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Best Poems Written by Hidayat The Poet

Below are the all-time best Hidayat The Poet poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Hidayat The Poet Poem

Our Eden

From buckwheat bloom to goldcup flower, 
From my sill of shade, to your wealthy dower, 
The junctures, the times, we came upon together. 
Now these goldcups, finally had color. 
Transpiring your truths, I tally a noble four, 
And they, are like roses in the moor. 

For you, there'll be no more crying. 
For you, I can go on, thriving. 
Your pansies in the yard, choired to sing, 
And clover clads, don't serve the deceased.
But shuns us away, from the vile who surmised, 
And tying our knot with the glories of morning. 

The flag of my disposition, compels to insist. 
And my body's static, begging to persist. 
'Till you took the first step, willing to assist. 
Over day, overmorrow, 
Wherever you may go, I would eagerly follow. 
Since you made me one, when I was an aeolist. 

If the Almighty may endorse, I certainly would, 
I'd hold your hand, reminiscing what zinnias could, 
I'd squire you round the gay meads, laden with gold, 
As we turn to eye the darkness we left behind. 
Pondering, juxtaposed in our lore, 
On the patches of green, where we once tread before. 

I love all the roads we will walk together. 
I love all the sceneries we will witness together. 
All the questions we will shyly ask each other, 
And all the answers to them in every moment. 
So I pray, that He won't take you from me
'till death clads us together, 
Forever, in our Eden.

Details | Hidayat The Poet Poem

I Am a Boy Living In a Country

I’m a boy living in a country where
We get emotional over every government move
And every government move is chartered over our emotions
Emotions are chastised whether it or let be
One trying to correct the wrong,
But nay, one man ain’t a power as strong
One trying to convince for the good of his province?
But nay, his words can’t hold a candle to a moneyed ladle
They want their leaders to listen; to see
It’s how a country is made 
How a country can be great.

I’m a boy living in a country where
I stand by a bystander
I spectate a spectator
I find each and every day
A melancholy day
A dull day
A happy day
I am one of many
The latter to the first
Generation of thirds
Fourth in hierarchy my opinion
Merely words of a country minion.

I’m a boy living in a country where
Our nature is opposed to that of nature
Nature wants to show yet the king wants to hide
Ring the gong!
I took a peek as mother closed my eyes
“Dong!”, “Dong!”
The solar eclipse arrives!
The king’s flaws and shortcomings rise!
Any who see shall suffer demise!
The solar eclipse went by
Mother opened my eyes
What change was there? None!
Just the Moon playing the naughty child.

I’m a boy living in a country where
Western ideals are brazen and tainted!
Every book must be informative, historic and ‘patriotic’!
Any who wrote about our past true heroes were convicted
of tainting the beauty of our country
Dictated country that is; that beauty, that beauty!
Has long been gone
As the country’s been long dictated
The plague attacked; what did they do?
Steal! They stole our food and medicine
Held useless rituals
The effect wasn’t mutual
Thousands died; many more did
Historians deceived by falsehood indeed.

I’m a boy, living in a country where
We have no choice
Father had no choice
I had no choice but to swear fealty to our uncaring king
Father sold our cow for taxpayers’ money
I tore my house down for firewood
Pleasure those in the comfort of pavilions while 
Expecting a god to smile upon us
But no more!

I’m a boy living in a country where
I grew with wisdom
I turned every peasant into men of justice!
I lead the rebellion for the country’s service!
Lead my men to the gates of the palace
Pitchforks, hoes, daos and jians!
Oust each guard like loose ends
I let my men massacre the palace!
Until all that’s left is the sound of silence
At that moment we celebrate the end of a dictating dynasty
At that moment we celebrate the beginning of a new country.

I’m a boy living in a country where
I became the king.

Details | Hidayat The Poet Poem

Let Our Swords Clash

Let Our Swords Clash!

I found that life in my world is like fencing!
Tell me, World! 
What’s on the line?
Does the loser give in?
Ready or not? Let’s begin!

For all these years I finally realise,
It was me and the world
Joints now petrified
And my mind, bind to never go outside
He is leading and I am behind
« En’ garde! »
Welcome to your first match
Welcome to the latest patch, 1.0
« Pret, thrust, intercept and slash! »
Come closer, I won’t flee and dash
Have at thee, lad! Let our swords clash!

Blade and body in space scarcity
Resolve to win is considered piety
Blow by blow and bear witness this variety
In this boundary, this cage, gelanggang is our reality
There is always worry
But ain’t never such thing as sorry
Fight me and you may win to earn some cash?
You may earn title and sash?
Our fashion whites are rash
Come closer, let’s see who is the first to gash
Let’s see who is the first to fall to the ash
Have at thee, lad! Let our swords clash!

Me against the world, this is my battle!
This is my challenge of might and mettle
This is my biggest issue to tackle
I’m the Man of Steel! Hit me, thrust me, pierce me, outta the field should you throw me
No!
My mind derives of titanium metal
My drive derives of francium petal
My sword derives weight of helium handle
Fear me and rattle
Because like the Avengers I assemble!
Come closer, and finally lash
Have at thee, lad! Let our swords clash!

