Memoirs of a Geisha

BEN_2818“She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water. It is not for Geisha to want. It is not for Geisha to feel. Geisha is an artist of the floating world. She dances, she sings. She entertains you, whatever you want. The rest is shadows, the rest is secret.” —Arthur Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha.



The Endless Bar.

Looking up at the sky, at all the stars./Remind me  how we meet each other/But somehow I remember the old scars/Sadly that is something I stop bother/For cupid has lost his very dear job/And I have forgotten the one I loved/Love is something that comes on every sob/The sad feeling of being pressed and caved/ when sweet spring turns into bitter winter/All you can do is to cry all day long/When you turn me into a poor old litter/All I do is sing the unfinished song.


Poem by Sonya Indira Abby Soekarno

Drawing by abbysoekarno, 2011.


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