untuk dia; makna

aku mencintai seorang pria yang ku fikir telah lama aku kenal 

berbulan lamanya ku fikir, dia lah orangnya 

pergi dan datangnya pula seolah malu tetapi mahu

ku kira, mungkin saja ini permainan laki-laki zaman ini

aku mencintai seorang pria yang entah dari mana

kadang saja, dia itu membahagiakan

kadang banyak pula, dia cuma orang-orang yang mahu saja aku terlupakan

aku mencintai seorang pria yang ku fikir telah lama aku kenal

lalu aku diamkan banyak celanya

aku bahasakan baik-baik saja soal dirinya 

untuk aku, dia itu bukan pria biasa-biasa 

pasti saja dia tahu apa yang diperlakukannya, lalu siapa kita ?

dalam diam dan dalam rahsia

dia ternyata bukan pria biasa-biasa

yang kamu bisa dengar, tapi buta-- 

yang kamu bisa lihat, tapi alpa-- 

soal cerita-ceritanya dia. 

berbulan lamanya ku kira dia ini tak kurang hanyalah picisan semata

yang hanya tahu datang adalah untuk pergi

mencintai pula dalam berniat untuk menyakiti

atau... aku yang selalu berburuk sangka

soal pria yang aku sendiri cinta 

kerana ternyata, setelah semuanya 

telah aku cintai seorang pria yang cintanya terlebih dulu mendahulukan Tuhan

untuk itu, aku ditinggalkan---

ketika cinta dia adalah jauh lebih baik dari cintaku yang tadinya.

@ Royal Botanical Garden, Edinburgh

the kind of woman she is

Well-educated

Decent manners

Wrapped by laces and organza

Modest in prominence

Also her stiletto and velvet clutch

Those are her whole fine garments

And definitions

Of a woman that shines and lights

In fact, she is a mistress wanted by all misters

Euphoria in her scents

In black she wraps up herself in mystery

Or maybe is it just her misery

That’s hidden beneath her rank in the society

Indeed, she is a mademoiselle hated by all madams

Though of all matters

She is just herself

A woman that is proud of her being—

The kind of woman she is.

-a.y.

what are you and who are you?

what is your first love?

Mom's love.

who is your first love?

my first heartbreak. 

what are you?

young and promising.

who are you?

new and different. 

a.y.

Peaches by yasmin ahmad

Bathing,

in the blossom

of our love,

I am suffocated by

it's rotting.

It happens

that it happens.

When a man and a woman

first meet,

they are at their

kindest,

most polite,

most

considerate.

Never again,

from that moment on,

will they be

as sweet,

or will their

smiles be

as genuine,

or will their eyes be

as playful,

or will their longing be

as pure

or as powerful,

as on that first

accidental meeting.

It is as though

a heart that falls

in love

were

a peach

at the peak of

it's ripeness;

plump

and velvet to the touch,

but destined

to decay

and decay.

Would it that

the heart could love

a lover

with as much

conviction,

and as few

conditions.

as when it loves

a friend.

the woman; a sonnet

At five she woke up

From her husband arm and snoring songful alarm

Silhouetted by the same lingerie

The ages one, the long and weary

The one she bought by her own money

Look at her neck, look at her wrist

Where gone all her jewelries

Harmony and aloud

At the kindergarten

Where she taught the kids a thing or two

For her fifty, she was meant to not be greedy

This is a violence of life

Keep giving; you must survive

Melancholic

She wears the face of a strong mother

Rich and not poor

For the entire price she bears to pay

She must be wealthy to say;

This life isn’t longer about me but the sons

At five I woke up

From my husband arm and snoring songful alarm

Unfamiliar, unpopular

That my husband pays for my lingerie

Also my neck and my wrist

Are there a lavaliere and an ornament

But what are these, I thought of the woman

Of all her sacrifices

And her endless struggle

For the things I’ve forgot

And for the things she got

She is just the Mademoiselle

Of an unhappy marriage

I must not yet understand,

But she could be true

That life isn’t longer about me but the sons.

a.y.

