A TEENY JUMBLED GRAFFITI SITE
©
Graffiti ©BROUGHT TO YOU WITH LOVE FROM INDONESIA
Living Light
the night is with the wind
rain knocking hard on the rooftop
then ... suddenly
silence befalls us all
a candle blown by the wind
flickers
its light not flaring proud
yet denying death
life is
a cycle wheeling around
from celebration to nothingness
our will to live flickers, as the flame flares and dims down
there is a time for everything
nothing is ever constant except for life itself
Joyce, Jakarta, January '92
I Shall Never Kneel
you may take me, o life!
my mind, my blood, my flesh
in my young life, I am still fresh
you may try to drain me, tame me, maim me
and create my distress
but nevertheless
it is I who will choose to feel
and to you I shall never kneel
you may try to take me, o life!
you shall have my body, never my soul
you can never make me foul
for you shall not own me
renowned for it I shall be
try me, mold me, and fold
but I shall be bold
and bow to you I shall not do
I belong to the One, life - you do too
you may take me, o life!
for I have no fear of death
I take one breath knowing there's an end to that breath
as it should be, when there's a coming
there will be a going
death is merely a phase
that I do not chase
nor do I avoid
because I know
death is not a void
you may take me, o life!
my mind, my blood, my fleash
in my young life whilst I am fresh
you may try to tame me
drain me, maim me
create my distress
nevertheless
it is I who choose to feel
and to you I shall never kneel!
Joyce, Jakarta, September 20th, '93
Will
my will is stone
my power is strong
destroy me if you can!
you mistake my gentleness for weakness
my silence for approval and acceptance
my cooperation for stupidity and compliance
my love for humanity for power
you turned your coats
colours of love turned to betrayal
and try to destroy me
I am me, fully as how
I present myself to you
I have nothing hidden
but my will is stone
my power is strong
you cannot destroy me
I have no wish to strike back
for the strike you lash at me
will return to yourself multiplied
in power of your own anger
you cannot destroy me
I have survived for my will of stone
and the strength within!
Joyce for KH, Jakarta, April 12th '93
The Vow
rain was on me today
I thought it was gonna be heavy
was just a shower, really
I hear the laughter
could the laughter be on me?
just shrug, I have no fear
they thought I was a china doll
don't you see, how droll
they'll soon find, I am no fool
I don't break easy
under light rain or heavy
I will keep trodding, on my way
mother, I don't kneel
before suffering
I keep it down, under my heel
how can anything make me kneel
if I do not feel?
it's true, they may say I'm unreal
but maybe one day they'll know
they cannot make me bow
only to those who suffer, I'll bow low
I won't be timid and I'll show
how I will flourish and flow
have the last laugh and glow
for you
my dear mother of heaven
this is my vow
Joyce, Kuta, Bali, September 26th, '93
Her Wish
she wanted to be like me
and I locked my eyes unto hers
she asked me how to become like me
then I looked within myself
into the past and present of my life
looking at the turning points and events
that might have made me, me
but I only saw rooms without keys
and an endless hallway
my life was filled with strife and struggle
a chain of distress and hardships
many times I had to rely on myself
containing all the calamities within
standing strong when I was weak
running on broken legs
I suffered, but suffered well
and during these times I gave
what I had wanted most to receive
some was like throwing salt into the ocean
but it gave me the satisfaction
no one can ever take away from me
I am not complaining for all the hardships
the struggle and distress were meaningful
without it, I would not have
opened my eyes like I have now
nor would I be who I am to you now
without the struggle and calamities
my life would be of mere boredom
void of enlightments
I refuse to rationalize
to justify my present
from the events in my past
although they may be links
that tells the story of my life
but without it, would I be less me
with it, would you be like me?
if you ask me how to become like me
I must return the question
'in what way?'
you are unique
I am unique
you are beautiful as you are now
the difference that exists between us two
is what makes life beautiful
and the very things that draws us together
Joyce for EH, Jakarta, April '93
Hey, My Once-in-Need Friend
Remember me?
say, hey ....
can't you look at me in the eye?
I don't see why
you've become that way
the basic weakness in humans,.
ever noticed this?
they have such short memories
maybe because I have no gold coins
when they need you
they bawl and crawl
they don't even care
whether it's night or day
they say, hey
you know me
I need you
you're my best friend
when they prosper
they are ready to lie
they may even forget your name
was your name ... er ... who?
then I say, hey ... !
they whisper ... sorry
I say, it's okay, I don't need anything
I'm just sorry, you have such short memory
I won't say you drained my sweat
ate my flesh
and drunk my blood
sucked to its last drop
don't you remember?
