Moving Notification

Due to one and another reason, I'm making another blog. This new blog is designed especially for posts in English. Meanwhile, this blog--Lilalily--will be in Bahasa Indonesian. So, most of posts in English in this old blog will be exported to the new one.

The name of my new blog  is Purple Nook. It's actually an old name; I've ever used it for this blog before I chose Lilalily as a new name. Now that I'm making the new one, I can't resist not using it again. I love this name.

This new blog is not fully maintained, but hope you are pleased to dropping by and taking a little look in this new nook. Here's the Purple Nook.

Happy blogging... :)

The Courtesy of the Wooden Mask

Photo Courtesy of Tess Kincaid

This beautiful wooden mask
hanging on the wall of your past

It never once betrays you or me or us
for it only shows the real face of itself
not the real you or me--
not the real us

Now that you and me
want to see each other--
the real us
we're suddenly in doubt, worried
for we may betray
the courtesy of the wooden mask!



*Note:
Written for Magpie Tales #74

The Broken House

Raspy whisper of wind is still rumbling
through a house fallen into a ruin
one night storm made it rubble--
salient proof of fall.
I now rare to know,
if resiliency
will rummage
the broken
house!






*Note:
This Nonet is written for One Stop Poetry. 
Nonet is a form of a poem with a total of nine lines. The first line must have nine syllables, second line eight syllables, third line seven syllables and so on until you end with one syllable.

You Can't Grow a Tree in a Kitchen

You can't grow a tree in a kitchen

on a dining table made of glass

for a tree needs to grow its root

deep down rooted in the earth

You can't grow a tree in a kitchen

where the sun is blocked to enter

for a tree needs shafts of sunlight
to make a food in its green leaves

You can't grow a tree in a kitchen

but you don't believe me and listen

the smile in your face make me worry

for it will turn to be angry and gloomy

as the tree will soon be weary

You can't grow a tree in a kitchen

but you don't believe me and listen

as well as you won't understand

that we should sometimes be kind

to let something go for peace of our mind

You just can't grow a tree in a kitchen

but you don't believe me and listen...

*Note:

This post is written for Thursday Short Story Slam Week-5 Children's Literature. Photo is taken from this website.
Besides, I also submit this post for Thursday Poets Rally Week 48. 


***

Update:


It's surprising that I have won The Perfect Poet Award of Week 48. 
The following is my award. Thank you for the award, Poets Rally.
Find my Haiku for the award picture as follows... :)

***

The Summer is Ready 


dandelion clocks fly free 
as light breeze blows gently 
Oh, summer is ready!


***


I vote for Cherlyn!




*

I See This Girl and Guy

This picture is a work of Bonnie.

I see this girl, a particular girl
standing in a corner of this gallery:
she looks so worried or weary
I can tell it from the swing of her earrings from pearl

I see this guy, a guy in all black
I can't tell how he looks or feel
he just seems so amazed he stands still
in front of the big painting of black

I suddenly realize it
this girl can't take off her eyes from the guy in a black
who can't take his eyes off the painting of black

I then wondered, but please forgive me for this thought:
if this is a story of love triangle in a modern world--
between a girl, a guy, and this guy's beloved artwork.





*Note:
This poem is written for Friday Poetically with Bryan Miller who provided three artworks of her friend, Bonnie, to be picked one as an inspiration of writing a poem.
Thanks to Bryan and Bonnie for this week's prompt... :)

In This Little Summer House

In this little summer house

I sit still and browse

through the vast field of wheat

remembering how we first met

The big yellow sun shines 

the birds sing in the far pines

I listen to their voice

giving me such strenght to rejoice

How much I miss you, how could I tell?

You're just so far away, I couldn't trace your tale

*Note:
This post is written for Mag 72 by Magpie Tales.

The Sad-Looking Stranger

I could only wonder:
What's there crisscrossing your mind
I believe it's not that clear as the plain water,
but black as the umbrella in your hand

I could only stare:
What's there in your look
It seems you long forget how to smile
no strange you look so crook

If only I could take a look to your mind
as easy as I open and see inside your big blue bag
maybe I could give you my hand
to find soon your lost luck back!

* Note:
This post is written for Writing Exercise (Monday, 4th July) for Creative Writing Ink.

My Phobia and You

Yes we know exactly that I'm phobia of heights. Acrophobia, they call it. So, it's not a secret that I will avoid doing anything which will trigger my phobia. I hate balcony. I avoid looking through the window glass from a room in a second floor, not to mention in a 13th floor and so on. There's no strange that I hate apartment. I prefer spending more hours trip by bus to travelling by airplane. That's why I've never gone that far, unlike you, the most adventurous man and passionate backpacker I've ever known. Maybe, this is one reason of why I fall in love with you. People say we tend to fall in love with ourselves that we see in others, but apart from that we tend also to fall in love with someone who will complete us as persons.

