Wali Songo 2015

Karya Lukis Hardi

This is a painting depicting the "wali Songo", an effort to make a parody with a painting done by a painter Hardi. The work titled Wali Songo Hardi is on display at Gallery 2015 Copyright II, Taman Ismail Marzuki, Central Jakarta.

Mushardi

Painting: Hardi's work

This is not a picture of samurai from Japan called Mushahi. This is a photo of the paintings made by painters Hardi and exhibited in solo exhibitions Hardi works at Taman Ismail Marzuki, Central Jakarta, in 2011 ago.

Treaty NO. 09th

I looked closely at your face veil decorated with purple, lightning-fast kuteringat republic wistful face. You really sweet, as well as gemah ripah republic jinawi loh. But your presence like the wind, can not be caught with five fingers. So now I lead penghayatanku always with feeling sore, and stretched the distance between us, further away from Sabang to Merauke
Never kupertanyakan, why are we late to meet, as well as the ever regret why I was not born in the era of Bung Karno. What I want to hear the speech the proclaimer of burning, as I wanted only me who can close your fence, lock the doors and windows of your room, lit lanterns to assert night have been published, also permeates the whole of your course straight and sincerely, to birth a plain piece of poetry and sacred
Piece of poetry has always reminded me of a silent singing, dancing and lonely. Then kuresapi silent creeping in nerves. Concentrated sovereign as the poem engraved on the sky. Piece of poetry has always led me to question the nature of goodness back. What is the good? True goodness never yawn, not shrinkage, may not fade?
To be honest we never bring mutual distances and differences. Sorry I did not bring it when your staring at the horizon. Not on the horizon will always be a star falling before dawn, and we were given the opportunity to mix dreams. Raciklah your dreams disappear before the end of the light
Beloved, I wish we could're always together. Have not I always been infatuated with your lips that curl, which describes the wound lips nation of Papua, and you know exactly how your eyes always put me to sleep. The look is not your fathers lament the gloomy Bandung, also your voice is not singing a tornado. I was possessed by the dance-you are more powerful than an earthquake or a volcanic eruption, an avid greeting realm Archipelago

Treaty NO. 10th

 You're right, God and poetry can bring us back, though not absolute, but it may be the last meeting sekekal-eternal. Then clear the mirror and inter-city bus terminal, also selarik prayer never complained, someday lead us to the aisle made of clouds in the sky. When it float, the world belongs only to us. Neighbors are goats conge, and friends naughty enough so mosquitoes. Let berpagutan before burying the entire season sky ever birth, also without having to wait for lawmakers said they would truly repentant
I have to go, but hopefully true God and poetry will bring us back. I had to take care of my house that breed in the ridge times and rail. I had to clean the streets from protesters paid. I shall ensure that no member of the House of Representatives actually set up a company demonstration
There's got to pengengupinganku, a celebrity vent in cyberspace, and condemnation of the thief, and immediately conjure up television content so gripping, but the other day, television in tears to mourn the earthquake that hit streak. This is how? Just close your eyes, and feel with all your soul: the question reverberating in your heart, is not it?
That's origins date we should quits. I believe, along the southern shore shouted waves, homesickness among us will seharu-blue soap opera. Allow kusunting the glittering rainbow arched eye brows you, for gifts for my mother, who will celebrate Mother's Day, as well as to kulaburkan-lipped nature more intelligent comment on the officials who curse
Arch your eyebrows, shading the sun and the moon that controls feelings or feeling pair shrinkage. Down a bit: Lip-mu is a sculpture of Michael Angelo. To the bottom again, I do not have enough words to describe the beauty that you MELIKI there
I have to go, then I ask do you sell your private parts at a price that was too low, as the clergy begged God not to exchange verses with balance. Remember that Moses also said, do not you turn away and ally in worshiping false gods
Do not turn away when I went looking for a poem. Poem that will bring us back. This time I'm pretty sure, the poem will be so worth it though will not be able to burn the capitol occupied rats and wolves, also not be able to bring down a president who only sell their own complaint

MANGGARAI

 This is the portrait of your face, railroads were breech and sluices are oversized. Floods and flash floods passengers, came surging, so the mascara on your eyelids. Salon passion plus-plus applying your red lips. You're actually beautiful and interesting, but your body always falls into the lap of thieves.
In the terminal you rotate, the station you're crushed. Cheer your old self, erased by nan chaotic traffic jams, and a lonely furrows in the forehead and cheeks were sunken increasingly

The days of your brawl marred the Grass Market against Rawajelawe Menteng residents. In Manggarai, students shook hands with stone and wood, hone racing accomplishments with a dagger. The book describes their report cards, will continue berlahiran generation who like criss-cross, elbow-elbow, razor-shave, and are reluctant to share

You proceeded to stalk moderniasi, but temper your left purists. One night, the town created an uproar, when a wagon rolled without a driver. They say, the devil has sent to menyatroni ghost town

Indeed, the city has dididuki ghosts that haunt at the State Palace, and in Senayan. The ghosts had been in the shower. Also not ghosts had penetrated into the whole soul?

