Do you know why I like cloudy and windy weather? Yeah, cause I won’t feel my body sunburn or my head is boiling and will explode soon. I also don’t need to worry about getting wet or catch a cold cause of raining. It’s perfect for me. Not too hot, not too cold. Just like this morning.
I don’t know if this city is still asleep or half-awake cause the streets are quite deserted. Ah, maybe because today is Saturday? Weekend? I don’t even know why. Who do you think I am? Should know everything? The thing I know now is I sit here at the veranda, drinking a cup of coffee while seeking an inspiration. Voices in my head asked, “what should I write today?”
Finding a good and right word to be arranged into whole sentences has never been easy for me. I often had a fight with my inner self, argue a lot with the voices in my head just to find a good and right word. I said “A”, they said “B”. I wanted “this”, they wanted “that”. How could I deal with these fight?
I always act like a chef when it comes to write, especially poem. My poem doesn’t only consist of words, but also : the unspeakable love, the eternal dreams, a passionate longing, non-bleeding wounds, a half of joy that flew away and the other half that left in my memory. Concocting all of them in my head, pour into a piece of paper, let the pen executes every words even comas and dots. The time will be the furnace that cook all of them till done. Then I’ll serve it with a cup of morning warmth and a plate of friendliness of sunlight. And I’ll give them all to a wanderer who’s thirsty for love and hungry for affection.
Yogyakarta, June 15th, 2019-04.15 p.m.