Ode to the guy I once loved

What you need; isn't me

Nor my care, nor my intelligence

Nor my love, nor my independence

What you need; isn't just me

I mean, just not me.

What you need; isn't me

Nor my joke, nor my sarcasm

Nor my solitude, nor my confusion

Your summarised statement has confide---

That what you really need; just isn't me

You weren't hurtful

Even if you were, I don't think you wanted that 

But it did make my heart shatters

It sure did my mind wanders

Over July of the last year, where you bring me to the happiness I didn't deserve

To the path of love I didn't serve

Along days and months I have cried too many sunrises

All of this just because the business was about; 'what does a nice girl truly deserve?'

I can almost understand now

Of why and how

Of you drifting to my life and then slowly discarding my initial stand

Just like how empires and old loves end

and so are we, my once-loved man

Myself; isn't what you need

So be it

For myself has been too explosive

And it has been about time that indecisive

but more about patience like the story of beautiful Eve

Now "I am not what you need"; is what I have to receive--

And then, just leave.

a.y.

to the guy who makes me wait

To the guy who makes me wait 

You would want to ask me why and how 

Somedays, somehow, you would want to know 

But now, 

Let us be frank, simple and, be easy 

For that is what I am capable of doing 

As this is a part of my liking

Towards you, in being here, spending my leisure in waiting. 

To the guy who makes me wait

You would want to know, why

Either less or more, look through my eye

You would know, how this is made

How this decision finally to be in state 

Of where I am firm and not being hesitate

How should you read me, shall you know how.

It may burn me

This waiting might burn me

Somedays, somehow when I am about to losing the courage

So now depends, for I am not among prophets and saints

My limitation somedays, somehow might come to numerous ends

be humble, despite do not just be gamble

By God's guidance, have a plan 

From state to state

In bringing this undefined feeling

To one final upcoming 

Upon awakening and under the Divine wing, 

Learn, my darling, on how to end this waiting. 

a.y.

i'd be your writer

That's me; the brave girl who has fight way too long to reach this point

to be able to believe again, and 

to trust again

and that I chose you not because--

you are nothing flawed, or because 

you are anything bold

you are just you, your well-defined self

you are, the package of you as the one that I chose

despite, the intricate nature of yourself

despite, my heavy mind and impulsive heart

I made myself to choose you

despite various of options 

with all my reasons

you are chosen; for the logics I couldn't count

and for the sake I couldn't mount

you were, nothing all days before now

but today, you are the main actor in my story

the prologue I've produced at one page line 

the epilogue I'm about to have at end of time

this tale, you see, I'm about to tell--

is the journey of wanting and desiring

more or less about giving

sometimes, requires taking while-- loving

but--

I may need some cooperations, a good persona acts in this story made

I may want you to stay, under this spotlight I've prepared

between my vulnerability and the courageousness of mine

for it has always been you in this insane mind

so be the role, be my hero

be this story's actor,

be my knight in shining armour

but do not just act, be more of real you --instead

be patient, for it's about to aim

for you to be the role in my world of main

be honest, for it's about to begin

for you to be the persona in this entire theater till the end

stay cool, my dear; I'm the best writer

and the best fit to make you the better

be nearer, i won't harm nor scare 

do not be in fear, instead be in my care

promise, this hand is made safe

so that's now as you have to believe and behave

trust, for I'm one of fantasy's best writers

made up of the best characters

i would create you stories and long letters

and for in all seriousness and madness,

I borne to be your ultimate writer, 

something for you to cherish, for no one luckier to have me but--

you as my tale's warrior. 

a.y. 

