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#my words

“ I treasure all the words I’ve yet to say to you but that I feel in my heart for you. They lie here waiting to take form of poetry or song and fly from my chest to yours.”


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Rahasia kecil

Kepada dia yang diam-diam memperhatikan

Ada seulas senyum dari sepasang benda mungil berwarna merah jambu

Ingin rasanya memandangnya secara langsung

Hanya saja degup ini terlalu kencang

Hanya saja badan ini terlalu kaku

Hanya saja mata ini terlalu enggan untuk ditatap

Ada perasaan malu untuk menyapanya

Ada perasaan malu dekat dengannya

Apalagi sekedar muncul didepannya

Semoga saja ada keberanian suatu hari nanti

Entah sekarang,

Besok, ataupun nanti,

Bahkan lain kali.


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-What I’ve learned of fire-

The fire came that night

with a violent roar

angry and destructive


We could not fight it

We did not want to

Together we grieved

Alone we mourned

We watched it eat itself up

tearing through our lives

until only ash remained

We stood

arms linked

silent in the morning light

Tears washing the dirt from our

hands and faces

Staining our clothes

But we did not mind

And as we watched

life began anew

with open space to grow

Flourishing in a way it had been

unable to before

Godlike rebirth

Straight from the ash of that which


But no longer could be

A world torn apart

then recreated within the dust

that remained

And here we find ourselves standing

Once again watching our home burn

In all of that godly destruction

And the tears are for those who we have lost

And those who we are trying to save

Alone in the wreckage

but not forgotten

Waiting for life to begin again

That heavenly


Blessed rebirth

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They ask me why I look so sad,

Why my eyes look hurt and confused

And why I’m not happy anymore;

And I’m so tempted,

So tempted,

To scream and scream

Until all my words have ingrained themselves in their minds;

Until I’ve planted firmly the seed of rebellion and hope and refusal to accept things as they are

Because I’m baffled,



Do you not see the fire?

Is the heat not melting away your smile?

Yes, there are flowers and trees

And so many wonderful things

But I see the flames,

I see it about to burn everything pretty

Everything I love,

So I’m sad, and confused

Because I’m burning away

I’m just a speck here

I want to do things but I’m crushed under the weight of my own shortcomings,

I wish this sadness was enough,

To make tears

That put out the flames

I wish I could cry and cry

Until there’s nothing left to cry about.

The wildfire makes me sad,

It makes me feel a certain way

I want to scream

But I sit there like a rock,

I sit there and smile;

“I’m tired, that’s all.”


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Now I know I Had a Heart…

Because it’s missing.

“Frequently Used” emojis

Flushed the feels out of my system

Not long after you peeled out.

I don’t know what the word, “love,”

Looks like anymore

Though I still feel it.

According to my log

I’ve laugh-cried myself to death

Because it’s the only way

To falsify this pulse

When there are no hearts to be had.

Eyes pantomime the circulatory system

Tears mimic plasmic lubrication

For some salubrious amelioration

But bring no offerings for the dead

No honey for the veins

No rush of blood to the head

In return for what’s been siphoned

No satisfaction to the equation

Desalination does not beget salvation

And I can whine but I can’t win

For it’s bleat out or bleed out

Before long

And forgive these words but

I cannot sit idly by

While signs of life disappear


Maureen Armstrong @haikkun

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L’Amérique à l’écart, tout au bout du bout de l’Ouest. Ici personne ne va. On y croise le train, la poussière et quelques âmes à la dérive, des vans et des pick-ups hors d’âge, une berline bâchée. Comme je les aime, ces lieux que rien n’atteint et qui pourtant écument d’émotions brutes !    (juillet 1994  —  Okanogan, Washington State, USA)

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Never forget 1984 : when the Sikh genocide took place and one of the most holy places to Sikhs, the darbar shaib (India, Amritsar) was attacked.

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A lot of people I think have to play pretend to get through the day and I wish it didn’t have to be like that.

I guess that’s why if someone let me see a bit of their true selves, I smile like a geek.

My point is, it’ll be terrible at first, but in the end being yourself will make you feel a lot better.

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I gave you everything. My time, my energy, my everything. I would give you everything I had if that’s just going to make you stay with me. But… you left. You left as soon as you found someone better. You left me all alone. You told me lies and I believe it without any doubts. But then… you found someone better than me and you just left. You left without any doubts and now you asked me why I changed and what happened to me for me to be this way. Don’t you understand that what has been happening to me all along is you? @confessionsoflife // e.h

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PROJECT#4: Epitaph

If you’re going to die now, what do you want to be your epitaph? How do you want to be remembered by someone, by your loved ones? Maybe some of us has this kind of purpose in life: living your life to the fullest but also making a difference and leaving a mark in each person that you meet. Some of us want a a badass epitaph like, the coolest black sheep of the family. Or a sweet but short phrase: in loving memory of.. While others, chose poetry or literature. It cam be anything that may symbolize or remember you. Personally, if I’m going to choose my own epitaph, I want any of these words to be there: warmest hugs and all ears. Because I think that’s how I give my piece to everyone. By giving them warm hugs and big ears for comfort. That’s how they’ll remember me.

How about you? How do you want to be remembered? What will be your epitaph?

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i see angry people on the television armed for battle

why can these people be in charge of our lives?

why can these people be supposed to protect us?

when their eyes are lit with the same flames that ignite their weapons

i see peaceful people on the television pushed into war

how can these people be so loud and yet so unheard?

how can these people be so right and yet so ignored?

as they fight a battle with their bare hands against the people in power that should even be an argument

and when i see how my siblings with a different skin tone still have to fight against the angry people in power

and when i see how me and my siblings that don’t fit the right picture still have to fight against the angry people

it’s then that i wonder

am i a monster?

are you a monster?

were they monsters?

can a monster be afraid?

are you afraid?

i am afraid

they were afraid

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