I don't know where you are right now. The last postcard I received from you telling me that you are somewhere in Asia. You said you fall in love to the beautiful scenery around you, the fresh air, the singing of birds you hear every morning, the tropical atmosphere, the local ladies, etc. You even wished that you could live there with me for the rest of your life. You also said that you can't wait to do climbing in the near mountain the next day. You showed me the track you will pass to that mountain; it is in the postcard picture. This bridge--I even couldn't believe people call this frail piece of wood and rope as a bridge--will lead your way to the mountain and find the climbing spot.

The last line you wrote was a joke saying that next time I should pass this frail bridge to get me you. Smile emoticon. Full stop. Your name.

It has been two months since I received your postcard. You've never made me this long waiting and wondering your story of where you are now, what you feel, where your next heading or plan, the local food and girls, what you do to get some money, how you get lost and find new adventure, how was the rock climbing, etc.

This postcard is the most read since one month ago, although I suffer from a headache and I always tremble every time I see the picture. And those symptoms are getting worse when I read your last line words.

***

I don't know what happen to me this morning. When I stared at the bridge, I felt like I will be able to pass this bridge for you. I felt no more headache, trembling or nausea. Yes, for the first time in my life: I want to pass this bridge, a frail bridge. This thought made my blood rushed faster. I will be able to go by plane. Maybe I need to meet psychiatrist first, but it's not a big problem. I've never this brave; I will try my best to pass it, if this bridge really could get me to you.

But, how could I know that you are there waiting?




*Note:
This post is written for the Writing Exercise by Creative Writing Ink.

The Vacation of Two Angels

Black Angel    :      Do you think somebody will notice that we're angels in disguised?

White Angel   :      We're too old for angels. 

Black Angel    :      Ha..ha...ha...

White Angel   :      Just don't let somebody see our faces.

Black Angel    :      Okay, White. I will listen to your words today. I won't let them.

White Angel  :      But actually, I'm wondering if this is weird to have an umbrella in this beautiful twilight. I'm afraid this umbrella will attract somebody's attention

Black Angel  :    That's okay. People can stand weird strangers more than beautiful angels. It's more dangerous to stand here without umbrellas. They will notice our strangely beautiful and magical faces trapped in old-ladies' bodies.

White Angel   :       Ha...ha... You need to train your magic, so next time, we won't look this weird.

Black Angel     :      Alright. If there's next time. We will be young and beautiful ladies by the seashore.

White Angel   :       Great. I've never known that you can be a good company.

Black Angel     :      Hey, what does it mean, then?!

White Angel  :     You know what, I do enjoy this one-day vacation. Though, still, it's just ironic to spend holiday with an eternal enemy. But I have to admit that I enjoy your company. You can be such nice angel. I hope it will last longer.

Black Angel   :      What will last longer; this holiday or my good behavior? I don't want to think that this holiday has made you forget that we're born as an enemy. You are the good and I'm the evil. It's violation to destiny to change that fact. 

White Angel  :       Don't start an argument, please. Can we just be friend for one day? It's a blessing that God let us to have a little rest. Why don't we enjoy it?

Black Angel    :       Okay, sorry. Hmmm... it's unbelievable I say sorry.

White Angel   :       Black...

Black Angel    :       Okay, White. Okay, as you wish. 

(Silent)

Black Angel    :      Look! The sky is getting redder now. Beautiful, right?

White Angel   :      Yeah, so beautiful. I can't wait to see the sun sets in the vast ocean.

Black Angel    :      Me, too. Well, if I may say the truth, I will never forget today's sunset ever! 

White Angel   :      So do I. It's the best and most beautiful sunset I've ever seen.

Black Angel    :      Don't say that it is because of my company. Huh?

White Angel   :      Ha...ha... I have to say--well, yes... It's one of the reasons.

Black Angel    :      Oh no, I don't like this kind of scene.

White Angel   :      Oh come on, Black... 

Black Angel    :      Yeah, whatever...

White Angel  :       Black, I know it maybe sounds weird to you...; If in the next coming days we're involved in hard battles, can we remind each other about today? So... umm...--I mean...--we shouldn't that hard fighting.

Black Angel    :      What?! What an idea! Do you think I'm stupid? You're trying to make me giving up easier! Unbelievable!

White Angel   :       Black, please... I never think that way. I just hope that you don't that hard on human... on  yourself…

Black Angel    :       So you could win more battles...

White Angel   :       Black! Oh okay, it's my fault! It's so stupid to expect the good Black in an extraordinary day like today, let alone in normal days.