You don't call yourself a poet

You don't call yourself a poet 

For writing rhythms and poems 

For poet is more than just about making a book of phrases 

And you are no one but the acting pieces 

You don't call yourself a poet 

For giving people an idea of wise words 

For poet is more that just about giving and inspiring 

You are still that plain Jane who would prefer to sit alone at the time of spring 

Poets were legendary 

They were the endless art of precisions

They were gems one couldn't realize when just be looked at first 

And for variety of masterpieces 

they would be producing out of leisures

They are still no one

But the hidden ghost that is scary in being written 

That is hideous in being seen

That is magnificent in being felt

They are everything and everywhere

that lay in the layers of skin

And when it's the time of gloomy 

They would show up

In everything and everywhere.

Still, they don't call themselves a poet

They are just not less

than those from the typical sad writers. 

- A.Y. 

Mahu pulang

Hati aku telah pulang

Ia sudah tidak lagi berada di mana mana tempat asing;

yang tidak mahu berkehendakkan dia

Hati aku telah pulang

Ia telah tahu harga sebenar

Yang perlu dibayar untuk berada

pada tempat yang ternyata bukan untuknya.

Hati aku telah pulang

Ia telah benar-benar pulang

Usai cerita ditutup oleh masa yang lekas

mahu berlalu laju

Tidak disuruh malah tidak dipaksa

Cuma pergi dari kata 'telah' dan 'sedang'

Ia masih kurang tahu soal menuju 'akan'. 

AY; 

Kuala Lumpur, 2017.

Poem for a matter

"Love is so short, forgetting is so long." - Pablo Neruda 

Tonight that I shall be writing for you 

Like a girl who has long waiting for the lover 

Like a kid who has been so excited to be kissed by his mother 

Like the moon glows at night when it has completed the circular

To this day, to this night, at all kinds, I shall be writing for you. 

Alone.

That it's time, that I must put this to an end 

That I shall no longer be writing for you 

Because the girl has just given up 

Because the kid has no longer wanted for the kiss kind of affection 

Because the moon has learned to be faded 

Because at all kinds, you wouldn't come to read and be mattered. 

Now. 

I open my eyes and I write somehow

To you that wouldn't come, 

A simple poem to be heartened by your mindless mind

A historic of myself in neglecting the fact you'd never be mine 

Of this bitter day that full with wrongness and weeps 

Upon this night's long fatigues

I shall just be forgetting you. By now. By this point of time. 

Like we never had a hello, I shall not end this with a goodbye

This one shall then be a secret leaving. Till never, my dearest. 

- AY, 2.21 am

poskad janggal

Malam ini janggal; 

Yang ada hanya timbunan thesis, tulisan, secangkir kopi malas,

dan ingatan ke arah kamu. 

...

Aku cemburu sama halusnya tulisan Spanish Pablo Neruda;

yang banyak dibaca oleh orang -orang 

waima hanya dalam alihan bahasa. 

Ternyata bahasa cinta itu halus, di alih bahasa juga karyanya tetap kedengaran sama bagus. 

Tetap sampai. Tetap mampu membuat jiwa mereka bergolak macam lautan luas yang hendak tumpah. 

Aku cemburu sama konsistennya tulisan Kahlil Gibran; 

Apa dirinya takpernah dikecewa

Apa jiwanya takpernah diluka 

Tulisan cintanya selalu saja bahagia, selalu saja kedengaran agung dan ikhlas 

Sedangkan, dalam diri aku; itu berbeza

cinta selalunya soal kecewa dan luka. Kahlil Gibran ternyata orang yang selalu ikhlas dan bahagia.

Aku cemburu sama mapannya tulisan Paulo Coelho, 

Yang ternyata dia sang pemimpi yang jarang sekali berputus asa

Setiap kata kata yang ditulis adalah inspirasi

Jarang sekali aku diberi kata dua soal terus bermimpi

Kerana untuk terjaga; kau seharusnya bermimpi dahulu. 

Kerana dia, aku juga mahu jadi sang alchemist. 

Aku cemburu sama hebatnya tulisan Jalaludin Al Rumi, 

Melalui abjad abjad yang tertulis; Tuhan dirasakan begitu dekat

Saat jiwa diluka sama orang, kau tahu Tuhan cukup adil untuk takkan buat kau begitu

Kerana cinta Tuhan itu bukan tunggal, ia bergerak seperti nadi

Ia tetap ada. Ia bersifat 'mutual'. 

