from jepara with love

poor cat

poor cat
his feet only three
he doesn't want to death
he doesn't want our pity

he want to show to the world
that he is as strong as steel
and to the bird
that he is not ill

he can find food by himself
without help from the other
even from the chef
who is ready to help the other

poor cat walks very robust
in the sidewalk in the elite housing
he is free to choose
which rubbish basket is interesting

search for food
which is left a lot
he doesn't care his foot
he eat all food he got

poor cat want to be a poet
who make poem for his love
he doesn't want to be an abbot
who is forbidden to have love

poor cat want to be a soldier
who fight for his love
who can face all danger
who love peace like dove

poor cat want to be a gambler
who won his love
who hate to be a loser
always be on top above

poor cat want to be a dreamer
who always be with his love
who always be together
never part from his love

poor cat want to be a doctor
who cure his love
who need to be looked for
who has a bad caugh

my flower is gone

my flower is gone
stole by someone
i look for it round and round
even in my barn

only smell left behind
stick into my nose sharply
even though i am blind
but i smell it clearly

left only a sepal
which may be fall as a sign
i must found my gall
to wander and left my dine

for me to let it over
or for me to remember it
i just want my power
to go and found it

i miss my flower
and its color which is red
i don't want it is over
i want it back in my bed

its thorn which is fierce
its leaf which is green
i think it is obvious
that my flower is my place to lean

i want all that
back in my side
i remember its red
all day and all night

i want my flower back
in my lap again
i don't want a check
i want a chance

to be with my flower in a bay
together as one bone
never go away
and left me alone

i love my flower
and i know my flower love me
even if i am wrong in mind of other
i will still believe that my flower loves me

on the way

on the way
in the morning light
not so bright
yet is not dark
it feels painful
rather on longing
for the voice to come
whispering in my ear
those words of unspoken
till the day you here
more night more week
the first time
the heavy door weighing