wahai selembar kertas putih yang baru lahir kemarin pagi,
belum ada secuil debu yang sempat mengecupmu,
engkau masih seputih kapas dan selembut sutra.

malam ini pinjamkan aku daun-daun telingamu,
untuk mendengar segala jenis kicau racau siulanku.

korbankanlah seluruh sudut-sudut tubuhmu,
untuk ku rajah dengan tinta hitam
yang gelapnya bertindih-tindih,
hingga engkau berteriak-teriak karena kegagahanku.

jadikan semua keringatku mengendap.
biarkan juga seluruh air mataku tumpah ruah.
kumpulkan semuanya pada sebuah bak,
agar aku bisa mandi dan bernyanyi di dalamnya.

maafkan aku dan bayanganku,
yang senantiasa memaksamu
menjadi saksi bisu yang setia.

maafkan pula sang waktu,
yang terus menerus tanpa henti
menggerogoti kenangan aku dan kamu.


kala ini

kali ini matahari bersembunyi,
dan purnama mengintip ilusi.
kecoak-kecoak di kamar mandi
mabuk, disiram air seni.

para manusia di kala ini,
tak pernah merasa sendiri.
sibuk berkelana kesana-kemari
sembari ditemani sang sepi.
selalu terus mencari, segala arti,
serta berbagai pemuas birahi.

pikiran mereka tak pernah sunyi,
setiap waktu diiringi. refleksi.
mata mereka terbelalak hingga dini,
takut kalau terlelap akan dihantui
oleh bermacam-macam mimpi.

aku pun juga manusia di kala ini.
aku pun cuma punya satu hati.
aku pun masih enggan untuk mati.

ya ilahi, yang kekal mengasihi,
seluruh isi penjuru langit dan bumi.
jangan jadikan lagi aku api.

di ramadhan ini, sembuhkanlah aku lagi,
kembalikan aku pada yang suci,
seperti embun di pagi hari.


bagaimana bisa

bagaimana bisa, aku
menjadi kekasihmu?

jikalau aku
belum murni menatapmu.

bagaimana bisa, aku
menjadi kekasihmu?

jikalau aku
belum penuh berpadu padamu.

bagaimana bisa, aku
menjadi kekasihmu?

jikalau aku
belum setia mengingatmu.

bagaimana bisa, aku
menjadi kekasihmu?

tanpa rencanamu.
tanpa persetujuanmu.

bagaimana bisa, aku
menjadi kekasihmu?

segala yang ada dalam diriku,
hanya demi wajahmu.



secantik-cantiknya parasmu,
selugu-lugunya sinar matamu,
tidak akan pernah bisa,
mengalahkan indahnya


Poetry In Motion with Lawrence Lacambra Ypil by The Jakarta Post Writing Center

I am kinda addicted to poems for these past few years. I've already forgot when was the last time I wrote short stories. Last weekend I had a chance to participate in a two-days event called as Writer Series' 2017 by The Jakarta Post Writing Center (TJP Writing Center). The first day consist of many talk shows and book projects by respective authors, you could check out all the schedule list here, while the second day exhibit many useful workshops, like one of the classes which titled: Poetry In Motion by Lawrence Lacambra Ypil (in short, Larry).

During the first day, I really like these two talk shows:
1. Writing: A Scholarly or Writerly Pursuit?
The speakers are Melani Budianta and Robin Hemley. This discussion mainly pursuit to answer whether one must write in academically or write in creatively. While Melani is an academic, a famous one, she still writes creatively in her spare time. She is inspired by her late sister, when she was a child, her sister gave her a diary. Back at that time, a 6 years old Indonesian still can't read, they're at the same level with kindergarten kids, and the diary is written in English by her sister. As time goes by, she wrote more academically in pursuit of her curiosity. Meanwhile, Robin grown up in a creative environment, his mother is a translator, and also a short story writer, while his father is a poet. Now, Robin delve in academic. He successfully builds NUS Yale writers' centre, making writing a cool activity again for the students. The discussion concludes that one must keep writing in both side, academically and creatively. Mostly because writing academically will challenge oneself to keep learning. On the other side, writing creatively will build empathy and change your perception, so you can write better for your audience. For example, writing an academic journal that is not boring and more in touch with the readers, or writing historical fiction novel with a great background settings so it can feel more realist.