Selangkah kau kemari untuk Dia, berlari rahmatnya menlindung dan menyanjung

Aku cemburu sama legendarisnya tulisan Shakespeare, 

Walaupun kebodohan Romeo dan Juliet itu; nyata

Ia masih suatu bukti yang cinta itu halus bisa mengawal--

Jiwa, akal dan segala yang kau lepas saat cinta bukan lagi cuma soal hati

Tetapi nyawa.

...

Malam ini janggal; 

Kerana aku menulis tentang orang

Dan bukan kamu. Tapi tetap saja satu saat nanti aku mahu kau tetap ditulis aku. 

Sampai bila bila. Sampai aku mati. 

You have always been the postcard;

And likewise, I'm the waiting.

Hal orang yang bermurah hati

Hal orang yang bermurah hati adalah apabila buku kegemaran telah dan sudah diberi orang

Yang tinggal hanya sekotak koleksi buku terbuang yang tak pernah mahu di jamah dan di-terjemah

Lalu, mana mahu dicari satu lagi.

Hal orang yang bermurah hati itu tegang

Bila mencintai tapi harus terus dan selalu memberi

Sampai saat habis dirinya di-bagi

Untuk orang-orang yang tak mudah tahu menghargai

Hal orang yang bermurah hati memang pantas dikasihani

Kerana salah mereka cuma menjadi terlalu mudah dalam segala hal

Baik dalam hal memberi

Malah hal mencintai

Satu-satunya alasan agar terus dilihat baik

--dan baik

Sampaikan alasan disisih orang juga

 hanya kerana--"kau terlalu baik" 

Behind the perfect shaylaa and her long abaya

Behind the perfect shaylaa and her long abaya, was a soul that has always wanted to be nearer to her religion and God. Who was a lifetime runner towards her Creator.

Nothing could define her soul, nor her appearence, nor the way she talks.

Because, despite her perfect shaylaa and her long abaya; 

She was never been; One thing. Like so. 

tenggelam.

Dan ketika matahari hampir mahu terbenamkan dirinya 

Aku masih sendiri 

Termenung jauh seolah mencari erti 

Untuk bernafas satu purnama lagi

Atau terus lama-- apa ertinya

Kau bisa berhenti berlari-lari 

Atau terus mati padam dalam mimpi kau sendiri

Tapi kau masih mahu bernafas untuk seribu alasan 

Alangkah kuat! Alangkah utuh!

Hidup akan terus menjadi musuh, bercanda dalam gimiknya tersendiri

Sekurangnya kau tahu hari ini akan pergi, dan hari esok bakal menjelma dalam epik yang kau sentiasa mahu hapus momento buruk dan terus hidup dalam asingnya kedamaian

Dan lapangnya kebahagiaan.

Menjelang ghurub mentari sore ini-- dan aku sudah hampir mahu tenggelam.

AY, 9 Oktober 2016, 7.08pm, Cyberjaya. 

puisi jamban

Untuk si picisan semunafik engkau, 

Aku adalah antara wajah-wajah yang takkan pernah kau lupa. Wajah yang kau aniaya berminggu-minggu. Takkan ada dimana-mana cuma pada setiap sudut yang pernah kau lewati saat wujudnya 'kita'. Kau takkan cuba mengingat aku. Tapi pengecualian adalah pada hari hari malang kau; pada hari kau ditipu, pada hari kau dikhianati dan juga pada hari Tuhan tak menyebelahi sisi kau lagi. 

Dan kenangan untuk aku adalah satu-satunya masa silam yang tersisa. 

Akhirnya kau pergi. 

(Ft flatlay lapuk saat digesa Dr. Ng untuk coursework 'commercial law' yang berdue-date 17/10/16)

Wonderful

"Don't you think it would be wonderful to get rid of everything and everybody and just go some place where you don't know a soul?"