The familiar twinkle

You are the puzzle I've solved many years ago,
On the day we came crashing down onto each other,
Leaving between us a mess of tangled up red knots,
As we dangled around in the stuffy room,
Frantically searching for each other's fingers,

Today the last of the red knots were unbind,
And as we found each other on the glittering floor,
I whispered that your fingers are electric,
Just as your smile,
Was telling me that so was mine.

Your fingers are made of garlics and chopped wood

You are always brown,
Always, as if you have chosen your mascot colour,
With your skin as the mask,
Standing slightly bent,
On jagged feet shaped by broken glass,

You have always been an arrow,
Straight, unbent and piercing,
With intensity that didn't fade with your hair,
You could break me in half if you wanted to,
Many times you have done so without intending to,

Maybe all I wanted you to know is that its okay,
That I'm okay,
That I've grown to know the value of lost things,
The value of a brown arrow,
Straight yet bendable,
With uneven, rusty tip,
Piercing and intense,
With bitter scratch marks,
An old school wrought iron,
Patched together as many times as it broke.

Vibrance in monochrome anguish

You can count the pills like everyone else count their blessings,

And I will count the times you've said no when you felt a yes is too dangerous,
Because we've been taught that conformance is a blessing and dissent is a curse,

And I promise I'd understand every time it gets you confused,
Because we've both seen how blessings consume people like the pills consumed you.

The unsettling ringing in your head

You may call me "A colossal disaster."

As I would call you "The perfect excuse."

Scribbles on a brown paper

You're the perfect subject for a horrible storyteller,
Like a bad joke in staged drama,
In rejected scripts on moth eaten papers,
Dreary and tiresome.

Yet you are all he writes about.

Of golden roses and a red Pontiac

Once upon a time, there was a man in a torn, black shoes. He woke up everyday dreaming of a shinier, and blacker, shoes. It wasn't much, but it got him out of his bed everyday. So he thought, "Thats a good enough dream for me."

Little did he know that all dreams meant something. He was still young after all. His dreams kept changing over the years, until one day he decided that there's not much worth in keeping up with all of them. That they'd all slow him down eventually. And that they all made him break the promises he made to himself.

He was fond of his vows and promises. That was how they got him hurt. It was a double blow, you see. He was mortified for breaking his promises, and was mortified for being betrayed by his shadow.

That was when his torn shoes lost its meaning. That was how he'd forgotten how sad he was when he heard his first beggar song. How the singer was blind. How the singer memorised all of the Malay classics. How him and his wife had them all written in braille. How beautiful the melody was. And how their bucket was filled with a single coin, the value of their lifetime effort.

But he still is young. And maybe, just maybe. When all of his cigarette smoke settles, he'd find the true meaning of the torn, black shoes again. That it was alright for him to dream of the treasures he wish he'd have. As long as he dreams of sharing them all as well.

For now, lets just all wish him good luck.

The one that knows us when our heads are down

It took me 25 years to understand that you are the most wonderful thing to have ever happened to me. And that even something as wonderful as you couldn't last forever.

The differences in our approach

"Let me suffer all your wounds, because I want to keep you perfect. You don't need to pay for me. Unlike everything else around you, I am here for free."

"Please stop taking my scars from me. I need them for my next show and tell. Everything around me values me for my imperfection. Everything but you."

The recognition from an empty plate

My plate was never empty with you around,
Placed on our table,
Always filled with red flesh,
Drenched in your salty sauce,

Today I finally looked up to check on yours,
Just to find an empty seat,
With a broken plate and a bloody knife.

So i took the plate and replaced it with mine,
Took the knife and cut out my heart,
As I wait for the next person to sit in your chair,
Ready to serve them until they check on mine.

The eternal ticket for you to fuck me over

Everybody else has a line they cannot cross,
I'd drew them myself before we became friends,
They wouldn't have any say about it,

But you've never been everybody else to me,
And that means there's nothing between us that you can't cross,
You are free to come here and strike me down and kill me,
Even when I don't welcome it,
I'd never lift a finger to strike you down and kill you first,

So maybe there is a line for us after all,
Going in spirals,
You moving in,
And I, moving out.

False interpretations

What dependency?
You think I need them?
When you accuse me of faults, then you're accusing yourself of faults.
Because I am nothing without you.

And everytime you mistake friendship with dependency,
I wish that you had never conceived me.

Behind the veil

You've always stood in front of your love and your scars,

To both protect and to hide,

And when you loved me,

I couldn't tell whether I'm protected or hidden,

So I lived as your wound,

And hope that you can love me as your scar.

Dark patches on wrinkled skin

Anger,
Was all thats left in that hour,

Death,
Was the simple justice left for scale.

Delayed

I've promised many times that I'll never be like you,
Even when my flaws are shaped like your edges,
Maybe all I am is nothing like you,
Even when loose grips, wouldn't sever our tethers.

Beneath swaying trees,
In the season of fruits,
I fell and skinned my knees,
And you convinced me everything is good.

