PUstaka puJAngga

evil groom

let me do some infidelity first
before we talk
of marriage
of children
of all the happiness that young couples dream of

I’m a fallen angel
destined to be human
in the rainbow of the city’s night lights

let me kiss the sharp blade
of the night wind’s curses first
before I can talk
of love
and of you

I’m an evil beast
destined to roam my own
wounds
on the smooth skin of your night sisters

just let me finish this last drink first
before my heart get sober
to let the scornful priest
say his cursing
amen

after Baudelaire

suppose I step into your life
mother of memories
mistress of mistresses
like some ancient chinese junk
driven by a favouring wind
bringing an evening of dreams
a full moon and silky stars
as the night gradually closes like a mystic screen…

I’ve enough dreams to fill a thousand verses
where only metaphors exist
and angelic fireflies flapping their blinking giant wings
in a slow movement
amidst the monotonous sound of a bamboo flute
played by a little brown boy
dreaming on the back of a grazing water-buffalo

suppose I step into your life
gently like the distant mountain appearing
out of the rising early morning mist
bringing sunshine and a thousand bird songs
and the shrill whistle of a train
coming into the station…

suppose…

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Filed under: Poetry, PUstaka puJAngga