Poems, Essays and Wannabes
by
Helmy Kusuma
Published by
Poems, Essays and Wannabes
Copyright 2011 Helmy Kusuma
****
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied, and distributed for non commercial purposes, provided that the book remains in its complete original form, and the author given credit
****
One Day
At the intersection, Traffic light’s out, Clouds are rolling by.
Invitation to Dinner Party
Today I had decided to have a dinner party at my house.
I cooked delicious meals: pasta, noodle, bread, rice, prata, capcay, tempe and tofu, and all sorts of cake, snack, appetizer, and juice and fruit platter, and soup and herb.
I prepared a big round table dressed with batik and a rainbow-coloured satin, golden spoons and knifes and forks and titanium chopsticks, porcelain plates and bowls and diamonds-clad cups, and not to forget, beautiful chandeliers.
I put a large red Persian carpet on the floor, paintings from famous men on the walls: Picasso, Affandi, Leonardo, and crystal clear ornaments on the ceiling.
I lighted thousand candles and burnt heaven scented incense from India, from Bali, and I played a symphony of harmonic melodies and then I invited them in.
A tired looking man with his bushy beard, white and ancient, I invited him in.
A smiling lady with her long gown, I invited her in.
A group of little children playing in the park, I invited them in.
A suspicious man with eyes darting here and there, I invited him in.
A beautiful woman with a long hair and crystal clear eyes, I invited her in.
A mob of men plotting to rob the bank, I invited them in.
Brilliant business men going home from the office, I invited them in.
Gorgeous women wearing latest fashion models, I invited them in.
Drivers, security guards, servants, detectives, officials, I invited them in.
People from all walks of life, I invited them in.
I invited them in, family and non-family, friend and foe, old and young and child, man and woman, have and not-have, smart and dumb, healthy and bedridden, happy and sad, successful and sidetracked, I invited them in.
And when everybody was settled on their chair, I closed the door and look around. There is nobody, only thousand mirrors and, I see me.
The Box in the Middle
There is a box in the middle, I often stumble, and feel fumble, and do I grumble.
And when I do, I kick it, I stomp at it, I yell at it, I curse at it.
My feet gets sore, my hands get sore, my feeling gets sore, my mind gets sore.
There is a box in the middle, lately it has attracted my attention like never before, I can't seem to understand why.
I walk around it like a curious child wondering what is under the Christmas tree.
There is a box in the middle, and I have decided, finally, to open it.
I run my fingers on it until I feel its lid, and then I open the lid in an eager anticipation of what’s in it.
There is a switch in the middle, and I push it to start to meddle, and oh something terrible happens, my eyes get hurt, my head gets hurt, my mind gets hurt, and so I tap it as fast as I could, and all is okay once again.
There is a box in the middle, although it has pain me, I can not forget it really.
So I rush again to open it, to feel the lid, to trigger the switch.
Oh still I feel my eyes get hurt, my head gets hurt and my minds get hurt, but I stand like a warrior defending my clan.
And then, I can see something that could not be, a sight of thousand colours, a place of thousand articles, a universe of million splendours.
There is a box in the middle.
It is a light switch. And now I know, that all this time I have been crawling on the wall.
The Grand Exhibition
Today there is a grand exhibition at the city hall.
It opens a whole year, twenty-four times seven.
Many flock to see it, young and old and weariness, poor and rich and hopelessness, man and woman and insecurities.
They all gather to see this spectacular show, of a mysterious sculptor-and-painter-and-artist-and-many-more-such-a-title-bethroted-to-him-or-her-nobody-know-or-maybe-it's-it.
And when the door is finally open for the first time, all marvel at the beauties of many exquisite creations, for a while, then curiosity ensues.
"He must be a man, look at those complex engineering."
"No, she must be a woman, look at those intricate details."
They start arguing with each other and, they completely forget about the splendours that lie before them...
Diamonds in The Sky
We are at the end of the world. My name is Helmy and I am reporting this live.
The year is 501x AA -- After Awakening.
We have known about it for a long time. It had been told over and over again that today is the day. The whole world is quiet and at peace. I would call it, solemn. Everyone is living their last day to the fullest content of their heart -- jovial but quiet.
I, myself, am strolling down the street with my spouse on my side. We are enjoying, what I call, perhaps, the best day of my life.
Suddenly I see the sky turns into a pinkish blue, and quite abruptly, diamonds, yes, diamonds, in perhaps the size of a small car, appear. At that instant, I, instinctively know, that we will continue on, that somehow there will be days ahead of us.
Everyone is solemnly marching to the end of the road, at the tip of the hill, where vast ocean could be seen below the pinkish sky. We notice the diamonds have fell over to the ocean, leaving the ocean glitteringly wonderful.
