poems

FIRST KISS

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to have nothing to hide isn’t how to love you
to abandon my dreams, to trust your words in my body
only stole the magic from the parisian rain
that once delivered my hopes completely to your fears

to carry the fears of the world is how you loved me
to take away all my kisses then let me stand solitarily
by an opened winter’s window of a dark tower
ready to jump away from myself for a single return kiss

a kiss that has nothing to hide
like one you let me sample on my neck on our first walk
before you tried to explain how to love safely
before i questioned how love could be inadequate
before you tasted in your own tongue finally
the fears of the world which into my body you inserted

d.o.
sherborne-paris-london, feb-march 2026

SUPPER TIME IN PARIS

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what has happened to my heart
something’s falling, something’s closing
words have been robbed from the rain
the rain washes nothing from my brain

your shadows enter my blood
like rusty nails; all defence fails
suffering is love untrained
a child attempting to rationalise in vain

i can no longer run
from a place that has no time
your stanzas bear no resemblance
to the world you destroyed in spite of me

a mother who is alone, an ostracised conviction
solitude that through friendships didn’t get broken
where do i drag my blistered longing
for a dining table or a secret to a whole being

through the cruelty of the night
i betray myself, paris and other ilnesses
still my heart’s allegiance remains
with those who have nothing to hide

paris, february 2026

WHAT HAPPENS TONIGHT

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i cannot write about tonight
my words can’t describe the rain
like other poets have done in their rights
it simply soaks my ground in his absence

i cannot write about tonight
my mind can’t remember his face
the way my body craves his scent
and honesty in some of his kisses

where does love go when it can’t stay
to the past where all my pain rests
to the future where no dream awaits
does it simply break apart in our own ways

men and women pass me by
oblivious to their own umbrella
i apologise each time they hit my eye
for my existence seems to be an error

i cannot write about tonight
while his shadow is on the run
i cannot right the wrong it’s done
to the light, to my solitary heart

d.o.
london, january 2026

SOBBING MERRIMENT

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–jh

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where does tonight carry the seine
when the rain’s left, and sorrow’s no longer right
two pairs of shoes, one of them wet from the ground
taking their time finding the bridge

one by one lovers turned into loners
returned to where they belong –
in the prayers of hungry artists
far from the ghosts of my gentleness
stuttered in declaring their objections

where does the seine carry tonight
before the tower’s lights turned out
and all faith quietly drowned
like dust penetrating the surface
not lost, yet may no longer be found

there is no line i could denounce
about the god that’s closer than my neck vein
when my silence steamed up your glasses
— taking them off i hide from the sobbing merriment

london-sherborne, october 2024

YOU DO NOT SEE ME

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you do not see me
a little girl from un unknown town
thrown away from sea to sea
and wet your bed with her dreams
 
you do not see me
a beautiful curse
spat out of my mother’s tongue
and the fire in my father’s hands
 
you do not see me
a mistaken lover
wandering through a harsh winter in her head
leaving you forever guilty
 
you do not see me
a shivering mother
crushing the train’s wheels
crumpling her heart in a plastic bag
 
you do not see me
a hungry pigeon
strutting away from its crowd
into the dust, into the dust
 
you do not see me
until you see the last light over saint-séverin
and gulp the parisian rain
with joy, with joy
 
 
paris, 15 september 2016

THE LOST FERRY OF CHILDHOOD

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from gentle and merciless light
darkness will take you back
you’ve forgotten how comforting
home can be when everybody’s left

love can be so threatening, you know
that’s why we keep it in our heart
and not hold it in our hands

must you go on that ship
just to prove you couldn’t swim?
a bag of tomorrow’s lunch
and lifetime supplies of sadness

the horn was blowing
there was never another shore
you close your eyes
though there’s no shame in losing

dorset, october 2015

THE OLD SMOKE

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i have no memories
to start a conversation
there were only thrills that grew
while the chances had begun to paralyse

they say silence means yes
but you’re not asking any questions
except about the wind, except about others
i don’t have the answers

i still often hang about the kitchen
pretending to cook yet sobbing
only because we were not talking
as if we were a couple of burdens, as we are now

they say if you love you remember everything
every kiss which if discussed
would wound the meaning of ‘ex-lover’
while being kept would turn into bruises

the night has stopped by, “another cigarette,” you said
a fire squeezed my hand, twice
i thought time was up, although time
has nothing to do with my heart

yogyakarta-dorset, 2014

ROADKILL

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a golden light through the farmer’s window
a song from the war as i pass under the abandoned railway bridge
a field of rape rising up from behind the young hedges
none of it touches me

i am breathing scars in my brain
my heart is useless
it is so worn out i can’t walk in it!

papa would you love me if i befriended your god;
and mama would you ask how i am if you were not dying?

there is no road kill from somerset to dorset tonight
but they’re all dead in tanjungkarang

the wind is waiting, i suppose
nothing am i fearing

dorset, 2013

THE FINAL WIND

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nobody knows how much i loved him
since the night i opened every door to my dreams

there was a space bigger than the sky in my heart
for him, forever became him, forever was him

i ran to catch him, i smelt his skin
knowing not when to stop or how

i took off all my clothes, i was naked before him
knowing not when he’d understand or give up

i made love to him, from skin to blood
i let him kiss my scars, he made me leave god

i was overjoyed with all the flowers and the strife
i used to smile and laugh until i cried

then i sat there in the garden, in the rain, raining
the wind changed for me, so i changed for it

he was blown away from my nerves
he was gone before we said good bye

the sand in the beach i want to forget
the letters at the door i have swept

nobody knows how much i loved him
nobody knows how i stopped – i can’t explain

yogyakarta, 2011

WINE FOR OLFATO

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people used to say olfato and i were good friends
even though we just loved each other
i was the heart, and olfato was the instinct

i loved the anguish that fell from the rain
and dropped from the wine

because they were clear and fresh like a crystal of age
–-you could live in the past forever;
because olfato hated the tears inside me
and
i could throw them away every time the rain came

but i could not understand
why olfato preferred a happy woman
who was always dry and well
who could see what was right or wrong in love

on the day we said goodbye
i kept the rest of our wine for our old age
because, as people used to say, olfato and i were good friends
even though we just loved each other

but olfato came early
he came with the woman: his reason
and i had only two glasses
so i served them only with my words
until they left:
that woman could not steal what was mine anymore!

luckily, it was raining then
i gulped the wine all by myself

yogyakarta, 2006