Sunday, April 24, 2011

madah pembinasa

mulut manis
bibir merah rekah
hati hitam haram jadah.

rambut sama hitam
punggung sama legam
belakang sesama tikam.

berdiri sama tinggi
duduk sama rendah
betina sama kekah

buai laju-laju
sampai pokok sana
apa dalam baju
woi bajukah lagi tu??

Thursday, April 21, 2011


Madness it is
I know, don't you ever tell me

Least I care
The more I bear
For all these truths
I cannot bare
For all the sins
I couldn't spare


I am here to stay
I have nothing to say

Dedicated to you. You know. You always do. I do.

Sunday, April 10, 2011


often, rarely seldom
often, you couldn't fathom
engulf you
embrace you
smother you

with the face of an angel.


Pointing out to people that politics is dirty


How love is heart breaking


Why people have to go to war


Why there's an end to everything

is just as redundant as asking

Why does my shit smell?

Saturday, April 9, 2011


Man just wants to be happy. But society wants him to be good. And when he's good, Man is rarely happy. But when he's happy, he's always good.
Henry Wotton

...or reality now?

Friday, April 8, 2011


I am one of those people who seldom smile when photographed. I wonder if it's related to my personal beliefs. I don't believe in perfection of pictures. When I see a great photo, the first thing that comes to my mind, "What's beneath that smile? Is the person as happy as he or she portrays?"

There must be stories beneath each picture. Be it dark or bright as day.

An example of this, I use to wonder who took a particular picture. If he is not a photographer or at least into photography, why is he taking the picture? Don't they think that he or she might want to be in that picture too? Is he/she isolated, a pushover or something? Or the others think he/she is too ugly to be in that picture? That's not so good, right?

But in the simplest words, regardless of my arguments, I am not photogenic. Hahahah!

Thursday, April 7, 2011

eat shit


murderers want to be the saints and the proper



why bother what people could see than what you really do?
God is a forgiver
but men's heart rarely do

deep inside you rot and stink
deep inside you know it fucking well don't you?


Wednesday, April 6, 2011


time waits for no one

yet there he stood grittily

a dweller of void emotions

a fucking complexity

beyond repair.

beyond redemption.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

khabarkan berita

kala izrail memanggil mu
dan kamu jadi jadi bukan kamu
hanya satu kupohon ya tuhan

meski aku hanyut kejauhan
meski aku leka kealpaan

kau ringankanlah sakitnya
kau permudahkanlah urusannya
kau tempatkanlah dia dimana sempurna

pergi engkau biar aku
khabarkan berita baik untukmu
ceritakan berita indah tentangmu
lupakan yang keruh aku, kamu

kerna hari ini hari kau
hari ini pergi kau
entah esok entah bila
hariku pergi tak terjangkau

Tribute to Mohammad Arif Azman who once taught me literature. He passed away today due to brain dead.

Of Honesty

"If you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything."
Mark Twain, 1894

Personal God

A subconscious blasphemy you made up to justify your wrongdoings.

How do you fear sin?

To please the mortal eyes


the Lord?

Cabin Fever

I hate

mobile phones



I hate


Monday, April 4, 2011

Personal Truth #1

The moment I stop writing, that means nothing else but

I've completely shut myself off from the world.


Even if your God hath offered you absolution

never will you wipe away all your sins from men's hearts.

Existentialism and Everyday Human Events

It's funny when you get older; coming late and not coming to class gives you the looks and talks, like you kill somebody's pet.

It's funny when you get older you fear those silly little things you did; jumping off a train, coming to classes in vain, dancing in the rain--

It's funny when you get older you're suddenly in the standards; what the fuck is being adults what the fuck is being childish--

What can I say when what matters doesn't matter anymore.

What matters at all.