puisi 15

Tonight we eat lamb soup and satay
Happiness from Mr Arifin who get side-income as a substitute lecturer
Who knows that Mr Arifin’s present is surprising
For satay is now a fine dining for us
Wow, the smell of burnt satay!

Whereas, Jibril says, we are experiencing an abstruse polemic
Then the smell of satay that inviting appetite is cornered
When I think what Jibril says unto me

What is an abstruse polemic?
A polemic that is elusive
For he says, the truth is not like the truth
Falsehood is like the truth
The truth is referred to as heresy
The truth polemic that is miss-direction and miss-targeted

It is thought as the truth, but it is not
That is thought as a falsehood, but it is the truth

I see the clock, it is always punctual
The clock is the truth of time
If the clock is me
Then there is no need to ask what is my truthfulness

Lamb’s satays are not yet done
When I have already known what is abstruse polemic
It is indeed I myself
Amidst being justified, hatred, ignored
Studied, blamed, calumniated, targeted
and questioned

Abstruse polemic makes me understand
Why have I been ignored and neglected
Hurray, the satay has done