Toraja Coffee

by Bryn Boy 2 years ago in surreal poetry

Indonesia 2016

Toraja Coffee

Voyager boy in humid repose

Thousands of Islands -

limitless and remote

Your own discovery

Endless serenity of a dabble gone wrong

But so right

So have no fear

Lower yourself

your reservation behind

and splash beneath the bow

Blow your top Java

still not cool enough to drink

Here, time is judged by greeting

Seasons two, condensed

then dry

Snake skin - lava - rainbow sky

You are one of many, walking with care, between a rice grain breadth of Asia and Java is real

Not filtered or fanciful

Doctored or deceiving

It runs at a pace you must quicken to

Decaying In the face of chaos, it’s people exhibit a calm that confounds you

Up then down

All over Sulawesi

You breathe the steam deep

A thick unyielding stickiness creeps

Cloud-show terraces form in cascades from

mountain to dry cracked skin of grandmas with no teeth

Down into the town

The road clog chokes on a pulsating cackle of dust and smoke

Disrobe to thread bare night

where on some indulgent evenings

it sounds like every man and boy, with engine between their legs

to the tune of eastern pop and throttle

is riding not to a place or even to an end

Heading west across the Makassar strait

Plunging deep into Kalimantan, Borneo

Where white skin cannot discern between sweat and humidity

In Tanjung river, like body water droplets, you flow out with the silt

& jungle smell

everything wet plantain

stacked and smoked

By river filled with barb and venom

It soaks through skin and skull

permeates the brain of palm and mahogany

in our memory to counter what we clear a

Blue connection- Monkey vision of red forest man with eye contact we descend through countless generations to a common ancestor

and then return again

With sad amber eyes

All through Bali

Between tat and tack an ancient magic binds Monster and man

exchanging masks of commonplace for what there are more gods than words for

Eventually fall asleep in disorderly, cruel evenings under spell

lizards hunt the remnant of what your mind can tell

In the oriental half light, slip in and out, up then down

Sick to stomach but it's alright



Give me more disorder of the senses

surreal poetry
Bryn  Boy
Bryn Boy
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