Related quotes: Empty path of the Halmahera...

Empty Path

Empty path of the Halmahera Guest House
Throughout of oldtime
As old as the dust attached on the door leaf
Old dust attached on the wall
And dark room
Where painting laid
From the mad life
Throughout the cantings
In the room corner
When my soul cried
Fighting to myself
fighting alone interpreting the dream

in the old well
the old man catch chiken
and drinking black wine
eat some rice
with the black lips
where nicotin and bear aroma
smell around his face
in the old well
cried his brokenlove

where I am alone
sat on the rattan chair
smell of
the naughty wind blowing
fall of some old bamboo leaf
opened the envelope
contens of pray and word
love disappointment
cut through all the word

Bogor 12 Desember 2001

poem by Prasetya Utama
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The Old Rattan Chairs

When I received that letter
I sat on an old rattan chair
Under the Yellow Bamboo tree
Where its leaf flyingdown on the frontyard
Of my guesthouse
And I don’t bother of whoever back and forth in front of me

I know the opening and contents sentences of word by word
Because I know her during sevenyears
Since the second years of senior high school
Till finishing the bachelor arts on Pagelaran,
The streets of Sosrowijayan, a cross to the Tugu Station, and than through
Bumijo, Gowongan kidul, till front of autocar-services
There is a house number 48, Gowongan Lor,
Leaving out of carved our breath
From the house lizard story as a symbol of could bad happens
To the realities of fact that my father were dying
At the hospital till deadly ceremony

Night before burial
I smell your aromatics cheek
And the smell of fromalin of my fathers corpse
In the silentnight
when the bell church clang in the town
and the voice grandpa Iman call to prayer
flowing in the deep of my heart
mixing with the smell of smoke incense
to stings of my chest

when my father gone
my lobe grown up in my heart
dying and love were attached each-other
when we walk to our destiny
on the seedling field
which brought in the dream
when we slept with ours-couple

that shadow always grown up in my minds
through the papers start yellow colloring
because it was a long time to settle/precipitate in my memory
always sprout to become my dreams
grown early the morning, morning, or midnightnight,
through lonelyness which hangdown on my shoulder
to bears all my trouble
while run and run
till finish line of my destiny

dedicated to Elizabeth Purwanti
Bogor,24/10/05

poem by Prasetya Utama
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Like A Leaf

i will pass this world
like a blown leaf
to the north by the south winds
there will be abrupt changes
just the ripening of the life
of a leaf
from green to yellow
to orange and then to gray
to dryness crumpling
into dust

who will not be dust?
we all are
but all of you are leaving traces
like a footstep
a child a parcel of land
a will

how can i make some traces
on the path of the
wind?

there shall be none
for a whisper has no bars to hold on
a sound has no box to stay
a spoken word
has no room for sleeping.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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This Room

Your sweet smell of an aroma is all over this room and,
You are the river flowing into my heart;
And like the cocoa from Ivory Coast with a sweet taste,
You are all that i need in this room.
Come and make love to me and,
Let me bear you children;
For your sweet smell of an aroma is all over this room.
This room is made for you and i,
This room will surely take us to the skies!
For you love is the only one needed in this room.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Song

I came to the door of the House of Love
And knocked as the starry night went by;
And my true love cried "Who knocks?" and I said
"It is I."

And Love looked down from a lattice above
Where the roses were dry as the lips of the dead:
"There is not room in the House of Love
For you both," he said.

I plucked a leaf from the porch and crept
Away through a desert of scoffs and scorns
To a lonely place where I prayed and wept
And wove me a crown of thorns.

I came once more to the House of Love
And knocked, ah, softly and wistfully,
And my true love cried "Who knocks?" and I said
"None now but thee."

And the great doors opened wide apart
And a voice rang out from a glory of light,
"Make room, make room for a faithful heart
In the House of Love, to-night."

poem by Alfred Noyes
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The Sebokarang Villages

Every evening
I always go to the Sebokarang villages
bike to break through the twilight
In the Bamboo threes
and the field of sugar plantantion
its flower blossom, yellow and
to bend in the street
to be fenced in kembang sepatu
and than turn to her hause
the wall of her house made from teakwood
and around her house planted
The Ceplok Piring flowers

in front of the door of her houses
I knocked its with my thremble fingers,
With my thremble heart
Where my blood flow fastly

The evening wind
Blowing softly
And start to be darkness
Its covering the leaf
Eat the tree near the street
Where the people pass and through
So cat run to catch the mouse
the mouse jump
To the path of the villages
I fell loneness
in front of the door
waiting for you
open the door

when the door opened
the light of petromax lamp is lighting
to my eyes wonder
of your smile
from the red lips

open, just open the door
the door of your heart
again and again
till I could stay
in the wide room of your heart
forever

poem by Prasetya Utama
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Each Word Each Existence

to an honest man
each word
has an existence

a name of a friend
is golden

a word has weight
like stone

even air has a weight
of its own

no word is empty
and there is no emptiness within

on the power of our
imaginations

green to leaf
leaf to freedom

air, and sighs
glances and love

death and dust
oblivion to light fading

darkness as blanket
covering us to sleep

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shattered windows, Colors of white

Across the street is a new house with a room painted red, with no holes of white.
Next to me, a house purple, with its color pealing off, with holes of black and white
At the end of the street, an old house once yellow, what now remains white.
The sound of a hammer building a house, entering a place with a color unknown.

On the street,
Windows covered with ice
Some shine with light.
Some broken
Some fixed
Some lost, out of sight.

A house, two blocks from here.
Shines with lights of yellow, red, and green everywhere.
A wall keeping the wind from blowing anywhere.
The house next door, at the dawn of the day.
Paints its room black, and peals the color away.

The wall crumbles.
The wind blows across the colors of yellow, red and green
Breaks all the windows.
Turns the yellow to blue, red to black, and green to white.

The house two blocks away.
Adds a line of yellow red and green everyday.
To allow the house of blue, black and white to shine for us some day.

poem by Linda ErikssonBique
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Like a leaf in the wind

Her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind

Clinging on to tree of life

With nothing more than hope

Devoid of pretense

Shorn of desires

Tossed about, at the whim of a gathering storm

Dark cold has slowed the sap

But deep inside, life fights to surge through

Longing for the next sunny day

When the sap will ease through fluid pathways

Until then, her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind

On a high branch she clings alone

While the other leaves huddle

Warm in their numbers

Sheltered in low branches

Wondering how she has lasted so long

While her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind

When the storm blows harder,

She sometimes feels close to giving up

And sinking quietly to the ground below

Returning to dust, from where she arose

But something in her refuses to let go

While her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind

So come wind, come storm,

Blow as you might

She will cling on to the tree of life

This lone leaf will fight.

poem by Anita Atina
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