A TEENY JUMBLED GRAFFITI SITE

BROUGHT TO YOU WITH LOVE FROM INDONESIA

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

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 20^th, '93

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

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 26^th, '93

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

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

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 2^nd, '93

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

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

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

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 25^th, '93

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 28^th, '93

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 3^rd, 1993

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

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

Email