Hand in Heart

Heart has its own daunting beauty,
When you can feel the pulse beneath,
And sense the warmth it glows dimly,
When you muse on the zeal it conceals,
And caress the tenderness so fondly.

So much for fizzle and chagrin,
As the world gave you plenty of them.
The greatest conundrum of your love,
Lies in the gentle touch of the heart,
By those faithful not far-away at all.

Deep in your breath a wish blooming,
That your life will never be friendless,
That you will walk surcease accompanied.
Too precious happiness to let go,
While soul-stirring friends stay around.

You don’t need the best person to love,
But an unsophisticated soul to embrace.
Eyes and vibes of those so endearing,
Keep your days and nights breathtaking.
So when the dreams are flying too high,
Put the hand of the dearest in your heart.

"Yearning for the Transcendence"

            What else look so familiar to us than the ‘places’? Our world is a place that is completely irrefutable. The metaphor of ‘place’ is so powerful an image that affects our entire activity of thinking and living. We can argue whether we are going to ask about the ‘time’, the ‘what’, or the ‘who’ we want to talk, but the necessity to situate ourselves before anything else shows how determining the ‘where’ of our own being—the being ‘in place’. The first thing you might ask yourself when you wake up in the middle of the night is “Where am I now?” Failure to realise where I am now can bring serious consequences in terms of our being and becoming in the moment ahead. Perhaps we need some kind of ‘repetition’ of the familiar for we are unlikely to hold on if everything is ever new each time. We cannot stand the eternal newness because it will only cause us to lose the ground. Newness may not always be a sign of advancement. A certain amount of both repetition and newness in the experienced moments are still needed in order for the latter to remain meaningful and significant.

            While we are at home in the moments, art seems to precede philosophy and theology in terms of illustrating the various interruptions that occur within the reality and it revives the process of reinterpreting the ‘places’ from a different perspective. All our thoughts and writings may be a sort of repetition of what had been understood and viewed at a time. However, when we delve into them, it is no longer the text that is more pre-eminent but the ‘text’ created and composed anew in our mind during the reading process. We can never measure any sudden excess drips from a glass filled with knowledge and hermeneutics. We are always ‘crossing’ a hermeneutic of events and despite trying to return to the same place again, we are never the same any longer.

Each repetition was never a repetition of the same. Every newness we found in some ‘places’ was not really new for others. Perhaps we need to approach and appreciate each glimpse of transcendence however human it may seem. When one day we wake up and do not know where we are at that moment, perhaps the sudden and interrupting presence of ‘others’ will put us back in a relationship, a network, which is so familiar and at the same time so new. Perhaps it is time that we need the presence of a transcendence which always wants to interrupt our thoughts, our perspectives, our beliefs.

I'm Always Around

by Hadrianus Tedjoworo on Wednesday, 15 December 2010 at 21:25

Heart's vibes can come and go starkly,

tiff and twist are no more so queer.

When you dive into the passion's core,

be on your toes for a lot of chagrin,

for love is constantly spine-chilling,

leaving us breathless and all at sea.

Once upon a time you were so near,

as if we were all ears to each other,

when awe and eye were swamping us.

But it was hope that flew us high,

so high that no one wished to halt,

and just one tiff needed to disengage.

You're free to leave at any time,

you're free to seek your own gladness,

you're free to exult with your own pals,

you're free to mourn with those nearby,

to enter circles that'll keep you alive.

No one has the right to keep you close,

not in the name of intimacy and amity,

for it's not the body that needs a hug,

but only heart in one's whole presence.

I'd love to get the picture day by day,

to grow in care not in a masterful way,

to leave a space for your footsteps,

to pay homage to your own choosing.

And if one day you need some ease,

you'll find me, since I'm always around.

Forever Young

by Hadrianus Tedjoworo on Monday, 20 September 2010 at 22:39

It might somehow a bit knotty,

if we want to grab those joyful moments,

the dread is here in this same breath,

whether those flashes will stay timeless.

Can you just stop rushing awhile,

and take a gaze at your soul mate?

Just see in the eyes to seize the wish:

"I yearn for a life forever young!"

Now that is then the artless bit,

for even you can't give it a tip.

Our age is sometimes truly eerie,

as well for those who love swiftly.

But tell me why you should hurry.

Is that because you're too greedy,

to gaol your mate in eternity?

If God has ever been in love,

and such to boot in a human way,

there'd be no image of timelessness,

since God is Love in every splodge,

God only knows that love is a Now.

And Love never frets of endlessness.

