Black Red White Yellow Blues: Poetry by Jay M. Johar

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BLACK RED WHITE YELLOW BLUES JAY M. JOHAR




BLACK RED WHITE YELLOW BLUES JAY M. JOHAR This book is a collection of poetry written over a period of 8 years by Jay M. Johar.

Self-published. Copyright Š Jay M. Johar 2016 This work is licensed Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. You are free to copy and redistribute the material in any medium or format. You are free to remix, transform, and build upon the material for any purpose. You must give appropriate credit, provide a link to the licence, and indicate if changes were made. You may do so in any reasonable manner, but not in any way that suggests the licensor endorses you or your use. If you remix, transform, or build upon the material, you must distribute your contributions under the same license as the original.

You may not apply legal terms or technological measures that restrict others from doing anything the license permits.


BLACk RED WHITE YELLOW BLUES


LAIN RASA antah ah inda tau ah inda batah ani macam rasa ati selalu kabak kabak macam rasa merana kepala pun rasa samak luan banyak uri rasa luan rasa kan lari jauh mana saja pergi asal inda di sini asal inda sandi pasal ngapa pun inda ku te gitau nada rasa baibun inda lagi ada kan mau nada mood nya urang sudah frust nya durang kan beenjoy pun kurang masa kosong pun sorang nya mama inda cukup sembahyang tu nya bapa inda cukup tidur tu nya adi luan stres keraja tu nya kawan inda ada girlpren tu macam semua jua rasa ku macam bukan jua nyangku macam sebab lain jua tu macam utak sendiri kali tu ani atu ani atu anu atu balik balik atu pikiranku antah banar semua atau kelakar saja


PENGUMPAT bila ku tanya kalau ia bekunyanyang nada makna atau ada rasa salah ia menjawab jangantah terasa menyibuk jua busybody belabih kali aku terbangang inda tercakap selamba saja ia mengumpat aku pun lari balik, jarih kurapaknya nada filter siapa jua inda terasa asal kenal semua kana


URANG BRUNEI Lajutah kita bejalan coffee bean, mana saja gloria jeans pun bulih jua starbucks, mamih, banyak ada crossfit, be gym pastu makan, curi wifi facebook sakan, nasi goreng post instagram, banyak like, hashtag jua kan, malam ani kita enjoy ada keraja, biar tia kita ani urang brunai, inda keraja bisai bisai apa ada movie karang kalau siuk tiket bookingkan cerita 3d, lagi dilayan pilih show tangah malam driving highway nada kerita bulih laju jangan tah ingau urang memotong dibubut jua sampai lapas baru ati puas malam ani kita enjoy ada keraja, biar tia kita ani urang brunai, inda keraja bisai bisai


THE VIOLENCE OF MUSIC Amidst all this violence, I can hear you, Singing all the words, And the words are lovely, In-between the rare silence, I can see you, Screaming through the chorus, And we are screaming too.


A THOUSAND THOUGHTS these thousand thoughts excitedly explores reimagined realities of an unbroken us, where who we were stayed still in love and lust. Hindsight hinders hope, wouldn’t we know it. Not with courageous cowardice could we have stopped it. Slowed wit, scorned fit amidst this. I hadn’t moved, I hadn’t, didn’t, see, I was cowardly, broken by fearful distrust of self, by a voice i knew well, of a discontent mere hint of a man, revelling in the writhing, violent sighs.


LITTLE DEATH Hold me, crush me, push me away, Take me, hurt me, lead me astray, We’ll let ourselves die, Just so we feel alive, For this built, sudden high, And I hear you slightly cry, With a softness in your eyes, And the shivering of your thighs, A face I could barely see, As I’m hidden underneath, Your fingers lead me up, To let our lips touch, As you taste your own, We feel less alone, Just one night more, Shake me to my core, As we return favours, And exchange flavours, What do you feel within? Is it a part of me unseen?


THIS ISLAND Fingertips skate over tickled slopes, unsteep, sliding and stumbling, fingers lock into place, criss cross, undone, sweeping and straining, lips whisper, touch and tease, giggles, gasps, and gushes, pray for love, curse for passion, lie for truth, swear for kindness, forget the world beyond, this island will hold for now. In the summer haziness, a blurring conscience strolls over the green, awaits my hands to comb through hazelnut soft strands, to brush over milky white skin, to love, to dance, to daze years in dizzying pace, as the world slows and the times race, the melancholic beauty became my home, No more, one day she said, away and gone.


