
I am longing for disturbing evening
Miserable floating in regardless owl weeping
Lost boy with lost path
Dying in the hands of wrath
I am longing for Your existance
But no one comes over
Except you the lost one like me
You're not Imogen
The one I need most.
Et ego petrarca in lingua vetera scribo
Selected Poems 1999 - 2002

Tuesday, September 20, 2011
No Retreat No Surrender
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
Open Road
To Percy B. Shelley
and to the people of Merapi, Mentawai and Wasior
Song of open road
Pretty lonely and cold
Am I pilgrim of underworld?
Weep not and be hold
Song of Necessity
Inside cloud of Fearful Symmetry
Is this land of poverty?
So many fights and mutiny
Song of revolution
Rebel, chaos and natural evolution
Polluted mind upon nations
Promotheus Unbound
Song of misery
In the land of prosperity
Filled with wounds, sorrow and agony
Do I feel so unlucky?
Song of open road
I am too old to spout blood
In the age of glowing gold
So weep not and be hold.
(1998/2010)
Monday, January 25, 2010
Not Always Straight is My Path
I am longing for disturbing evening
Miserable floating in regardless owl weeping
Lost boy with lost path
Dying in the hands of wrath
I am longing for Your existance
But no one comes over
Except you the lost one like me
You're not Imogen
The one I need most.
Et ego petrarca in lingua vetera scribo
Selected Poems 1999 - 2002
Monday, September 14, 2009
Kepada Perubahan
Berbahagia dalam sepi

Maka lemparkanlah kata kepada gelap
Dan biarkan pekat membelenggumu.
Tiada kuasa atasmu untuk beringsut
Dalam sabar dan keyakinan
Hingga Ibu melemparkan doa sayangnya
Dan memelukmu hangat.
Sendiri membuatmu yakin
Bahwa tidak ada yang abadi dalam kefanaan
Dan tidak ada fana dalam keabadian
Cerita ini akan meregangkan igamu
Hingga ke batas ketiadaan.
Carilah si tuna
Lalu lihatlah dirimu
SayangNya tentu melebihi apapun
Atas dirimu kini.
Berbahagialah dalam sepi.
Berbahagialah dalam sepi.
Dago, September 12, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Dago
Amazing Works
Romance, who loves to nod and sing
With drowsy head and folded wing
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been—most familiar bird—
Taught me my alphabet to say,
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child—with a most knowing eye.
Of late, eternal condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky;
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings,
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away—forbidden things—
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.
- Edgar Allan Poe