sapa.mau.layan.....

it does make sense.

if
love is so fulfilling
who cares about writing poetry?

you know what,
and this might hit you hard but
if you think about it;

poetry is written by people who have missed the train. now
they are somehow consoling themselves by writing
poetry about love;
a love they do not know.

they wax lyrical. twisting
vowels bending consonants to tell
tales of anguished broken hearts, tortured
longing souls, shattered

dreams.
they build castles

in the sky,

and this floaty mist of concrete air
is where frog-kissing damsels and distress-freeing
princes live happily ev'r aft.

they sing of samson
and delilah, rhyme harry
with sally
idolise romeo and juliet
immortalise bonnie and clyde
how dare they

write about what they know not of.

well what else is there for them,
they who have missed the train

the voyeurs.

tidurlah, wahai permaisuri...

in your sleep you can
only understand lies,
you cannot understand the truth.

many things are involved.

first, the experience of
enlightenment, awakening,
illumination happens when there is
no mind present. enlightenment is
a no-mind experience.
words are not there, language is
not there. in fact you are not there
either. it is such a silence,
so profound and infinite,

it cannot be expressed without lying.

ada.apa.pada.kita

apalah mulut
sekadar perantaraan
mahuku dan pujukmu

apalah telinga
sekadar wadah
selampit dan madah

apalah hidung
sekadar membendung
busuk pekung di dada

apalah mata
sekadar mencari
semut di seberang

apalah hati
sekadar berdegup
rentak si mati

apalah minda
sekadar menurut
kerahan naluri

apalah nyawa
sekadar menunggu
bisikan kudusmu

apalah aku
sekadar malu
dalam khilafku

the invite

how can i resist
the seductive promise of
an exhilarating januis clausis
at hypersonic speed

ticket to indulgence

come
enter my head
where souped up thoughts
go full steam ahead
in a labyrinth of synapses

the chaos
constant collisions
of whizzing notions

a cacophony of consecutive implosions
send the neurons smattering scattering
dislodged and disconcerted
to the brink of dsyfunction
but their stride was not to be broken

still keeping apace
still keeping the fast pace
full of imagined purpose and intent
going round in circles
just to stay in motion


come
see through my eyes
the world in technicolor

unstoppable
fluttering lids
in tempo with
the blinking
of the computer cursor

like a twitch
uncontrollable

shutters going berserk
that recurring split moment between shut tight
and wide open
brief respite
from a blitzkrieg

the bizzarre metamorphosis
of familiar sights

so excuse me while i
play catch with
my speeding self
excuse my blank blinks
and inaudible rambles
and jimble-jumble of
semi-eaten drumlets and
half-finished conversations and
trailing postulations of no consequence

truth is
my virtuality
was thoroughly ravaged
rendered restless by
electric euphoria
and made abstruse by
erratic recollections

so excuse me
from the world of
tangibles and consequentials
allow me
my intermittent retreats
into myself
more than anything else
driven by fear

the fear that
my innocuous indulgence
might regress to
rapacious glut
if left unbridled

afterall
tempted by fruits rediscovered
i succumbed
the flesh is strong but the spirit is weak

so excuse me
please
for my speciously distracted
social disposition

multi-tasking was never my forte

and it doesn't help that

the frog
is still stuck in my throat.

from singa with love

dear musang,
i heard the news today
they said it's cold and there's no
food or water or shelter
from rain or hail or snow
they said it's getting colder
each day brings with it
doom and gloom and chills
of fear and frost
i wish you weren't so bold
i wish you'd stop
rushing where angels fear to tread
i wish you'd come back
to where it's warm
i wish you love and hope and
faith
that tomorrow will live to tell another story

i wish you well.

you.used.to.be.my.playground.

pada zaman dahulu ada seorang budak bernama Rokyah yang suka sekali pergi bermain di sebuah taman. walaupun taman itu jauh di ufuk timur, budak itu sanggup meredah hutan belantara konkrit untuk sampai ke taman itu. malangnya pada suatu hari Kerajaan Wilayah Timur telah mengumumkan yang taman itu akan ditutup buat selama-lamanya.