The passing of an author

I was an empty book,
And you gave me my letters,
And now you're gone,
No matter where I look,
I hope you would still pray,
So I wouldn't leave my pages in shambles.

The curse we carry

As the first corner takes the silhouette of you from me,

Everything about us bursts to life,

And as the comfort of home fades away,

I call out a silent goodbye,

The sincerest me that I'll ever be,

Only for you,

I wish our goodbyes will echo an eternity.

Kewujudan sempadan itu bukan sebagai penghalang, tapi sebagai pemisah. Agar pemerhati boleh kekal memerhati, dan yang diperhati dilindungi dari hipokrasi.

Keindahan itu engkau bawa, dari sudut2 aneh yang tidak difahami oleh seluruh dunia.
Mungkin juga hanya duniaku yang terlalu kecil,
Untuk memahami keasingan yang engkau bawa,
Keasingan yang kau rasakan biasa,
Dalam duniamu yang luas,
Luar biasa.

Dan daripada itu sempadan yang melemaskan aku kian menghilang,
Melepaskan hatiku dari belenggu-belenggu dunia yang kecil,
Walaupun hanya seketika,
Tapi engkau yang berada di luar sempadan duniaku,
Tidak tercapai oleh akal dan jemariku,
Tanpa kata-kata,
Tanpa pertembungan mata,
Telah menyentuh bahagian jiwaku yang paling dalam,
Dan mengajar aku untuk bernafas,
Dalam kelemasan yang aku cipta sendiri,

Dan aku mula faham,
Bahawa tiap-tiap yang indah itu berlainan bagi setiap insan,
Tetapi kesannya tetap sama,
Bagai orang lemas menarik nafas pertama.

The taming of his black cat

He began with a name,
It was a simple concept,
An assured attribute,
Unique to only him,
Something only he will respond to,

Then came the fried fish,
Some were leftovers,
Some were specially bought,
But the single most important quality,
Was that the fish is there every day,
Not a single day missed,
Signalling a bounding commitment,
Between an old man and a generation of black cats.

And so they were there everyday,
And will be there in the coming days,
Taking turns waiting for one another,
With a silent acknowledging nod they came,
And with a trailing gaze they left.

And as I sat there motionless,
Separate from their contract of fishes and names,
I came to see that they are a genuine sketch of honesty,

The one and only way for black and white to come together.

The superior, venerable balance

Each step you take, takes a toll on you,
Each breath you breathe, takes a toll on you,
Each swing of your hand,
Each road you crossed,
Each corner you turn,
Each pills you take,
And each doctors you see,
They all took a toll on you,

But you kept stepping,
Kept breathing,
Kept swinging your hands,
Kept crossing the roads,
Kept turning the corners,
Kept taking the pills,
And kept seeing the doctors,
Hid all the pain and grimaces behind your conversations,

And I want you to know that you are immortal,
That all your efforts are worth it,

Especially to those who deserve it.

A simple, paralyzed "thank you"

The only thing you can move is your mouth,
And the only words you can say is thank you,
Today you heaved heavy breaths just to say it twice,
Doubling over your gift to the world,

And that makes you irreplaceable,
Not for the strangers you smiled to,
Not for the ones who loved you,
Not for the ones you've taught to love,
So pace the world with pride,
Even in your wheelchair,
Even in bones that no longer work,
Because you understood things that most don't,
And because despite all your frailties,
You carry the qualities,
That defines God's most wonderful creation.

Thank you for that,
Please have a rest,
Because you should.

Pertimbangan dari fulkrum yang berkarat

Pukul 7 petang, dan Kuala Lumpur berbau masam. Wajah-wajah yang diam, tunduk, teliti memilih lagu-lagu senja untuk menemani perjalanan pulang.

Sunyi di bandar bunyinya lain. Bukan seperti di kampung, bila sunyi, maka bunyinya sepi. Di bandar, sunyinya berlagu dan berbau. Lagu-lagu kasar, datang dari mesin-mesin besar yang menjantungi bandar. Bau-bau minyak dan keringat insan pula menghiasi kesunyian tadi.

Dalam kesibukan itu, ada suatu wajah tua yang tersenyum. Asing sekali senyumannya dari wajah-wajah lain dalam gerabak itu. Ahh, mungkin dia datang dari kampung, mahu mencari anaknya di sini, perkara biasa. Pada tangannya ada beg besar yang berat. Pada tubuhnya terselit kegigihan orang lama. Berdirinya bongkok, mungkin kerana tulang-tulangnya sudah berusia.

Ketika itu aku sedar. Dalam keghairahan sebuah bandar yang sibuk, penuh dengan jiwa yang mengejar cita-cita. Semua orang terlupa, bahawa tiada jiwa yang lebih penting dari jiwa yang lain. Tiada orang yang lebih berhak dari orang yang lain.

