Whom Did They Marry?

Revised Edition

And I imagined the children, grandchildren of Adam and Eve living up to more than nine hundred years. Whom did they marry? And it is said that the women were so beautiful, no man ever, not even the sons of God, could resist.

And I picture him, i.e. man, loving her, even as her brother, as her father, her grandfather, or loving her even as his sister, as his mother, his grandmother, ... Can you picture it, grasp it? Marry his irresistibly still beautiful grandma? Ha-ha.

Marriage was a private affair. It was none of your business, you know?

It then occurred to me that they certainly were irresistible, as beautiful as artists painted, sculptured them, for they wear no clothes, walked barefoot, adorned with long beautiful hair as there weren't a hairdresser.

“Did that ever occur to you?” said Opa Johan to his wife.

October 2012 

This is my book. You can read it.

• http://blookup.com/en/blookshop/blook/leisurely-reading-14566/

 

March 2013

I Surely Am Superb

I Surely Am Superb

I surely  am superb. Why do you, Pak Chew, think I’m conceited, arrogant?

Name, choose the lowest being that’s not. Is there any man, any woman, any creature, plant not extraordinary, superb created? A blind man could see even more with his fingers, ears, senses, brains, imagination, than us with our eyes.

I’m very proud of it. Except were I a scoundrel, so conceited, to humble myself, yet, to show off, publish my achievements, my university’s degrees with flying colors for  you, anyone to see, to read, to admire, ...

 

So said Pak Arif to me.

 

March 2013

 

A Man Would Be Most Honored

A Man Would Be Most Honored

"A man would be most honored were a woman, you, raped me, while I feign to fight myself free and you showered, forced many kisses on me till you’re worn out. Ha. Ha. What a surprise, what a delight. Unless you are too prudish or have a too petty love. Did that ever occur to you, you stupid, little fool? " So said Opa Johan to his wife.

And I imagined a lovely jamu vendor, in former times, walking bare foot, jumping  nimbly into an empty, open, riding cow cart, without asking permission to the driver.

As a beautiful flower, princess, she stands as there were no seats, as a lovely fairy she offers him a drink, while riding slowly along a lonely road together to her “desa”, village. What a surprise, what a delight, what a precious treasure he got in his cart.

March 2013

Makes Me Wiser

Makes Me Wiser

Every time when I am disappointed, sad, when my  post isn’t liked, I reread it again, yet, I still love it, I can’t not love it, delete it, I would kiss it as a loving mother her child, which comforts and makes me happy again.

So I got a philosophy which makes me wiser.

A famous painter’s death is wished for as his paintings’ price rise and becomes an object of business, of investment, owned, seen only by a few very rich men, except it is in a museum. Mine could be read by the whole world, as you could have its original, not a fake, for free in my home page and dealers don’t wish me dead, posthumous. Ha. Ha.

March 2013

Loaned In Kisses

Loaned In Kisses

A loan often hides a heavy burden. You’ll remember every morning you wake up. So said someone. How wise.

And I thought of a loan with a credit card, a bank loan, IMF loan. It should be reminded of its due-date.

But were a loan enjoyable, - loaned in kisses, or a fine in kisses - as is a beautiful command or a beautiful lie, you would wake up every morning happily thinking of it. I almost can’t wait and want to be paid earlier or cash. So said Opa Johan.

Obliging someone ”hutang budi” a debt, we say, for a goodness, kindness is also a covered loan, except you can’t repay it as the presents Sint Nicholas brought you because he is someone anonymous. That’s beautiful, wise also.

But there’s more to a kiss.

Receiving, hearing, seeing, reading, something really good, beautiful, stirring, unforgettable, is as receiving a kiss in your soul which only can be repaid, yet, though, not a loan, with a kiss in gratitude. You never can repay it with loads of money.

March 2013

 

A Thought On Sharing My Writings

A Thought On Sharing My Writings

It’s a pity that I have to wait that long to become wiser, to never share my thoughts, writings frequently with close friends and relations, as it might hurt them, oblige them to say “thank you”, “it’s beautiful”, besides the torture to expect every time a new writing from me while they don’t like, hate it. A lover would happily wait for it.

Not so my followers and likers. You are so free to un-follow or to like or not like whenever you like. I have nothing to oblige you. I have nothing to hide to make you like or love me. And it’s to  my/your honour, credit, great, were I/you to have the courage to like or love someone’s thoughts, suppose, even though, despite of, he has no follower or any liker. That’s something as winning a prize in a reader’s heart, you know?

 

March 2013

As A Bird's Calling

As A Bird’s Calling

I more love a woman’s voice singing to a man’s, sometimes so stirring me, like hearing a bird’s calling, longing for her mate as I think of Elly Ameling singing  “Mein Schonster Stern”. I would, could kiss her in gratitude.

So thought the choir Conductor.

 

February 2013