I don't give them a reason
to hate me
I smile at them
I humor myself
I merely observe and
I reserve the satisfaction that
I always had my hand above theirs
I remain kindly sincere
I owe them nothing
ultimately for me
they help me separate
Gold from dirt
Joyce, Jakarta, December 30th, '92
Uprooted
how can you say you are grass rooted
when you have already uprooted yourself?
losing the links to your past
you have lost your footings on the ground
but your roots does not live on air
as it has no substance to support you
and you say you are grass rooted
when by your own choice you have become uprooted
you do not relate to the grass no more
neither do you understand the way
of the flying birds in the deep blue sky
how vulnerable you are
now
Joyce, February 2nd, '93
Unity with Nature
I laid myself stretched upon the grass of spring
and saw a myriad of colors in the vast skies
noting the changing patterns of the white clouds
and the birds soaring in flocks
I let the night blanket me with a thousand stars
twinkling their eyes and loving me
warming my soul
throughout
I am a mere pheasant who labors
for her daily meal and peace of mind
yet as I laid stretched upon the grass of spring
I became a cloud, uniting with the stars
losing all sense of meaninglessness
that my very existence became one
with the existence of the whole
harmonized universe
Joyce, Palika Park, New Delhi, March 20th, '93
Fragrant Flower
come forward and blossom
my sweet fragrant flower
the bitterness of winter
has just left us and the promise
of summer can be tasted
from the warmth in the air
and the chirping of the sparrows
and the breeze caressing your stems
and yawning eye buds
come awake and greet the sun
my sweet fragrant flower
and taste the dewdrops on your petals
that taste as sweet as wine
and send your fragrance
to the north, south, east and west
so the air will smell sweet
with your fragrance
and the spring radiant
with your proud colours
the winter has left us
my sweet fragrant flowers
the cold pangs of winter and draft
is no more than the past
let us toil and come, my flower
greet the soil that will bring us
harvest in the summers to come
live to the utmost now, my flower
so we may greet
the autumns and winters of our lives
contented
Joyce for the flowers, Surajkund, India, March 15th, '93
Bali Wind
balinese wind
do you feel the cold
time is running wild
I'm losing my mid
here I start
here I stop
somewhere in between
transformations took place
some in you
some in me
somehow in between
those changes created a space
lost in words
lost in thoughts
my world might shatter
strangely it don't matter
are you happy?
am I sad?
you don't know how I feel
I don't know how to feel
farewell to thee
farewell to me
maybe my regret
memory don't ever forget itself
be on your way, o wind
I'll be okay
you never knew me
never looked into my eye
cobwebs are gone
soon, I'll too be gone
you don't believe in this
I won't make a fuss
here I start
here I now stop
Balinese wind
such a sad rewind
Joyce, Kuta Beach, Bali, September 20th, '93
Kuasa!
bila kuasa ada di tangan
maka bukan tak mungkin
kebajikan dan keangkuhan
terlontar terlahir bersamaan
dari jari jemarinya
ia mampu menarik tangan lain
dalam doa pun menggerakkannya
mengangkat pedang dan perisai
kuasa adalah
benih cinta pun sumpah serapah
berjuta langkah
terpimpin dari jemarinya
yang bisa menjadi serakah
pilihlah cinta
yang mengekalkan langkah
tirani tanpa kasih
cuma mengekalkan
cacian pun sumpah serapah!
Joyce, Jakarta, January 25th, '93
Polusi
terasa debu menggelepar
di antara kau dan aku
Jakarta banyak polusi
kita tak bisa lagi saling
melihat
di balik kabut yang menyamarkan diri
aneh bila apa yang pernah ada
bisa teracuni begitu saja
tapi aku yakin
polusi terbesar ada
pada dirimu dan diriku
Joyce, Jakarta, January 28th, '93
Two Sided Coin
so this is the first world country city
the brisk air welcomed me
the apple blossoms along the roadsides
yellow marigolds dots the otherwise all green grass
the ferry tooting along the East Side river
a stranger in another world
did I see what I expected to see
or am I in awe
with what they all wanted me to see?
two loves passionately kissing by the roadside
the infamous imperial building at a distance
yet the garbage on the sidewalks catch the corner of my eye
I chuckled to myself
as in any city
this city offers both sides of a coin
only in a bigger magnitude
why do people tend forget that?
Joyce, Gramercy Park, NY, May 3rd, 1993
Frustration
they are pressing me to do something
that I also wanted to do
but what I cannot do at this point
they are urging me to climb the mountains
which is also what I want to do
but is something I cannot do at this point
all this could bring me to
an understanding of the word
'frustration'
yet, I would do it
anyway
simply because
I want to
would not matter to me if
I 'can' or I 'cannot'
doing it this way will make me
understand what is meant by the word
'trial and error'
I still can go by
by my own standard of
learning
can you?
Joyce, Jakarta, March 7, '93
Intention
how can I say that
I can see what you see
when I see only what I can see
and what I see
is not much
it is not as much as you say it is
it is not much less than what I say it is
all it comes down to in the end is this
you want me to
believe
this is
what you say it is
Joyce, NY, June 6, '93
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Y E S !
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s
Joyce & David s