2. For What is the Use of Poetry?
The speakers are Debra Yatim, Aan Mansyur, and Larry. This one talks about how the creative process behind their poems, and the use of poetry in their lives. Debra, she instinctively thought in English and write with it most of the time, every time there's an event that called her feelings, she will write it instantly using English. That's why her poem is empowering for women, and talk about many roles of women in different cultures. Aan, his creative process is mostly translating his poem from his mind, which thinks in Bugis language and convert it directly into his poem in Bahasa. Bugis language is very complicated, not as simple as Bahasa, he worried that some of his poem isn't exactly as he want in terms of the meaning. And Larry, he looks for music in the city landscapes, expressing it in words, for example Cebu is like a free verse poem, Singapore (due to its orderly fashion) would be a sonnet. In the end, they agree that poetry is used to express themselves and convey a message to its readers, not in direct blatant boring way, but in more beautiful manner, using every tools they have, such as metaphors and rhymes.

On the second day, this is where the fun begins. Larry started our workshop sessions, telling us about his experience going to Sarinah, this is the first time he visits Jakarta. That place reminds him of his childhood in Cebu. He read us his first draft poem about it, too bad my memory isn't good. All I remember is some of the lines, like how the little escalator works, a sweet and kind female sales person, and shampoo bottles on the shelves gathering dust without expiration dates.

After that he began distributing blank papers, telling us to write, and answers these questions:
"Who are you?"
"Why are you here?"
"Why poetry?"

He gave us 5 minutes. Writing in timed manner is not my style, it's hard. To write until this sentence, I need 5 cigarettes breaks, 3 bathroom times, going downstairs, scavenge my refrigerator and eat a melon, going back upstairs, opened Facebook and sharing lots of memes, finally back again writing this.

The allotted time passed by, and here's my writings:
My name is Denis Setiawan. You can call me Denis. I am a manager in a company. I like to write as a hobby, back in the old days, I wrote short stories. As time goes by, now I've fallen in love more with poetry, because it's more emotional, compact, and full of depth, from the long epic ones like Beowulf or short ones like Basho's. I am here because I want to learn more about poetry. Poetry is one of the way to know myself. Poetry is like a prayer to me. Nowadays, I almost can't write poetry in English anymore, I'm more comfortable using Bahasa. Hopefully this workshops refreshes it, like a seed hiding deep inside the soil after waiting all year long for the rain.

Rewriting this again on my blog feels cheesy. There are 9 participants in this, a small but effective numbers. We share all of our writings throughout the sessions, learning together, giving feedback one another. They're all talented.

Larry listened to each one of us, and (probably) examining our motives in poetry. Then he began to explain what he thinks about poetry. As an experienced teacher, all his example and analogies are easy to understand. He said, "A novel, or short story, or any other form of narrative is like a movie. It's constantly moving, from each part to next. While a poem, is like a picture. It stands still. Lingering. To stop and enjoy the moment."

There was a coffee cup on his table and a small plate. He began to play with it. He moved the cup into different positions, spilling the small left over coffee into the small plate and let it smudge to the rim. Finally he made the cup standing in a strange sideways, then he said, "A poet must look differently. A poet must search for many interesting angles from ordinary things."

He knew that 3 hours will never be enough to explain everything, so he began sharing Japanese haikus written by Basho and Issa. He told us that haiku is another form of poet that had been evolved from older ones (you can read about it here, from renga to haiku). He made us, in turn, read three times for each one of it, to gain more feelings about it. Then he began to give us another blank papers, he wanted us to write as many haikus as possible, and it doesn't even need to follow the syllable rules in each line. He shared one of his writing mantra from his teacher to help us: "Write in white heat. Edit in cold blood". Every 2 minutes, he gave another theme for us to write, forcing us to stop thinking and going for the spontaneity, no need to edit.

Here are some of my attempts on it:

(theme: growing up)

yesterday, no moustache
today, full of beard
every morning shaving

(theme: childhood memories)

a fish pond at the back garden
long scorching summer came
now, it's empty

(theme: parents and family)

there is a mama
there is a papa
is it a family?

Again, as part of our routines, we personally pick our best 3 and share it to others for feedback. Read it aloud twice for each one of it. Then he talked even further about haiku, he said, "Haiku mostly consist of 3 lines, the 1st line is the set up, the 2nd is the transformation, the 3rd is where the magic happens, the line of conclusion that triggers the emotion." We all listened to him. "To create a deep poem, first you must find something concrete and transform it into another form, like from a physical thing such as mosquito to emotional situations like deaf (example from one of Issa's haiku). The other thing, a beautiful poem must have tensions, in narrative we called this as conflicts. So the poem should be able to describe something like an opposite that directs into the same meaning, whether it's physical, emotional, or conceptual."