Sepanjang 3 stesen orang tua itu berdiri, tiada seorang pun yang bangun untuk beliau duduk. Orang-orang yang sibuk, yang berucap pada cermin, "Aku mahu mengubah dunia!" sudah gagal ujian pertama. Mereka telah melebihkan jiwa mereka sendiri. Mengabaikan jiwa yang tua, yang mungkin sudah terbatas waktunya untuk berbakti pada dunia.

Lalu sedarlah aku, masyarakat ini lahir dari cita-cita yang singkat. Asalnya semua dari kata-kata yang nista dan dusta. Dilemparkan pada cermin, dan terpantul pada muka-muka sendiri.

They have become their own gods. Changing the world into a nameless wasteland. Indulging in their self-importance, forgetting the dream, not bothering for repentance.

The knot that ties us together

Do you feel rejected by both ends of your world?
When they push your extended hand away,
When they refuse to understand that time is short,
And when they turn away from the bitter smile you struck,
In retaliation to that gentle and harsh push,
That felt warm and painful, and sometimes beautiful.

Please understand that those arent rejection,
Because when all you wanted was to understand your world,
All your world wanted was to understand itself,
So it could better contain you and everyone else it pledged their refuge to,
And so that the knot that ties the both ends of your line can be kept safe,
So that it wouldnt break,
Even when a million other worlds rest upon it

The characters that deserve

The non-existent deserves all that you can be,
The present deserves all that you are,
You deserve all that you've created.

A toothless laugh

Have you ever came across one before?

It was like an ancient magic,
Silent,
Muted by age,
Triggered by a familiar joke from a familiar banter,
Where there was once fangs is now hollow,
Taken by the ferocity of gritted teeth,
The host was a body in a wheelchair,
With shuffling legs that cant stand too long or sit too long,
Eyes lost, untranslateable in a chorus of movement,
I've always wondered what they think of,
Are they alone in the crowd too?
Or is the crowd too familiar to be alone in?
I guess I'm too young to tell,
All I know is that day, I struggled to find life in all that heat and chaos,
When I came across it for the first time,
Beneath a sickly old woman without voice, teeth and strength,
Was a strange laugh that can be seen but not heard,
That was when I learnt that laughters are more for the eyes than the ears,
Because for that brief moment,
With a muted laughter,
She was the liveliest in the noisy crowd,
And the liveliest on that noisy day.

Tiang

Kami asalnya dari angan-angan harapan,
Datang dari jauh,
Bertapak di sini menyemai bumi,

Asal kami dari rumah-rumah kecil bertiang seribu,
Pada tiang-tiang itu tersirat sekelumit senyuman tua,
Pesan senyuman itu,
"Tiang-tiang kami akan roboh"
"Rumah ini akan hilang erti"
"Kamu harus pergi"
"Pergilah"
"Pergi dan bina sebuah rumah baru"
"Rumah ini akan hilang hangatnya"
"Akan hilang warnanya"
"Kelak cuma akan tinggal batu-batu pudar yang sejuk"
"Dan kamu akan perlukan rumah yang baru"
"Ambillah tiang ini"
"Yang terkuat antara seribu tiang"
"Inilah yang terbaik dari kami"
"Pergilah"
"Pergi dan bina sebuah rumah baru"

Maka pergilah kami,
Pembina-pembina yang bertongkat pada amanah rumah lama,
Berbekalkan sebatang tiang,
Cuma satu pertanyaan kami ayah, ibu,
Tidak akan robohkah sebuah rumah bertiang satu?
...tiada jawapan,
hanya senyuman pada tiang itu yang masih tinggal.

Love

Love is the colour you see in black and white,

The stench you remember from a long forgotten photograph,

The cheeky notes in a song you used to listen through the broken cassette player,

and as you forget everything from that moment,

You felt the tenderness of the sun,
Striking on the skin you've forgotten you had.

Love is an angry protection,

The bitter aftertaste from doing what you should instead of what you want.

It is the honest look from that child with the little voice,
 begging you to stay,

with his little hug wrapping around your thigh,

telling you they'd miss you without knowing to speak,
without knowing what it means to miss.

Love is the bread on the table,

The grapes in the fridge,
The singer in the shower,
The smell of fresh laundry,
And the comfort that came unrequested,
Unexpected,

It is the taste beyond words,

Permanent for 12 years,

And goes when they leave.

Love is what you build without purpose,

It is not without fire,

Scarring you where you cant see,

Tingles and burns in quiet nights,

And sleeping well in hustling days,

It exists in ways you wish will never end.

The creases grew longer

You've taught me to look at the world with solemn eyes,
To look for things hidden behind cheerful facade,
That vibrant and dreary can be the same thing.

You've told me all that,
and repeat that they're all you have,
and say that you can give me nothing more,
and nothing less.

So I nodded,
then I twist and turn in refusal,
and regret and learn after,
and understood how to be forgiving,
by learning how much you have forgiven me.

And now I'm grown,
I'm able to see,
The creases in the world that you showed to me patiently,
Only to notice that you have them too,
Which means that there will be time,

When I can no longer have you.