I attack, forward! Took hits like a champ
Vitality decreasing as my stance start to damp
Now I realise how huge
Enormous it is... Is it? This ramp
Now I know-
I... need... AMP!
So that my name may stamp
Stamp on the history of this world!
Come closer, let’s create the greatest battle
Have at thee, lad! Let our swords clash!

Up with my mortal jihad
Here I find myself ashore on islands full of tears
And fear
And here fireworks explode and disappear
As millions of colours swallow up everything.
My presence mocks of you, mocks of everything
To the world,
Now, I am thanking!
In the future, I am reimbursing
Have at thee, lad! By then, our swords had clashed.

Details | Hidayat The Poet Poem

At 7

Take a seat, perhaps stand-
and stare,
Look o’er and see
A cluster of clouds crowding the calm sky
Step outside
Embrace, and be content-
watching the sky at 7

~Hidayat
08.04.2021

ig: hidayat_the_poet

Details | Hidayat The Poet Poem

My Thoughts, the Sky

I've always thought of reaching the sky, 
To live amongst the clouds. 
But no matter how high I rise, 
Gravity pulls me by the neck
I fall back to earth and soil,
Realising that I belong here, 
On the ground. 
Just dreams remain of flight
When I look to the sky's might
Hopelessly, but not out of sight. 
But I guess I'm not meant for the sky
Until I finally wilt away, 
Breaking loose these chains of gravity.

Details | Hidayat The Poet Poem

Carnations

There are carnations
I shower them all with life 
so straight and so clear.

Details | Hidayat The Poet Poem

The Soldier

For the welfare of people
This purpose to fulfill
We stand opposing threats-
For our fatherland’s will. 
For law and order, all purely made by madmen, 
Completely false
From the beginning to all ends. 
Nonexistent to us forsaken by chance
To leave without trace
It's an unforgiving sense. 
But-
I'll be 
The soldier.

Raid the dunes of sinned warmth
There, a glass tracks my life remaining. 
Time is powerful, 
With it, I leave home in crestfallen loathing.
In this pandemonic land of length
everyone’s pretending
 to have their own strength
As the sky sees us off-
 without a wee woven wreath. 
We see sands cladding our red spilling
For us to heal in death.
Shaheed-
I am
The Soldier. 

Rise in the horizon, 
Rise as the dust would and-
Return to our scarred, homely land
Pursuing warmth
In this now banished land
Finally, now at peace 
by my very hand
Khatam-
I, was
The Soldier.

Details | Hidayat The Poet Poem

Books

This is a poem about books
Not just books,
But what happens between us and books
Our relationship with books

To some-
They’re only stacks and stacks of a series of words
To some-
They are their teachers when no teachers are around
To some-
They are like the family they never had
To some-
They are the keys to adventures waiting to be found.

Books, books and books!
I see storybooks, 
textbooks,
revision books,
comic books,
Novels and anthologies
Vicissitude in ideologies!
Reading is an action of exploring-
The mysterious conflict of a detective in an action novel
Reading could also be
Testing your know-how on hard, heinous, words that make you grovel! 

In books-
Of profound love and allegory I found a letter by the beach
Read about the grief and sorrow of a widowed man
I trailed a rabbit down a hole and got lost in a dream
Fought and slew a dragon, I’m the hero of Wonderland!

Sure, of course!
You might get tired of it
After all, it’s human nature
To take action, put an end to it.

28/03/2020

Details | Hidayat The Poet Poem

Spite, My Shadow

I never once had spite,
To feel like I want to pick a fight but-
I believe that it is never, ever right!
It is like a docile dog, but you wouldn’t expect it to bite… right?
Always keep your hands in sight and-
Don’t fight!
Don’t throw a punch lest your reputation falls to blight
Dip your finger down the wrong liquid might-
You singe your skin so soft to corrode and calloused, am I right?
Sit, stay and keep it inside,
Welcome it and never hide-
For on its own will it go outside,
So pray, pray with all your might may-
The lost shadow dance its way into the light
Be free-
and take flight.

Details | Hidayat The Poet Poem

A Poet's Inspiration

“Leave thou of this reminiscent despair,
		One of which thy happiness seems drear.
	  Leave thou too of this unpayable fare,
		For it shall take you of everything dear.”

   I look to the sky once more, under the cool breeze of the wind which hymns a string of thoughts endlessly through my ears. An endless cycle if I may say, I sit under the leafless mulberry tree with pen and paper in my hand.  Away from the hustle and bustle of the city, the sound of screaming and neverending tantrum, I let it be my sweet silence. Here is where I find peace, where my mind prospers. With my pen and paper, no such obstacle can lead me to such trepidation.

   It’s Tuesday evening and I’d finished all of my ‘work’. 
Tired, I repose.
And here, I lay myself with all these 
thoughts.
Ephemeral, but I’m satisfied. Happy!