After the coffee break, we entered the next sessions. This time, Larry told us that he's been experimenting with old pictures, images, and linked it to words, for his new poetry books. He shared lot's of old pictures from Cebu at the early 19th century. It was fascinating. He wanted us to write two lines for each picture. For every pictures, he gave us 30 seconds. So we wrote it all without a single protest, because we are already accustomed to the phase given. Time ran out, and we were exhausted. "From that each two lines, arrange it into 14 lines of a single poem," Larry requested. This is a good practice, I will definitely use this in the upcoming days.

This is my result from that practice:

Time Travel to 19th Century

Friday in Cebu, Casa de Campo.
A sweet exclusive place with two floors, full furnished
where different men breed all kind of guitars.

A man said:
"All you need is a proper suit, and a proper hair.
That's all these women care."

Another man said:
"I'd rather choke you now, than playing with this guitar.
But we still need to eat."

The road full of carriages, racing against the train.
People keep cheering, betting their own commodities.

Across it, the two trees are comfortably laughing,
while the cathedral is busy swallowing idle men.

We gather together here, in black and white.

As usual, we read our poems and share it to the group. Sometimes it's amazing how pressure can affect people, such as writing these poems. It's been a very productive day for us. Larry ended our session with teaching more things about poetry, "When we write a poem, we intuitively follow our own breaths. So, the line breaks and punctuation marks are important tools. Read aloud a lot of poems, try to feel the poet's breath. We try to follow it and understand the meaning of it." I never realized this, that's why my old poems are using very little punctuation, this is one of the aspects that I need to improve.

"There will always be a gap, between the poet and the poem, between the poem and the reader, it's okay. It's fine. The beauty of poetry is that they can have many meanings and interpretations, depends on the reader, depends on their reading style, depends on their background and knowledge, so it's fine. Not like a prose which is obvious with its meaning, because it's an opinion of the writer. Keep playing around with your poems, don't worry about meaning. It doesn't even have to be too literal. I hope this 14 line poem practice is useful to you. Don't stop looking at different angles and create interesting images. There is not always a meaning behind a poem, but it should always triggers an effect to its readers. No poem is done in one sitting. You should always revise it later. If your poem feels bad, find another way to write it. If it's still doesn't work, maybe it's not you, maybe it's the poem that doesn't work. Don't worry to throw it away and let it go. It's easier to let go a single page draft of a poem rather than a 200 pages of novel scripts." Larry ended the workshop, and I am very satisfied with it. So many new techniques and insights that I've learned. Hopefully, this post will be useful for others who want to write poems.

Thank you so much to TJP Writing Center team and Jakarta Book Club for this generous opportunity so I can experience this awesome course. Maybe in the future I'll join another poetry class from them, because it's worth it. If you love literature and writings, please join us in another future events.

All the participants and Larry (blue shirt at the back).

Highly appreciated for the kind words, thank you Larry! :)

lampu di halte

jakarta, dini hari
lampu di halte bersinar sendiri

selama masih ada energi
ia akan setia mengabdi

meskipun hanya sepi yang melewati
bersabar menunggu munculnya sang mentari

mengintip ke arah surga seperti nyala api
menatap kepada cermin dipenuhi ilusi

takdir para manusia adalah untuk mati
sembari membela semua yang diyakini

aku, kamu, kita, mereka, kami
masing-masing buah hati ibu pertiwi

segala yang terjadi
adalah kehendak sang ilahi

mari bersatu kembali
dalam sebuah mimpi


diriku dan aku

semakin diriku jauh darimu
semakin tak bermakna diriku

semakin aku dekat padamu
semakin hancur pula aku

diriku dan aku sejatinya padu
aku dan diriku nyatanya semu


obat rindu

aku dan kamu duduk di selangkangan senja
berbaur dengan segala cela yang ada
bagai sebutir pasir dan debu

domba-domba diperkosa para serigala
burung-burung asik menonton sembari bersiul merdu
dandelion-dandelion terus setia mengembara
dibelai hampanya angin-angin semu

sesungguhnya obat rindu di dunia ini hanya ada dua
yang pertama adalah tetes air mata
berikutnya ditambah sejumput lalu waktu

tak perlu pura-pura tertawa
tak perlu lagi menahan sendu

tumpah ruah saja lepaskan semua
hingga akhirnya kembali menjadi satu

aku dan kamu masih duduk di selangkangan senja
berbaur dengan segala cela yang ada
apalah artinya sebutir pasir dan debu

mari kita berdiam saja
sama-sama bersabar menunggu senja dilahap mimpinya
akan lautan madu dan susu


A Sunflower and A Shadow

It's been a very long time since I wrote a story, especially a personal one about my real life situation. I’ve been crying for days and I have to write this, if not I feel like I will go insane, hence this is to unload my mind. Yes, men cries and women masturbates, deal with it. This is a story about a special lady.

