Sokka (part 1)

Enslaved by his pride
A little pup seeks an adventure
Manhood, warrior, and bride
The boy boldly gets his departure

In every day, in every night
His eyes longing for the moon
One bright smile put up a fight
Kicking ass, stumbled in a cocoon

Facing a distinct, warm truth
Now manhood is long gone
The first trial of his youth
It’s not all about brawn

Reaching the same, yet different base
This little pup tastes his first kiss
But the fire wiped out his jolly face
No bride— howling in a lost bliss

His heart stays, journey carries on
Arrived as a mature wolf, he glimpses
At a reflection that no longer be fond
Is he a true warrior as what it seems?

Malang, 12 December 2020



As I raise my hand
No more fireworks exclaim
It’s quiet, all bland
This— these will never be the same

It’s like a festivity
Yet, without music or dance
Just clown and gravity
Unable to make a stance

I always wonder,
why there’s ‘fun’ in funeral?
And now I have to rhyme this ‘wonder’
Am I trying to be philosophical?

Perhaps I just can’t read
A tiny fish in a vast ocean
Holding poise to concede
In the face of culmination

Malang, 11 December 2020


310: Part III


Dense broth’s smell draw my attention
Lanterns, paints, fretwork dangling around
The Japanese style bought my satisfaction
Our footsteps guided by a sublime sound

Brought to us from Marugame
Two bowls of udon placed upfront
Seasoned by your presence per se
Calling memories that we’ve done

Two schotel torn my mind apart
Eggs and meats build up my bravery
Hot porridge melts in my heart
Yet, her lovely kiss holds the best savory

As the last spoon serves empty bowls
Three-days journey comes to an end
Edelweiss guarding these two souls
Holding hands, try to make a mend

Time’s arrows move swiftly like a milkfish
With no mercy, the train calls her prey
When someday He grants my last wish
We will meet again as we shout hooray!

Semarang, 7 September 2020


310: Part II


Inside a white wall and wooden story
He feels a funeral in his brain
Quietly reciting an unsung story
Queer euphoria rushing in his vein

He finds it dainty, simple, topical
Yet, he digs her special dish
Like seeking an answer to an oracle
In every chew, the poet sends his wish

Her kind smile every time he’s awake
Cries and giggles in their countless hue
Wise advice in the midst of earthquake
Also, a merry future in one plate for two

One day, before her special day
He feels a funeral in his brain
Praying his uncertainty drifts away
And only tomorrow will remain

Semarang, 6 September 2020


310: Part I


A sweet call coming to my phone
Delicate, seems close to my ears
A small proof that I’m not alone
Wiping all my worries and fears

When the ships ashore
Our eyes catch each other
Those are the eyes I adore
In my heart, I don’t need another

In my arms, I hold her close
Curling like a playful little pup
Giving me an oxytocin dose
Keeping my hopes up

Mesmerizing scene as far as I see
Feels like soaring above the third floor
Holding hands and leading me
Way ahead the thousand doors

In the mean time, it’s all thanks to You
I finally find home where I can go to

Semarang, 5 September 2020



A quirky poet before his messy notes
Waiting patiently for a second chance
Words gather around, using their votes
Marching on, in the name of romance

Yet, the poet finds his pen petrified
No single ink holds the perfect road
To bridge the concept, makes them typified
To define a feeling, being showed

Moon after moon are floating away
Still, the words mumbling back and forth
Discussing which would they say
Till they realized the time is now short

Soon the poet closes his very sight
Recalling, how she offered her hand
Her voice shares an enthusiastic delight
Thrilling, like her magic book from Thailand

Her eyes declare what needs to be told
Her ears lifting up his loneliness
Her smile gleams brighter than gold
Her heart is braiding faithfulness

Slowly, phrases cleave the way to her lips
Land lines and rhymes to her fancy waist
Every letter will do anything to take a sip
Engrave his stanza in her without a haste

There, where he’s eventually aware
The paper embraces anything he needs
Guiding his soul to a final dare
To be enamored by the Princess indeed

Happy birthday, my dearest princess.
Malang, 2 September 2020


Ode to a Quarter

Everyone adores & loathes finite things
Minutes, hours, years, season, decade
One after another, flying without wings
Dropping, dripping, flowing like a cascade

Twenty five revolutions grasped in hand
Eagerly walk in the middle of tragedy
Embracing crisis as an old friend
Pouring it all in a finite rhapsody

Everyone adores & loathes finite things
Now it ends and we charge to begin anew
Yet before all that, let the poet swings
I wish you well and happy birthday to you

Malang, 27 April 2020



Washing your hands is an illustration
Of our way to run indirect collaboration
Rushing against the outbreak
Limiting our regular handshake
Dauntlessly charge the virus annihilation

Malang, 21 March 2020



Once I put the words on a microscope
To seek the molecule inside of it
I say to drop a mouse without a rope
And you watch her probe her way out of it

Or walk along the way of its stanza
Going blindly and feel the hidden door
Maybe you’ll stumble into bonanza
And dig out our new journey to its core

Set a sail of your cruise on its surface
Should watch out for the unexpected bore
Start your first day from title and preface
And then greet the author’s name on the shore

In fact, we just want it to spill the beans
To torture and know what it really means

Malang, 20 March 2020



When I first met you
I didn’t have a clue
That you collect the moment
of my parents’ amazement

All I did was crying out loud
Yet it made my parents proud
You drive me to a safe shelter
A pinch of sweet and bitter

I’m surprised you have many names
Wrapping all mnemonic in frames
Sometimes people never recall
That you’re there in elastic crawl

But yeah, maybe we all are just we
All-forgetting wight as we might be
Part of me wants to write you in diary
Yet we stopped by monster called adultery

Maybe if I could know when
You’ll whisper me now and then
To put a smile before our deadline
To say, I think it’s time, I’ll be fine

Malang, 19 March 2020