HOME IS GONE Take me home where my bones will lie, where peace is eternal and voices disappear, unto me a joyful silence will fall, all will come and none will answer, may I be forgotten as I forget the world, may my words stay as my body fades, as minds are worn and time turns bold, darkness will pass and dawn awaits. False as words and falls absurdly, Rememb’ring times we loved so much, Pain in love and pray politely, I have no qualms with thee as such.


THE REALITIES OF SPACE Space separates, timid time flies and flutters, Space spoils, lively love wears and withers, Space stops, interminable intimacy boils and bitters, Space strains, formed friendship foiled and flusters.


30 YEARS OF SUMMER Summer, summer, summer, and more summer Rain, summer rain, monsoon rain, and rain you see leading your way or coming a mile away the contrast between wet tar and dry roads and the blinding sun shining over humid weather and you ask yourself why you're here and whether you love or hate it here or somewhere in between or if it's not the here you love but the who's and what's so you drag yourself to shopping malls looking for meaning inbetween movie showings and burnt overpriced coffee searching for something more exciting than the 8-to-4.30 or earlier whenever you can get away with it everyone else does it anyway, or so you say, and so everyone else says.


SELAMAT HARI RAYA You are at that point in your life when people ask “kahwin sudah?” “ada girlfren sudah?” sudah, sudah, sudah tah Everyone asking for alreadys and all you can answer are not yets and maybes. So you retreat and hide away and divert their attention to what kueh is this and whether they made it themselves or bought it from a stay-at-home mother so they answer in great, unwanted detail and you nod and fill silences with “awu” and “banar tah tu” as you scream inside waiting for other people to hurry up and finish their conversations so you can drive away to the next source of frustration asking the same questions expecting the same answers, playfully recommending daughters or sons the cynic in you thinks “no way” but the diplomatic in you blurts out “mana saja” interjected with a forced, exasperated laugh which barely made it out didn't you have bigger plans than this? Didn't you dream to escape from the mundaneness of home and to make home out of another, where the only ones who bother to visit are the only ones who matter anyway, not the ones you fake smiles at not the ones you utter curses to in your head, oh not them, no, no, no, not them at all.


INTERESTING TIMES What interesting times, what time to be alive, what time to be young, To be passionate today and angry, To be disillusioned, trapped, and oppressed, To be home again yet so unwelcome, To be who we are here where we are now, To be among friends and see new enemies, To live in lies and to be lied to, To be silenced with threatening phrases, To be judged by condescending faces, To push back with fiery desperation, To be seen as dumb, youthful ignorance, To feel hopeless yet strong-willed to fight, To see no end in immediate sight. What interesting times, What time to die, What time to fall.


BLESSED Speculative, the thumbs swipe over the clear glass, A fragmented afterthought converted into doubtful whispers, As the towering figure extends its hands to silence them, The hounding mob shouts for truth when none was delivered, How far must we go, they say, How loud must we shout, they say, Out of the way, out of the way, he says, Can’t you see you’re blocking progress, he says, For he is truth, he is power, that part is true, His grace reminds us all that we are but nought, Compared to his presence when none compares, To doubt him at all is a crime of thought.


GREEN Tell me good things. Tell me a decorated truth. Tell me a wonderful lie. Tell me the story of when everything was good. Tell me a lovely anything. Let us leave this place. Follow me as I leave the first set of footprints on this newly-made path through the thick bushes and the thin streams. I swear we’ll end up happier than we were before. Green, green, green, green. One step, two steps. Two steps twice. Then a million more. We’ll be somewhere we never knew we wanted to be. We’ll be happy. We’ll be good. We’ll be loving. Ignore your doubts. Ignore your suspicions. Ignore the evil of reluctance creeping into your thoughts. This is meant to be. This is true. One step forward, a fall unseen. The End.




BLACK RED WHITE YELLOW BLUES A collection of poetry by Jay M. Johar


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