Pantun Perpisahan

hari ini menugal jagung
hari esok menugal jelai
hari ini kita berkampung
hari esok kita bercerai

dari mana hendak ke mana
tinggi rumput dari padi
hari mana bulan yang mana
dapat kita bertemu lagi

kelip-kelip kusangka api
kalau api mana puntungnya
hilang ghaib kusangka mati
kalau mati mana kuburnya

batang selasih permainan budak
berdaun sehelai dimakan kuda
bercerai kasih bertalak tidak
seribu tahun kembali juga

orang aceh sedang bersembahyang
hari jumaat tengah hari
pergilah kasih pergilah sayang
pandai-pandai menjaga diri

mana manggung mana periaman
mana batu kiliran taji
tinggal kampung tinggal halaman
tinggal tepian tempat mandi

bintang barat terbit petang
bintang timur terbit pagi
jika tidak melarat panjang
ada umur ketemu lagi

Dreams

Dreaming is a door that divides my secret world with reality. People drift in and out through that door; cross my heart, and straight into my life. My secret world is fulfilling, exciting, somewhat immoral, I could be whatever I want, meet whomever I like, fly to wherever I want. Where physical movements know no limitations, happiness meets no boundaries. Dreams tolerate no reality; an accomplished fact without planning.

I breathe in reality, but I plunge myself into this frenetic journey, into my secret world, that is so beautiful beyond what words and scientific logic could express. I will escape. I will dream.

3/8

Listen to the beatings of my heart ;
The pulse of my life .
My love, my opiate , my forgetting , my oblivion .

This Flash of Lust

A rush of exaltation, and then everything begins;a treatise of longing. This seduction inebriates, and intoxicates me with a spasm of swelling inner pain and sublime of pleasure in a brawling, poisoning manner like a lethal injection of morphine. This unequalled, unexampled fatal attraction…saturates and satiates delirium and disillusion until sobriety leaks effusive tears, weeping, but yet I crave, beg and yield for more. My restless body is divided, torned between tears and smiles, while my heart reels with much primitive, heartfelt hunger for more, but yet I don’t expect myself to repent this tantalizing temptation. How deceiving. The heart asks pleasure first, and then excuse from pain, what a fallacy.Till now, I still will not give the liberty to my fettered self, to let go, for I am still wistfully waiting for you.

I cannot teach myself to forget this flash of lust.