Rokyah: yesterday as i sat in my usual seat, in my usual posture, weaving my way between the conscious, subconscious and sublime, i finally heard her speak to me:

"you packed you bags and left
walked out of my life
after popping in and rummaging through me
looking for things i didn't know i own
thoughts i didn't know i had
emotions i didn't know i felt

i tried to open the the doors that you locked
after you packed your bags and left
but they refused to budge
as if to say go
just go
we've left
what are you doing here
scavenging for leftover scraps of memories
to bring home and stick into your diary

i tried to open the doors that you locked from inside
i banged till my hand hurts
stopping
only to realize
that it's my heart that throbs

so tell me
what am i supposed to do
now that you've decided to pack your bags and leave
what am i supposed to do
now that you're done deconstructing me"

"i feel you, babe," i replied, half in awe, half freaked out that her thoughts, reverberating in my head, are exact echoes of my own. and that was all and then she kept mum, as she usually does. the silent observer whose four walls have born witness to the triumphs, trials and tribulations of the so many pilgrims who have gone her way and gone on. or stayed.

i begin to wonder, was she reading my mind as she spoke to me? or was i just talking to myself again?

she spoke to me yesterday. spoke to me in my own voice

ode to MR tambourine MAN

Lust comes in spurts
tempted by fruits undiscovered

Oh buckley
play that song for me
The one that makes me sigh in pain
The one that makes me writhe in vain

Oh buckley
play that DVD
show me the sight I sought to see
the flick of hair that makes me tingly
the protruding pelvic of my rock star deity

before I knew buckley and his dyer maker
i knew lust
now i feel lust
sashaying past
throwing in my way a come-hither glance

thank you for the music, buckley
oh it was music to my ears

now I finally get
what the nympho meant
when in her throes of euphoria
she sighs
“this is better than sex siah…”

how.this.blog.got.its.name.

satu.satu.saya.sayang.ibu.

once upon a time, in a sleepy town further south of Melaka called Muar there lived a sweet lass called Hamimah. the village beauty she's not, though she does possess a certain je ne sais quoi, or so the story goes...

Hamimah, being the obedient and relatively religious lass that she is goes to a certain learned man's house to learn to recite the Qur'an everyday. this learned man has a son of her age, called Nash. through meticulously planned accidental run-ins and bump-intos, Nash managed to worm his way into Hamimah's affections. and so begin the innocent love story of yore; back in a time and place where love is still pure and innocent and sigh-inducing and awe-inspiring. the courtship blossoms, as all good courtships should, though never crossing the predetermined boundaries dictated by their faith and culture. yet still the love shines through, neither lacking nor wanting in terms of expression and manifestation.

one day, Hamimah found out that a young man from a foreign land, Mahadi has asked for her hand in marriage and his suit was accepted by her parents. so she abided by their decision cause she came from a time when people still believe that "syurga itu di bawah telapak kaki ibu". he whisked her away on his steed back to his land with the promise of a better life.

Nash, armed with the lyrical skills his father had passed on to him, set forth on a journey many forsaken young lads before him had gone on. the path to the capital was treacherous and wrought with pitfalls and traps. however, thanks to the prayers of his parents and his tenacity, Nash made it big in the capital. he became the lead of a band of bards called "Lefthanded", had a few hit singles, went solo, had a few more hit singles and eventually settled down.

Hamimah found a new life in the foreign land; singing nasyid with a group of women called the "An-Nujum", cut one record, had three kids and eventually settled down.

her first-born, a girl by the name of Nurhashida, was told this story the night Malaysia won the Thomas Cup during the reign of the Sidek Dynasty. Nash sang the theme song, "jika kau fikirkan kau boleh". her wandering mind started to wonder about the what-ifs. what if Hamimah had ended up with Nash? what if they too, had a firstborn who's a girl, on the 1st of april 1981? what if, being the IT rocker couple of that time, they decide to bestow their rock princess the rocking-est malay name ever? what if Nurhashida had been a ROKyah? what if...?

and so that's how this blog got its name. a lil rockstar-wannabe went on a fanciful flight to the land of what-ifs and make-believes.

nevertheless...

they live, happily ever after.