In the meantime, the big red sun slipped into the ocean.

Black Angel    :      Beautiful, huh?

White Angel   :      Yeah... I feel so happy and sad at once seeing this sunset...

Black Angel    :      Well, I feel the same. 

White Angel   :      ...

Black Angel    :      Why starring at me that way? I'm a born evil, White. We have to remember this.

Note:
This post is written for Writing Exercises by Creative Writing Ink.

long long road to walk

long long road to walk
high trees barricade the path
my shadow hides deep

Where Am I?

Then, I come to this place
where birds are too lazy to sing
to welcoming morning,
where grasses are not dancing that gayly
in catching the weary wind

Finally, I arrive in this place
where I know not its name
nor its exact site
but here I'm
(don't ask how)
get lost but somehow relieved:
for not hearing the melancholic birds' song
and not seeing gayly but fragile dancing of grasses
and most of all, for not knowing where I am...

Could someone just tell me;
how could that be me?

Let Me Believe What I Believe as True

The Idea of Jealousy

jealousy and guilty feeling in this early morning...
make me hungry of food, of achievement, of true happiness at once!

it shouldn't be jealousy
it may be proud
if only there is no guilty...
so sorry...



*gambar dipinjam dari sini

The Senseless Morning

The bird's singing in a wet branch of rainy season
but I pretend not to hear the songs rushing into my ears
the morning fairy blossoms a flower out silently
and I'm still in doubt to admit its beauty this early

Where will this senseless morning lead me up to?
while the darkness of night still wrap the sunshine in the far east
how can I clear up the veiled sky of mist?
when I cannot help myself from being cold in a corner of my room

The senseless morning, where will it leads me in?
when the sunshine wins the battle and thus clear the misty sky
then the evanescences complete the morning beauty,
for what I feel is nothing but pain and doubt:
how to enjoy the burned sunrise without threatening
the presence of morning dews...

The senseless morning,
give me a clue to pass this through...


Friday, March 4, 2005

Note:
photo is taken from here

Happy or Unhappy

What makes you think that I'm happy or not happy?
Moreover, me myself sometimes can't predict the idea of feeling happy or unhappy to come.
It's a vast field of world, of issues, of people around us, and of the feeling itself.
They oftentimes influence my feeling; it's my fault. I just can't always choose to be happy facing what's happening.

I may be happy this time, and then feeling sad within another second. That's an extreme shift of emotion, yes I know. But, it's possible, right?

The ups and downs are the rhythm of life's tunes. I'm still learning to enjoy the beat and get used to it.



*bengong iseng: Bandung, 20 Desember 2010*

A Pale Moon in a Shining Winter Afternoon!

I was once walking in early afternoon while staring at the pale moon.
But couldn't stop looking back to see the shinning sun in the opposite side.
Then, I heard the solid snow cracked beneath my black boots.

Hey, it's a pale moon in a shining winter afternoon!
What a combination!

You know what? The day before I said to someone that there won't be the sun and the moon at once in the afternoon sky. Well, yes, sometimes we see the moon still hanging in the early morning sky but not in the afternoon's. And in early morning, the sun is not so bright and shining so the moon wouldn't be threatened.

I was so amazed for the moon that I stopped walking and looked at the half moon and the sun by turns. It's just such extraordinary moment for me so I stood and enjoyed it. It "disturbed" me that the sun and the moon apparently can share the sky in the same time.

It was December 31th 2009--approaching a new year's eve or the German used to call it "Sylvester". I was on the way home from Hamburg-sightseeing with friends. It was my first new year's eve in a far away country. It should be a great time; don't you think so? But, it wasn't.

At night, the fireworks filled the sky, but not filled my heart which was painful of the intense sobbing. The fireworks lit the sky so it's full of lights, but my eyes were filled with tears.

I won't tell the reason for the intense crying. It's not the point. I wrote this only because I want to remember the moment and most of all to remember the things I've learned in that very last day of year 2009.

I wondered if I was no different with the pale moon; let say it's extraordinary to keep existing during the day time. But what's the importance? It's no use to shine in the shining winter afternoon!

To the Rose
I entrusted my worries
hoping they will be safe from the all thorns

To the Rose
I poured out the color of my blue heart
thinking if it may change its red bud

To the Rose
I admitted my secrets
about the life of mine,
the heart of mine
wishing they are all safe from the the rushing wind

Then the Rose-liked thing laughed at me
saying there must be misunderstanding in me
since Rose isn't Rose without thorns,
and its bud won't change color for centuries,
and Rose won't be fragrant without the rushing wind!

I wondered:
to whom had I entrusted "me"?



Bandung, 7 November 2010