Look, you're not unlike the distributed demagogic speeches from the podium Palace. You sound like a rambling sentences that came from Senayan. You're like a ripe fruit that bloom in the plains of Queen Farah. Millions of viewers could only shake his head. You're too far away to embraced. The distance between us, unbridgeable

Jatinegara

Since bored pooled in Cipinang downstream tried further east, then retreating at Coffee Cottage. But at the cottage coffee, there is no true silence. Chills and confusion continues menderas, dipancarsiarkan Pandora's box of butt avid officials lied. So I went back to the old nature, so enduring a restless refugees visited every stopover. Armed toa and hammer, I boarded the train that harbored a history of injuries. Many times I crossed Jatinegara. For calls.Jatinegara, the old station which was also carrying his destiny, since the first power is plugged in, and VOC corrupt a quick pass on the way, also circumcise budget with brilliant technique. So now you are together cockroach gasping levy rice crumbs, only able to become a butterfly night jet. You will not get a ration of feed that has been guaranteed by law. Sovereignty sanctioned missing your wrath and flash floodsI boasted offer poetry and sovereignty promised the essentials. I said about the rights of the people are robbed and the restive Papuans. I told her about the New Order conspiracy and entrepreneurs Freeport, the assassination of John F. Kennedy and the ouster of Bung Karno. I said, O you who are torn and frayed, which betrayed the collectors sound, yell to your knees that pengupingan no longer enough to be entertained with tales of the leaders of the mushy, but arbitraryI kept screaming, but unrequited-reply. I asked, not parried. I called, even ridiculed. Soon I realized,once again retreat at Coffee Cottage, was in line with a lecture orasiku only the cleric vying role in the television comedy, as fond of money, in which only the mothers in uniform are being mustami. One business market share remembrance was troubled womenIn Jatinegara, I met Ronggowarsito. As with junior devout, I beg wisdom. "Dear Poet, read your poems!""Long before Moses took the oath in Tursina, religious and young women, has always been a lucrative commodity. Since the Company to build Jatinegara, officials and criminals, a friend who often change places. And since Julius served the emperor, the state no longer needs the poems, the poets should be hanged! "

Cicalengka

An old station Dutch heritage, nature never changes, nor increased facilities. Commerce only rely on tofu and tomato crops, even though the president has repeatedly fallen. Until you finally realize also, people often buy a cat in a sack: a president who turns the most mushy in the history of the republic, just because he looks like a Kelud mountain graceful, as well as selective and diligent expert to divide the cake 
Dude, you have to speak out. You have to say a word. Because silence is a sin. Silent sign to agree. My ears are open to all injuries. Why the spill is always complaining. Why does the president always scared to death

Nobody spoke eloquently. Just loud protests echoed in the empty room. Also in one day at 10 am, when the people of the country recalcitrant fire, belching black smoke from the mouth and ears, berbanjar besieged the station, and put your wrist on the tracks. A lok containing rotting corpses, crushing hand vain, that came out was euphoric: "Yippee, we've maimed arm. We can now officially be beggars. So reinforcements for the liars! " 
Shouted the people of the land of fire recalcitrant, hobbled sleeveless, called and invited as well as zombies Lapindo mudflow victims, simultaneously pushed towards the capital. Increased in the followers of the various corners. Each village shard crossed, sent representatives to the eyeball that has been taken out next, half cut ears, trunk legs slashed up the calf, to incarnate the most destitute and surrounded the palace with the roar of melancholy: Sir, we do not eat, do not give us the bullet! 
Ear power, more often alpha. Even until the end, at a ripe afternoon by despair, a young man jumped from the carriage in the direction of the muzzle palace, and wrote poetry in his body with flames. Pause a moment of silence while. Billions of butterflies dancing in a puddle of emotion, representing the heavens mourn. Children goats bleating in the barren desert, he shouted absorbed eternal silence, and chirping birds give testimony about the rulers who always ask for mercy, always thirsty victims

Dude, the palace did not budge either, though the lives wallowing collapsed in front of his nose? They have been blind, deaf, mute again, and will not return to the way it was

I never dreamed

Carla

I never dreamed of living in a tropical country that gave off fresh air in the morning. Desire, I do not know, whether to become a reality or not, but I continue to fight. Life is a struggle, including berjuangan coping with anxiety and insecure, struggling with trials and tests, and struggling to make ends meet so as not to die of hunger.

I deal with anxiety like this for the third time. But the time is certainly very severe due to aging, helplessness factors, and does not have a job that generates sufficient cash, while the more severe challenges and real life. I was haunted by a sense of anxiety. Just pray that I can do. Berbobat already kuupayakan course, drugs are cheap, because I do not have the money.

Melancholy

My melancholy stain the sky
When the pace billowing fog
A million stars falling and falling
The light was great, immediately stored in the folds of mist

Daughter of Mt.

See her neat glow, if you will agree that she is a princess who fell from heaven into the river?

Depending on which view. I think she is not a princess, but a sheep that has been tarnished. He should be loved and protected in various ways, especially if we really want the goodness of the earth.

But can not be denied, he has a charming smile and charming lips. Her skin was wrapped in a clean light blue shirt, making it look so graceful. She was daughter of Mt.

Linda Ma In The Citarik River

She is not an Indonesia girl. The albino is the grandson of the nation Bataveen. He put on my blog because her face was beautiful, and is supported with a good body. Temperament is also good, and he deserves when you get a prince gentle and kind person.

Girls like this will seem like a sheep that is so hard to maintain. He will be a fine of wolves are ruthless and do not know mercy. Therefore, we care and we must maintain in order to remain a sacred lamb.