*dates and names of ppl and places have been changed to protect the identity of the characters.*


fact or fiction?

wallahu alam missawab.

gurindam.buat.si.su'un

SYAIR LAILA MAJNUN

thaib

Terkulai di puncak rindu
Tenggelam dalam sendu
Kasih mu tak siapa
Bisa tanggalkan

Biar luka parah
Biar jiwa lara
Kasih mu yang sebati
Sukar ku pisah

Siapa bisa rasakan
Gelora cinta si Laila
Siapa gerangan
Kalaulah bukan Majnun

Mesti ada saksi
Mesti tegak bukti
Sebuah pengorbanan
Sebagai ganti

Lafazkan cinta mu satu
Azamkan cinta mu satu
Nazarkan cinta mu satu

Kibarkan cinta mu satu
Laungkan cinta mu satu
Juangkan cinta mu satu

seni lagu & dendangan: ramli bin sarip
seni kata: loloq


majnun: bermaksud gila atau hilang kemampuan untuk berfikir secara bernas.

sing song

muqadimmah.

bahasa penjajah kita; duli yang maha mulia Mister Atau Tuan Salleh memang tidak miskin dengan frasa-frasa atau lingo kesat. Yang akan menjadi renungan tika ini ialah frasa pembayang ataupun bunga kepada tajuk topik ini.

talk cock.

jika kita menggunakan teknik takrihan jurus, frasa itu dalam bahasa ibunda bermaksud perbualan ayam jantan.
salah satu masalah yang dapat saya bayangkan jika takrihan inilah yang akan kita gunakan sebagai tunjak diskusi ini ialah suatu masalah teknikal. pembangunan vis a vis kemajuaan pesat telah menyebabkan diaspora ayam-ayam jantan daripada apa yang suatu masa dulu merupakan "kampong nelayan yang ngantok" (read: Singapore, the once sleepy fishing village) kepada apa yang sekarang masih merupakan "kampong nelayan yang ngantok" (read: Kelantan, Tioman dan kawasan pedalaman M'sia yang sewaktu dengannya). lantas di situ dapat kita lihat dengan jelas betapa rumitnya tugas menerangkan cara ayam jantan berbual jika khalayak ramai tidak mempunyai hubungan ekologi yang rapat dengan ayam jantan. jadi lupakan sahaja...

manakala, jika kita tukil makna kesatnya pula, (maaf kata lah yer...) berbual KONEK!, dapat saya imbas dalam mata minda saya suatu perbincangan yang rancak dan tempat berputiknya lebih banyak lagi buah fikiran yang bernas. pembangunan vis a vis kemajuaan pesat telah menyebabkan KONEK! menjadi suatu objek harian yang sering bersua muka dengan kaum Adam dan juga Hawa secara amnya. oleh itu lebih eloklah jika kita menumpukan perhatian kepda frasa "berbual KONEK!".

KONEK! merupakan alat genitalia kaum Adam yang mempunyai dwifungsi. sebagai orifis tubuh yang mengeluarkan air kencing; yang merupakan campuran agen-agen toksida daripada tubuh kita DAN air mani; yang merupakan cecair yang merupakan titik permulaan proses penyuburan benih dan pembiakan.

bayangkanlah jauhnya jurang antara kedua fungsi alat tubuh badan ini.
antara menjijikkan dan menghidupkan.
perlu.

justeru itu, dapat kita membuat usulan yang perbualan KONEK! itu adalah perbualan yang mungkin akan lebih menambah pekung di dada dan mencemarkan lagi keadaan ATAU kata-kata yang dapat menjernihkan air yang keruh dan memberi nafas baru kepada sesuatu situasi yang sudah tidak bermaya.

perlu.

inna waaminkum takkabal ya kariim.

yay,
now i can go sing my song of sixpence.

cause that's probably all this talk cock is worth.

red thread
just so i won't forget.

apologies,
the brain is not the raging, info junkie that it once was.

exposure to polluted natural environment and toxic man-made agents has dulled its edges and slowed down the cogs of recognition (no pun intended!) or more accurately, of faihful reconstruction of past events, thoughts and speech.

thus i deem it necessary... nay! CRUCIAL that i jot down this particular train of thought before it derails and falls into the torrid river underneath the bridge. (ala criter-criter koboi lama-lama)

-quote
the best tots i have happen just before i sleep...
it's a memory exercise
to have to remember what it was the next morning...

slowly exercising my brain muscle....

one day i will remember what happen to my fishermen friend's tin!"
-unquote.

barometer.of.love

menurut dapatan sebuah latihan sociologi yang dijalankan baru-baru ini di kalangan penduduk-penduduk kota, semakin banyak pasangan dewasa ini menggunakan kesihatan hubungan seksual mereka sebagai kayu ukur perasaan cinta mereka antara satu sama lain.

jika kajian ini terbukti benar, sekalung simpati saya hulurkan kepada kaum-kaum etnik yang seringkali dikaitkan dengan daya atau nafsu seksual yang lemah.

