A Poem

Photo by Robin Lyon on Unsplash

Linear lines drew across that common bridge
Connecting roads from over hundred continents
Linked with each other by fiery fire
Blazed is the fire, but deadly it is not

Tired are the connectors,depleted by sun
Sky is so grey, blue isn’t present just like moon
Until crowd blinked, and then they were none

Among the crowd he was so dim, yet shine and silvery
By the moment of ascension, He stood by alone but lonely he wasn’t

Along with the breeze of broken hills
He was the end road
He walked slowly, yet so steady

Upon the darkest night, he flickers
Then shine dimly, yet the light is strong

Sensational and exceptional, he was an anomaly
With every breath he drew, more meat that he stews

Clouds often mimic him, attracted by his light that dim
Applause was given when he reach the final scheme



Poem from a city ped

Street of Sudirman, South Jakarta captured by writer

Herd of tires,
Crowding this place like fire.

Includes all varieties
But all share similarities

Distant is the sky,
And the sky is ray,
Living here is what most desire.



A Poem.

Photo by Matthias Müllner on Unsplash

Days or night never ate
Live so inappropriate
Bestow flatfoots finance
Lowering heat in range

Twice the news then they are made
Everybody knows whom they hate
The Top Family has high gates
Strong-will are their mates

Pride is what they care the most
Cynical to outsider, never leave their post
Feel triumph whatever their cause
Men in Red, they are ruined coast



Death taught us a lesson about the certainty that it’ll happen to everyone.

Photo by Ann on Unsplash

What if a man died killed by his own medicine?
It will be an irony.

What if a man died at his peak, during his glory?
It will be a tragedy.

What if a man died caused by a banana peel?
It will be a comedy.

But, does it even matter?

We will all die soon anyway,
Because no king rules forever.



What A Lovely (Sun)Day

Photo by Trevor McKinnon on Unsplash

Monday Misery,
Mutiny night, malfunction nurtures
Might be trouble, might be them

Tuesday Treachery,
Throwaway evening, trusting everyone
Tried to leave, tried to hide

Fine Wednesday,
Fostering a wimp
Finding a wildcard

Clarky Thursday,
Constantly throttled
Continually thrilled

Fidelity in a formality
Fragility within fatality

Garrisoned Saturday,
Grasshopper squabbling
Goats are running away, however
Gammy legs of mine can’t, too bad

Sunshine Sunday
Slowly shining, seems to appear
Should I stay or should I move on?
Still can’t find what’s needed most, but
Surely it will be found, in time.