Category: Ly’s scrapped notes

Nov 19

Autumn Poetry Reading Class –Unfinished Project

Fawwaz calls this month, “bulan bahasa” as his school is conducting language and literary competitions today, while in our house, there are at least 3 homeworks of poetry reading and literary works on his list.

He did a good kick-off  last week:

jalanjalan naik taksi

mandimandi di sungai

makanmakan di kentucky

–you master bahasa ibu, son!  let’s check your early version in bahasa three years ago:

Di kebun binatang

aku melihat beruang

beruang melihat aku

aku tidak takut

beruang mungkin takut

*Ueno Zoo, Tokyo 2005

hmmmm… you played with the limited  vocabularies :)

This weekend you threw another piece:


Dear autumn,

brush your teeth and shower

welcoming your sister:



I love snow,

go, slow, blow, glow, go

So, my dear son..good luck with your “lomba bulan bahasa” today. Enjoy the competition. No matter the result would be, you are the winner in my heart.




Aug 16

The husband, the son and the poems in my ordinary life

If there is a list of people craving for poems in the morning, add me, please!
I do love reading poems during my breakfast, recently. I do visit while finishing my morning routines before hit the road. I have been searching the best online collections. ( Read more )


Aug 01

For Fawwaz, A Letter From Hiroshima

Dear Fawwaz,

How is the camping? Have you successfully climbed Mount Fuji, today? Have you managed to cook your own meals? Have you managed to fold your sleeping bag neatly? Have you put the mosquito repellent onto your skin before deciding to stay outdoor all night long?

Look up! The night sky above you is me and the countless stars are my countless questions. The anxious summer is me, the never ending songs of cicadas on trees and grass are, again, my questions: all about you staying out for 5 days, far away from me. ( Read more )


Jul 16

Remembering One Fine Friday

the picture taken from free royalty photos www.sxc.huIt was Friday. The morning was dry, pale blue was the sky . The mother was admitted to a hospital. An expecting mother, with a perfect dome-shaped belly, with a busy husband in the office, with what so called “orang-orang rumah” –the extended families and two house maids– who were ready to lend their hands for her.

The second child were about to be born. Girl or boy? The question was not so important. At home, an eleven months baby was crying. He was too young to know that the mother had left him to deliver another baby. The second baby was unexpected, I guess. With 11 months interval from the first baby, I suspected that the second one was merely an unplanned birth (or shall I call it a sweet surprise for the young couple?). ( Read more )