"when your reputation precedes you."

hancurlah impian-impian ala cinderella gadis-gadis kaum itu. dan jika berita ini disebarkan, tentu sekali jejaka-jejaka daripada kaum etnik ini akan meghadapi kerumitan mencari pasangan hidup. tetapi jika mereka berjaya mendapat seseorang sekalipun, kenyataan yang wanita-wanita itu memilih mereka setelah mengetahui tentang reputasi mereka tentu sekali akan membuat mereka sangsi akan ketulenan cinta wanita-wanita tersebut terhadap mereka.

ditelan mati mak, dimuntah mati bapak...

dyer maker- led zeppelin

"dyer maker" tu kalau diterjemahkan secara asli ke dalam bahasa melayu maknanya pembuat tinta. walaupun kita hidup dalam dunia yang sangat canggih dan metropolitan, tidak dapat kita nafikan kepentingan and keperluan tinta dalam hidup harian kita. tidak dapat juga kita ketepikan kesan tinta dalam pembentukan jati diri kita.

antara ciri-ciri utama tinta yang membuatkan ianya sesuatu yang sangat relevan dalam masyarakat hari ini meskipun sudah ada penemuan-penemuan baru yang jauh lebih maju ialah sifatnya yang berwarna-warni.

dengan tinta kebolehan manusia untuk berkarya, berdusta and merealisasikan impian-impian mat jenin mereka dapat dimanifestasikan dalam sifat yang lebih nyata. tinta menjasadkan buah fikiran dan cerita dongeng tanpa memilih antara yang "baik" atau yang "buruk" dengan aneka warna. kerana tinta, lahirlah salvador dali dan jalaluddin rumi, penyajak sufi yang unggul. kerana tinta juga, lahirlah tok selampit and juga gerakan zionisma yang merupakan punca terkorbannya berjuta rakyat Palestin yang tidak berdosa.

kita mudah berpendapat yang tinta merupakan sekadar satu daripada pelbagai wahana komunikasi yang sedia ada untuk penggunaan kita. kita sering meremeh-temehkan kesan-kesan negatif penyalahgunaan tinta. ini adalah satu kesilapan besar. cuba kita renungkan sejenak, apakah bezanya perbualan antara dua teman tentang seseorang melalui telefon dan sebuah keratan di dalam naskah majalah tabloid? perbualan itu berakhir di situ. selebih-lebihnya pun, ia menjadi desas-desus yang agak sangsi kebenarannya. keratan itu pula dapat dibaca, diedarkan, dikongsi, dicetak-lagi dan kesahihannya jarang dipertikaikan. lalu apa yang kemungkinan besar hanyalah coretan dongeng seseorang yang suka berselampit menjadi suatu fakta yang dipercayai and diguna-kembali oleh masyarakat secara amnya.

mungkin kerana itulah, robert plant sehingga sanggup merayu and merintih supaya si pembuat tinta itu jangan pergi meninggalkannya.

"baby please, don't go..."

mungkin kerana dia tahu betapa berleluasanya kesan tinta dalam kehidupan masyarakat sejagat secara amnya.

"kerana setitik nila rosak susu sebelanga."

atau mungkin kerana dia ingat kata orang-orang tua.

"the pen is mightier than the sword."

so anyway, dah tu

knowing about but not known to.
the beauty and bane of anonymity.

i got guilty about being a voyeur, weaving in and out of ppl's lives.
i got tired of swallowing my smartass wisecracks at the tragic dramedy of their lives.

i got ashamed of my incessant lust for the next wow-inducing episode of their so-called lives.

so i hereby end my reign as queen of voyeur;
feeling vicariously through others.
cheering at their triumphs, sobbing at their falls from grace, jaded by their heartbreaks.

none of it is real anyway.

takkan lah hidup diaorang semua betul-betul macam OC meets Desperate Housewives meets Charmed with camoes from the characters of The Practice kan? kan..?

so let's sing a song of sixpence and spin us some spiderwebs.

tomorrow
another twisted tale told.
another plot thickens.

all i gotta say is...
sorry i'm not home right now
walking into spiderwebs
leave a message and i'll call you back
*beep*

right...
like i'm really going to call YOU back.

things that make you go hmm....

let's see if this work. can't really trust technology nowadays....