My spouse and me, we carry our board and station ourselves at the top.
Together, we and the rest of humanity, watch at the beautiful sparkling sea, and hold praise to these wonderful moment.
What do YOU want?
I’ve been thinking these few days, especially after an event of energy release. An event seen in itself as accident, but indeed was a release from accumulated energies blocked by limitation. I now know that the way is not the same anymore, it has shorter delays to manifestation now, which implies responsibility and acceptance to myself, the creator.
I’ve chosen this and by no means of any remorse, but apparently I had not realize the gravity of things, not until the release. It had me stunned for several seconds, but then I resumed breathing. Breathe…deep. And it had me thinking for hours after.
What do YOU want?
What do I want? What I do really want without the burden of shoulds and haves. Forget about we have to work for living. Forget about we should be kind to people. Forget about them for this simple question. It’s all about YOU.
So again, what do I want? What I do really want without the fidgety of planning which steps to take, what are the prerequisites. Forget about the chain of things to a goal. Forget about mundane tasks to be done to achieve something. Forget them.
What do YOU want?
Make it clear, very clear in your mind’s eye, very clear in your heart.
What do YOU want? For me the ans
wer is very simple, and I am surprised at myself how my mind had been dictating this and that, and forgetting myself.
To live easy, harmonious with natures, creating ideas and manifesting them by doing them with other souls with the same passion.
You are still a Rat!
You must have been familiar to the term rat race, which means a fierce competition to get something, usually cheese (because you are a rat :D), and it is an endless one so once you stop for a breath, you will be knocked out. In conclusion you will just have to keep running, and running, and running, outrunning all the other rats.
Robert Kiyosaki’s followers will most probably suggest smart investing; others such as network marketing guys, MLM guys will suggest their method of getting of the rat race.
Now, I will tell you one thing, even if you won the race or even you got out of the race, you are still a rat! You are still a rat, even if it means that you are a better, smarter, stronger, faster or just simply luckier. You are still a rat. I want you to sink that sentence for a moment. You are still a rat.
So what’s a rat really?
A rat, whether in race or not, is always in constant struggle to seek out cheese and at the same time avoid traps. It really doesn’t matter, whether you work in an office, whether you are an employee, whether you are an employer, whether you do smart investing; as long as you in constant struggle to seek out that cheese and avoiding traps, you are still a rat.
It is all a matter of perspective. How do you see your life? What’s the meaning of your life? What’s the reason you are living?
Life, my friend, is a very joyous vocation.
Life is abundance.
In life, everybody get what they ask for.
In life, everything is enough for everybody.
If a Speaker is Needed
Let’s venture awhile in the realm of imagination, realm of concept and what-ifs if you want to call it that way. Suppose that people are land areas which are indeed not so, but in this play-about scenario people are land areas and religions are countries, then in order to secure more unoccupied land areas, countries will have to aggressively expand their territories by any means possible, any means they can think of which might not be limited by prudence. After all, if gaining more unclaimed land mass is what matter the most, then perishing that land mass altogether if the country currently fighting for it could not in any perceivable way gains it, is perfectly making sense, right? Why give it or let it be occupied by other countries while this country could not control or take advantage what’s on that land, right?
Well, it sounds very well versed indeed, at least in medieval times, where unoccupied land areas mean countries we don’t recognize, where the world has beginning to see there are other countries around the world, not just some unoccupied land areas.
Now, let’s speed into modern era, where the world has been segmented nicely into countries, borders are good-mannerly settled, unless in certain areas where they stubbornly claim each rights for the lands, there are no more unoccupied land areas. We are settled or at least, those with good imagination would like to think that way, right? Sadly, no.
Although we have acknowledged each other borders, although we have acknowledged each other countries, flags for that matter, we are still declaring open wars to seize what’s currently not ours, which of course are theirs. We still want to rob, to plunder, to pillage, to loot, to ransack, to strip, to raid, to …– I’ve run out of verb – our neighbouring countries.
Isn’t that so last century?
###
About the author
Helmy Parlente Kusuma was born in Palembang, Indonesia and spent 18 years there. He went to Jakarta to continue his study in IT and worked in IT industry for a decade. He is currently living in Jakarta although still looking for a place to spend the next decade.
Also by Helmy Kusuma
Collaboration with other Indie Authors:
A Flash of Inspiration: A Collection of Very Short Stories by Indie Authors
Stay tuned for a short story in progress:
There is Hope
Connect with Me Online:
Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/hanzpk
Fb profile: https://www.facebook.com/helmy.kusuma
Fb Page: http//www.facebook.com/EL.Publish
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/4797189
My website: https://www.helmykusuma.com
Publisher: https://easternlight.hanzpk.com