A Greeting from Rivoli
by Nuruddin Asyhadie
– m
hornbills flew away
leaving the sacred forest
of your body
and the sky became red
by pain and desperation
the death will come
momently
la cheminee du roi rene
by Nuruddin Asyhadie
at the wave of grass
cheney lit up the pipe of the king.
smoke blowed in the air, prayings
pierching of dawn cracked.
the sun wriggled at heavens,
dark,
scracking the yellow
and red light at his eyes.
frogs in the ponch
singing the haiku of bhaso and buson,
and at the tip of grass dangled,
syibumi appeared
but here, you want to built
your own solitude:
“will you chase away those frogs for me?”
the lost christmas tree
by Nuruddin Asyhadie
desember without christmas tree, the bride
without ring at her finger. grinch stealed cheese
of your breakfast, cracked the hillside
costa brava—cadaques
“don’t let that shark eat the sole .”
you run up to the altar. licked through
the blood tears of maria.
pecking palm of your own hand at
the cross of crist
but those candles still did not flare up.
“don’t let that shark!” you cried
at the last waltz
by Nuruddin Asyhadie
at the last waltz, you pushed my body away
still you smelled the rest firewood of warlock hunt.
burning bodies;
“why did you burn those cats?”
eyelid of yours, the unseathed hothead paisan,
charlotte the swollen mouth,
but haven’t we forget the tale at the wall,
the tale of eyes and knife,
curling maid and conceit.
sofa like a beach
served her breast for the sailor.
there was no moonlight here.
clear-bright and splendid surabaya.
“why did you burn those cats?”
my my lai, my hiroshima, my dachau, jostling filling
your vagina. but do i care?
that sentimentality, unpulverished walls. a half empty glass
don’t you want to be icarus bitting the nustril of lazarus.
“where is the wind! where is the wind!”
but there is no wind here,
dear
there is no wind here
Writer: Milan Kundera
Writer: Neale Donald Walsch
Writer: Nuruddin Asyhadie
Writer: Nuruddin Asyhadie
