Howled! '#3/4 On A Journey' Poem by Arrie Boediman La Ede

................ A journey; never know when it will end up at one point; step, mileage; too, was never able to count; every now and then I turned toward the back; many traces of the darkly not been recorded
.

In the rest of life;
recording the various battles of the danger
become a node of the incalculable
in hunting, chasing, chasing one another rush
in the stabbing, stabbing, stabbed stabbing each other

Has been thinned foot
body sweat dry on the dusty taste salty
breed idols in the head
lick the tears
breastfeeding words

I went with the wind
I came with a storm

distant;
I turned to embarrassment behind
discolor the celluloid variety of rolling dark episodes
maybe I'm rebellious
maybe I am the wicked

Foothold in the hall;
just heard, recorded the buzz word of religious
just heard the wailing of the booths forgiveness of a synagogue
just a mere perfunctory
nothing more serene than singing dirty Sodom and Gomorrah

Dust in the wind
swirling winds, winds that upset

Scriptures
those of us trying to sacred
pure and impure sanctify

; Also, increasingly embarrassed look left-right, left and right
; Too, was unable to look upwards
; Too, had no sense of measure the shadow of the body

I, myself
floating, loose, free

Finger strokes;
unravel the one embodied in a valve open and closed
liver foggy glass window
heart wall, dim
knit one billion pulses a disheveled
; Else, I was in hubris measure heartbeat hanging

In the hallway, moksha;
incense on the altar table dance catapulted to smoke soot
also, speak from the heart porch where ndak course
greeted one another, crisscrossing the hermits in drying the silent lotus
dreams, fantasies
dreaming, dreaming
bill promises goddess aurora
...................;
Since when am I here?
When I'm not here?
: 'Do not know who I am! '

Sentul Porch
© Arrie Boediman La Ede, Jakarta-Indonesia-2011