Hop and Skitter

How I wish I was at a field
Grassy expanse providing seats unnumbered
Watching birds hop on their thin legs
Flitting from blades to shrubs to dandelions odd

I shut my eyes from the glare of the morning sun
Shaded so by sky cottons, white unblemished
Sharing space so vast a landscape so clear
A cheery visage of creation magical

Around the chatter of adults and children
Enjoying some bustling, yet, serenely quiet moments
The nuclear family of bygone days remembered
When life was simpler and toiling, fettered

Birds hop and skitter
Squirrels whiz and peer
Buzzards group and hover
An arena of nonchalance unhindered

Alas at the moment I am elsewhere
A blinded window my fixed portrait
Walled in pseudo-faked comforts so-called
Tapping away of plain husks words

Outside my glassy domain
A bird, black, on the ledge it stands
Spies through a break in blinds green
Perhaps it thinks, maybe it ponders
Why the coop, whence the surrender
A life imprisoned, a cocoon self made
As if flies away, the slight hint of smug
Of freedom afforded
And life expanded

How I wish I was at that field
Where birds hop and squirrels whiz

Gempita Tika

Jajahnya luas tidak terlangkau pandangan akan hujungnya
Hujung yang juga titik punca pagi tiba dan senja menghilang
Hijau yang bercampur aduk kuning, biru dan jingga
Di suatu sudut sekawan lembu tampak terlena
Menumpang redup pepohon yang tunggal setia

Disebelah besi yang tercacak menongkah awan
Berdiri di kakinya but tinggi mencicah lumpur
Seorang mandor? Atau Super?
Sebelah tangan mencekak pinggang,
Yang bebas sibuk mengibas
Menyilat unggas unggas yang membingit rimas

Kelihatannya mencari sesuatu
Tolehannya perlahan kiri kanan mengeluh
Mata tidak mengerjip barang sewaktu
Teropong tergalas belum tersentuh
Agaknya apa kata dirinya
Meyelam keindahan hadiah yang Esa.

Sayangnya bising laguan memecah bicara sendu suasana
Tersentak si mandor Super lantas tangan pantas menggagau
Mencapai handphone, di poket kiri hitam warnanya
“Saya..Saya…” jawabnya kepada sipemanggil bersuara garau
Entah apa yang dikata, apa pula yang dikota

Tamat panggilan,
si lelaki kurus tinggi mendengus keras
Serabut tampak hatinya
alat di tangan seperti hendak dihempas
“Kerja gila!!” bentaknya bersuara
Berkerut bibirnya menjuih seperti benci akan kerja
Yang bakal datang tiba

Datang si burung pipit terbang menyinggah sebentar cuma
Sang mandor yang geram gempita tercuit sedar
Terpancar lembut kalimah suci dari jiwa tercalar
Mengangguk akur nikmat diterima walau sekadar masa
Meliuk pergi bagai sejuk angin menggigit kulit terbuka

Berdiri kembali memandang padang saujana
Di bibirnya senyuman terukir tanpa paksa
Bising pipit dibiar berkala
Entah esok lusa mungkin tiada...

Dreamy Drizzle

Today’s a good morning
Though no sun rays peep through cottony white clouds
A great start to the day
Despite the dollopy drops of water falling from the heavens

It's raining, pouring

Blessed be the ticking seconds
So deep a man in his Zikrullah, muffling a thunderclap in the distant
Invigorating goes the minutes
Cascading shower on naked skin, cooling cleansing, a loving so tender

Thoughtful, worthy minutes pass
As drivers ponder an airwave sermon, their rides stationary in a choked waterlogged highway
Unbridled freedom from self made walls,
Breathed a man with a thousand employees, trading air-conditioned cell with the outdoors unshackled

So falls the rain

Such warmth
Thinks a boy, soaked, drenched head to toe as he dances a jiggly wiggle
What joy
Giggles a girl, bare feet, bottom submerged in a green-hued moat of a grassy mini castle

A gift so blissful
A gesture so beautiful

Let fall the rain…

Serene Moments

Something a colleague said just on visiting the graves of loved ones cuts straight into my heart.

I felt a tinge of sadness and a great relief at the same as I have always been fearful of being too bloody cold hearted.

There have been quite a few deaths in my life and through most of them; I do seemed to breeze pass with minimal emotional showing.

So the sharp twang in realizing that it has been a while since I last visited my grandparents graves is a MAJOR thing for me.

It used to be a routine for me to drop by the Alor Merah mosque muslims burial grounds to offer my prayers to both of them.

I know some thinks that its bidaah to do so and that the offering of prayers to those who’ve passed away can be done anytime, anywhere, but it does evokes a different kind of feeling.

One of serenity, in fact.

Unfortunately, it’s been years since the last visit.

Often, we conveniently blame the lack of time in bypassing things which we rate as peripheral to our lives, and usually, life has a way of turning this around to bite you when you least expect it.

A few days ago, a close relative and childhood friend of my better half passed away. She was cancer stricken and had spent her last days at the Sungai Petani hospital.

Her death hit my wife quite badly, as she had talked about her, thought about her but never got round to actually visiting her.

It hit me hard even when I typed those words above.

Mike and The Mechanics’ “The Living Years” hummed in my mind.

I supposed it is normal to wish (pray?) for at least a closed one to be with us in out final moments.

The last thing we’d want is to pass this mortal coil with bitterness in our minds.

Or worse.

This part is a small obituaric afterthought to hate-mongering assholes.

Marina is correct. It has been a particularly fractious Ramadhan.

Seems to be that it’s bye-bye restraint for some quarters, with acts ranging from name-callings to downright warmongering.

What gives, hombres? Not enough sugar ka?

If only we can shut out these nincompoops and their horrendous babblings, eh, and the world may just be a better place for the rest of us.