The poet took his life
By way of his revenge's fire
MY SON AND ZIDANMy son asked for plastic ball
"I dream to be Zidan, dad"
At my home yard -- as wide as bathroom
Under Zidan he trained playing soccer
"Don't be him honored as the greatest king
In gold bird's cake, when His brittle feet
aren't powerful for just one goal!"
At the soccer's field -- as wide as Senayan
My son who was a little referee
Stabbed Zidan's heart by red card
The super star was dead in long sadness
My son asked for individual ball
"Dad, I'll play soccer without him
In the prison which was wider than world."
TERBOYO TERMINAL IN THE EARLY MORNINGSuddenly, the bus visiting at terminal
Just spreading seeds of desire. But
Why did the dark sky cry for bus' howls
Going down one by one?
THE OLD CITY STATIONThe old city' station you'd left behind
It was just as man's bed, after
Fighting to the sun
As fate as the singing beggar you sang about tears
On the rock which hadn't been finished for a day yet. But
When the new station had been in front of eyes
The hell your face, then
Would you still wrote poems above all dreams
Created by the train trip
THE KILLED MECHANICAL MOUSEOn the street of the center city
The mechanical mouse had been killed
Her heart was broken by police's bullet
The men having a head of wild boar
But her mouth' spittle the fragrance of farmers' sweat
The people flowing love more
As clear as river's water under green hill
To the farms burnt by the dry season' sun
The mechanical mouse had been dead
No ceremony, flower, candle, prayer, tear
And terrible news written by news papers
Cause the death had been a common case
In this country known well
As God's empire. But
It would be recorded in the books of poetry
UNDER THE WAVING FLAGThe waving flag of the old building
It was like an eagle forgotten by wind's fingers
Whose wings scratched for the red sky forever
Up to the color of twilight the country
Burnt by fire put out from its owners' heart -- the ones
Singing "Indonesia Raya" in all together. But
Their sound the hoarse trumpet's
Blown in the new years
Under the flag whose waving spirit
It Never reflected their ancestors' desire
Postingan