If you wish to calm your soul for love,

never neglect your every immanence,

never go away from each love offered.

Just be grateful for those now close,

snuggle their hearts to sense the ardour,

and whisper straight from your shoulder,

"I'm so happy you're here, right now."

If You Were My Friend

If you were my friend,
I would have let you go many times,
to be friend of your own friends.
Since you would be as free as a bird,
and never be object of my own vanity.
I have never heard of a happy bird,
singing freedom from inside a cage.

But if you were to be my friend,
you wouldn't be irked by my prying,
nor would you by my calls and queries.
Since there'll be no elated heart if chained,
and no poignant passion out of questions.
The only thing you'd miss is jealousy,
for I really don't have that sort of thing.

If you were my friend for some time,
you would see me as I'd see you,
and stand by me as I'd do by you.
But be prepared for this one truth,
that joy is only found in each our pain.
Oh.. I did mean to mention pain,
for tears and laughs are just akin,
yet for true friends wishful to remain.

So you might think you were my friend,
when you rejoiced in our ascendancy,
were enchanted through affinity,
or overwhelmed in a sea of harmony?
If yes, then we were far from reality,
where we're just part of world's labyrinth,
where lofty love is purified in rupture,
so as friendship in a flame of qualms.

Now if you were genuinely my friend,
I would mother you till death gets me,
and I'd be there you asked me or not,
though you might not see me that clear,
and things around you might be so dark.
For it's not what you saw that you'd get,
just my nearness within you out-and-out.
You'd be my friend though I own you not.

Just Go Home...

One after the other,

a friend is leaving.
It always feels odd,
if you suddenly miss,
the smile so much caring,
the placid rub on your hand,
that dreamy voice heart-warming.

For it is not about no trust.
Since we too all have to leave.
But you will notice this at times,
if one's way just goes wrong,
you will be left lame and numb,
while your scream will be muted,
and your hand can't even reach.

Why would one forsake one's heart,
and pick a path that's just not right?
Why would you choose your own delight,
if that will clearly ruin your life?
And how could one feel so gleeful,
if life is a lie and a masquerade?

Look at your friends praying for you.
Listen to those calling your name.
Feel in your heart their empathy.
And don't just say 'Leave me alone'.
There's no such thing as your own joy,
for you and I are not alone,
and Life is grander than you think.

If only rain can bring you home,
we'll wait for you with open hands,
to give you peace you wished so long,
to see your smile without the angst.
You're wholly free to read this rhyme,
to hear the voice you only trust,
then just go home to your true soul.

You'll Find A Way

Uncertainty befalls a thousand times,
anguish and agony are always there.
It's just a second you sense a mirth,
then in a flash you feel you're lost.
A whisper soft from your dusky lips,
where is everybody?

When those you trusted look queer,
and those you knew sound whimsical,
loneliness and voidness strike in a trice,
devastating each heart however strong,
denigrating a character however firm.

But wait, is there anyone so big-hearted,
so indulgent to face a stubbornness?
You know not the edges of your heart,
and neither the bearing of your faith.
Sometimes we wished for other's glee,
but forgot to soothe the spirit within.

If one day you wake up so confused,
don't ever think you walk on your own.
There is always everybody around.
There is always a way to go through life.
Since all you hear and feel that day,
are the angels to hold you sound ever.

From now on adhere to your valour.
Don't ever run away from hateful visage,
don't even think what you have to say.
Remember your trusty unseen guardians,
who are at your side standing up for you,
holding your hand to keep you straight.
Just stay daring, and you'll find a way.

Images that Keep You Alive

Beauty fades so rapidly,

especially when you do hope,
that it would last a bit longer.
But wait, what is it that you love?
Is it only the sense attached,
or the very person you imagine?

If you can't hold a person anymore,
you can smell the scent yet everywhere.
If you desperately miss somebody,
you would bring the face into the real.
If the pain inside seems killing you,
you kiss the image to heal the wound.

Not everyone can unveil the secret,
of being embraced by the transcendence,
of being sheltered in intimate presence,
because the death of their mind's eye,
or their weariness of lustfulness.

But don't pigeon-hole images as illusions,
since there's no illusion as real as person.
Don't ever insist on one's appearances,
as if you're able to control an existence.
These images of those you are so close,
are truer to life than your own body,
a living nearness than just one's face.

Now if you decide to move on in life,
don't hesitate to allow this presence,
even if you can't smell and hold it again,
since they no longer remain some flesh,
but unfeigned warmth you'll ever hope,
the lovely images that keep you alive.