In faint he whispers to his love
“Don’t forget to rest too, dear”
Unbeknownst to both,
it would be his last words.
That night while his love is lost
in a dream laying down on the
thin cot next to him,
he watches his love intently
heartbroken from hearing the
sound of exhaustion,
but it’s the mere
fluttering of eye lashes
that brought tears
to his eyes, while
his heart also flutters
…for the last time.
This is a product of my imagination but based on a true story; a tribute to a dear friend. Because of him I found the courage to delve into poetry again. Thank you. May you rest in peace in your new world now. Flutter away freely with your wings.
the air being inhaled
a wrecked land
the once lush - now arid flat
no promises left
though it had its chance
with eyes closed
fragrant of cherry blossoms
cries of children's joy
It's still there
beating deep at night
some things never moved beyond
they stuck in the past
If she could talk, this would be her last words before she was gone. This would be her monologue.
my body's changing
I can tell, I can feel it, helpless
I know dark pages are ahead
no, I refuse to end this chapter now
just let me read this book longer
will you stay with me, read to me
let me fall asleep to your voice
let's take a picture, it's been a while
no, not full body, just the face
don't worry, I'll smile for us both
please don't smile, can't handle it now
it's your eyes, they smile too
I don't have much more to say
don't have anything to give you
what else to leave, everything breaks
I'll leave our sweet youthful times
when we never talk or think about
it's dark ahead, I see it
why are you lighting a candle?
yes, I'm scared too, but let's use flashlights
they last longer
#NaPoWriMo2021 – Day 8, and here is the prompt below, best explained when directly copied from the original instruction:
And last but not least, our (optional) prompt. I call this one “Return to Spoon River,” after Edgar Lee Masters’ eminently creepy 1915 book Spoon River Anthology. The book consists of well over 100 poetic monologues, each spoken by a person buried in the cemetery of the fictional town of Spoon River, Illinois.
Today, I’d like to challenge you to read a few of the poems from Spoon River Anthology, and then write your own poem in the form of a monologue delivered by someone who is dead. Not a famous person, necessarily – perhaps a remembered acquaintance from your childhood, like the gentleman who ran the shoeshine stand, or one of your grandmother’s bingo buddies. As with Masters’ poems, the monologue doesn’t have to be a recounting of the person’s whole life, but could be a fictional remembering of some important moment, or statement of purpose or philosophy. Be as dramatic as you like – Masters’ certainly didn’t shy away from high emotion in writing his poems.
The poem above is for a dear friend of mine. In 4 more days, it’ll be 9 years since her passing. This is for you, sis.
On the day of Palm Sunday, March 28, 2021, at 10.30 am (local time), two suicide bombers exploded themselves in front of the Cathedral Catholic church in the city of Makassar, South Sulawesi, Indonesia. Makassar is my hometown. I was born and raised there and attended mass several times in that cathedral during my childhood. You can read an article news about it by clicking on the link I posted underneath the image above. This is not the first time a suicide bombing targeted a church. Back in May 2018, another very similar tragedy happened to three churches in the city of Surabaya, the city where I was residing at that time until now. It was a shocking moment, but we bravely continued our daily activities. We could not succumb to fear, we refused!
I present you two senryu poems below as part of my expression.
found in extreme hate doctrine,
safety and comfort
crushed by erupted violence
left a hole in heart
I refuse to succumb to fear, hate, or use my words to promote them. Yes, of course I am angry, sad, desolated, but I still have hope and love in my heart. So, I fight fear with hope and love. Here’s another senryu with this message. May peace be with us all.
I dedicate the poem above to a friend who just a few days ago lost his partner. I’ve came to know his partner only through facebook, but over the past 4 years, we became friends. We shared one thing in common, even though only through online posts, and that is the love of poems. He loved writing free verses (in Bahasa Indonesia) spontaneously and posted them on his facebook account. What a pleasure it was to read them. He claimed that he was inspired to start writing free verses when he saw mine. True, I used to write some in Bahasa Indonesia in the past, but because of hectic schedule, the passion of writing slowly dissipated. I know, it’s an excuse, a lame one too.
Strangely so, the passing of my friend has tickled my urge to write again. I thank him for that. It was a gift that we gave to each other, and I should cherish it. My only regret now is that I never got to meet him in person.
Reading about the news of my friend’s passing was very shocking, and that’s because I haven’t been diligent in keeping up with my friends on social network. I’ve been reminded by his passing that I need to change, especially now that news of friends and family members’ passing seems to happen more often during this unique and challenging time.
I will continue — we will all continue — after every devastating moment. Life goes on. I will cherish what little and short memories I have with him because they are precious. Life is precious.