Salmonlilies

Moments of poetry. Fragments of philosophy.

  • random poem #4

  • Show me what we just did

    Some things may not be said – could not be said.Some writings wind around the things that may not, could not be said. They only tease and suggest the appearance of… How indeed, when speaking is a framed sequence and what one wishes to articulate is – an assortment of experiences/sensations all packed up… Language that…

  • Duet

    Kalau sampai waktuku Ku mau tak seorang kan merayu Tidak juga kau Tak perlu sedu sedan itu Aku ini binatang jalang Dari kumpulannya terbuang Biar peluru menembus kulitku Aku tetap meradang menerjang Luka dan bisa kubawa berlari Berlari Hingga hilang pedih peri Dan aku akan lebih tidak peduli Aku mau hidup seribu tahun lagi(Chairil Anwar,…

  • Hymn

    Leave the damn things alone. The turkey’s gone cold. Leave the damn things alone. beneath the canopy needled by drizzles, a woman stands. she has nowhere to go it is good to rain she has nowhere to go. The turkey’s gone cold. “am I supposedto believe in love and happiness?” “if the turkey was brown…

  • Swept autumn leaves in Rotterdam

    Sparks dusted all overBrown leathery is quartz-glittered 美此无数But the eyes no longer see what they do not seek (2004)

  • 送友人

    青山横北郭白水绕东城此地一为别孤蓬万里征浮云游子意落日故人情挥手自兹去潇潇班马鸣李白 First four lines capture the event as a painter depicts the scene. From this we depart. this verse, a farewell to us - ”I am not without you” carried with clouds, laden on horses – the long solitary journey begins.  Sun sets in. Our absence is present here *as much as I try to point to…

  • random poem #3

    The man who trekked the Himalayas with a herd of 108 yaks so they may not be slaughtered. His face is so bright

  • The figure a poet is. Is a lover

    When I realize that common discourse takes possession of my other and restores that other to me in the bloodless form of a universal substitute, applied to all the things which are not here, it is as if I saw my other dead, reduced, shelved in an urn upon the wall of the great mausoleum…

  • menulis seperti melukis

    Puisi

  • Why this world can’t be just bits and digits

    Everyday is honey be that of lemon or dew. Everyday is juice of creation and love. I want to mix fluids with you. —————— Aku, cinta banget puisi that I want to crush it in my palm crush it a brown stiff autumn leaf crush it a moth to fragments fine as fish food I…