Saturday, October 24, 2009

between the meetings

this morning i saw from my window a battle ship floating steadily on the sea. the thai gulf. i thought it was quite an unusual sight. because normally when i wake up just before sunrise, and sitting on my bed or on the chair - alone in the balcony, drinking cold milo, i might expect to find fishermen's boats on the waters or airplanes in the sky. but today it was a naval force. maybe it was a smaller frigate, a cruiser, floating slowly behind the lines of coconut trees that surround the swimming pools.

i realised then that perhaps the security measures have been intensified to protect this yearly gathering from unwanted surprises and uninvited guests. i know that good news may come and go as they please. we are but a transit place for them. we hardly know any new press release is to be published from the sky.

hmm... today i also sense a form of de déjà-vu.

i'm with the same good fellows with whom i worked a year ago in the city of lion. arranging similar occasions for different persons. high level, top level, both.

but i know now what i didn't then. that's why i feel somehow more prepared to expect things that are closer to reality now. i must make sure the time and the venue are available for the bilateral talks. and don't forget the material too.

from here, with warm thoughts of cha am, phetchaburi, and hua hin, prachuap khiri khan.

Friday, October 23, 2009

sovereign entrance

"please refrain from walking on the carpet,"
says a signboard in front of the hotel entrance.
so the red carpet was covered with a white sheet;
a sacred pathway prepared only for the sovereign.

i saw the signboard when i arrived there,
a hotel in cha am, thailand,
where we are assigned as the troupe from jakarta.

the rest of the work is done somewhere else,
another hotel located not very far away from the 'sovereign'.

this morning, before i entered the site,
my eyes fell upon a line of children sitting on the roadsides,
wearing their school uniform,
waving the flags of our nations: the southeast asians, and our friends'.
that sight reminded me of my days as a student in elementary school,
when i did the same.

look, there are more security officials than the town folks.
the emissaries are here now.
but the top leader is still about to arrive.
his excellency and his newly appointed minister.
so we are preparing for their arrivals and their schedules.

somewhere in this secluded location,
where the envoys meet.

Sunday, October 04, 2009

white mug

this is but me and my simple rituals, which i perform tonight with a white mug, as i revisit this one-way street in jakarta city. cikini.

i came in; and they nodded.
they roasted the beans finer than they usually did,
and poured the strong result into a white mug.

seemed like they knew what i was coming for:
work until late,
right here, close to the window,
where you could see me,
and i could see you,
if you were a pedestrian.

i placed my devices on the round marble table,
and unrolled my earphones from its spiral box.

just by gazing into the white mug,
i could smell and absorb everything:
it contains essential elements of which inspirations are generously made.

i was also thinking of you,
who are perhaps not so keen to go out tonight.
because the forecast said it was about to rain.
it was probably only my guess:
but if i asked you,
directly or through the electronic device that you carried,
wouldn't your answer be ambiguous too?

so i took a pair of antique wooden chairs,
and let the white mug steaming,
blurring the window glass.
it sat unaccompanied
except by me
who was, like it, steaming,
and performing my simple rituals...

guitara

"there are people i know who have a very finely developed sense of nostalgia," said leo. well, i don't know i fit into the criteria of being nostalgic. i just miss my guitar. and maxim's guitar too. especially when i'm back from work, and with a certain kind of mood for a song. the tunes ring in my head. but where did i leave my guitar? i couldn't find it anywhere. not even in my home. i left the instrument last year before i went to oxford. who might be using it now, i don't know. nobody knows where you are. how near of how far...

Thursday, October 01, 2009

dark room

heeiiiysss mr mosquis, fly away from me plisss,
need some sleep right here; can't stand your buzzing noise.
i speak no chineze, and don't understand this,
so stop buggin' me with your itching kiss.

(and thizis what mr mosquis sez:)

"i aint comin' to bring ye a kiss,
let alone to converse in chineze.
'am here just to see ye freeze,
without blanket in the mornin' breeze."