The best thing in this world is to be yourself... but not everyone can accept you the way you are.

The first time I saw her, she was astonishing. She laughs hard, smile wide, and dance like she didn't give a damn about the world. She got my curiosity. I got a feeling that she has the same beast as me. After all, birds of a feather flocks together. But it turned out differently, we are attracted to each other because another element, which is trust. She was having a hard time trusting other people, while I naively trust other people easily. I guess the opposites also attracts each other.

On our first date, she was magnificent. That pearl earrings, still engraved beautifully in my memories. At that time, we just sit by the bar and talking some stuffs, laughing together. All eyes in the room are into her, I feel very lucky that time, to be accompanied by her. After a few drinks, she shared some of her past mistakes and secrets. I am relieved because she trusted me with all of that. By the end of the night, she cried. This is the first time in my life, on a first date, ended with tears. From that moment I know that she really is in pain, and the regrets still caught her. Whenever I look deep into her eyes, I can feel the loneliness. The more I look, the more I’m trapped by it.

Time went by, we grew closer each day, but I found out she already had a boyfriend. Normally I wouldn’t disturb other people relationship, it’s not my style. So I wait, eagerly. Back then, I was mad because I didn’t know about it, but I can’t let her go. Then we met at a Korean restaurant which provides an oven baked chicken. I told her to cut her boyfriend and go with me instead, because he already made her cried a lot. So I keep waiting, take my time and pray everyday.

Then she broke up, hopefully not because of me, my sayings or my prayers. We continued to date, a lot. After few weeks, I asked her, "Will you be my everyday?"

She simply answered, "Yes."

I am very happy with that reply, The Heaven finally back to my course of life. I feel like having my wings back and started to fly. But life as we know it, full of ups and down, it’s unpredictable. We cannot be happy and merry forever, sometimes we need sadness to appreciate life more. Sometimes we need to lose something first to learn the real value behind it.

That time we planned to eat noodles together. The way she slurped the noodle combined with that lips, it’s just so adorable. After that, we went for yogurt. That is the first time in my life to buy some fancy yogurt at the mall shop. Usually I just bought it from a mini market, the cheap ones in a plastic cup. That yogurt color is black, it has a nice sweet taste with extra chocolate cookies topping and the other white gooey sauce that I forgot what it’s called. We shared a cup. Happiness is simple. The sun sets, we went to another place. We took drinks together. We talked about our personal life views.

Maybe I drink too much that night, maybe I can’t resist anymore. I don’t know. I was intoxicated. That incident happened so fast. It’s just like an auto-pilot, I even don’t think about it. One of my old bad habits kicked in. She saw a glimpse of my darkness, she got furious. She walked away without looking back. It was a stupid mistake, but it’s still a mistake and I must pay for the consequences.  I broke her heart and crushed her trust. I gave her another scar. My bad, I fucked up. Makes you wonder about a real relationship. Isn't it fascinating how fragile a human connection is?

Have you ever played an old game called “The Sims”? It’s about life simulation, simplified version of real life daily activities. You can create a character and make them interact with each other. There are parameters in each character, like happiness and trust. The parameter value started at “0”, and when your character starts interacting with a stranger, you can grow this to “100”, into a full happiness and trust with your selected other characters. Then you can make them a couple, having kids until they’re dead. When you’re feeling bored, or you messed up, you can decrease the value back to “0” again, but you can recover it fast into “100” with a little effort, and leave no traumas behind. Sadly, the real life is not like this. When the trust is broken, the parameter could be extremely dropped to “-100” or “-999.999.999” not going back to “0”, and that’s a big negative number. I perfectly understand this, because in my past relationships, I got betrayed a lot, over and over again. My pattern after became the victim of betrayal would be: forgive, cut all the communications, and forget. Yes, back then I burned so many brigdes. Every time it hurts, but I managed to get back up again. This time, I am the one who fucked up. I am the one that’s being cut. Now I know, whichever side you're standing, the one who cut or the one who got cut, both hurts.

Life is confusing. When you're in complete darkness, you are blind. When you are surrounded by bright shining lights without a speck of shadow, you will also be blind. When you love and really care for someone, you will end up hurting her. When you doesn’t even care anymore and ignore her, it will also end up hurting her. I almost forgot how to cry, thanks to this incident, now I can recall how it feels. Maybe we are all really connected in this world through our sufferings.

A sunflower must stay true to itself, it will only faithfully follow the sun and its light. A shadow will only makes it wither without even giving it a chance to bloom. And just like its addictive seeds, with each passing second, I’m more likely longed for her, even though she might not feel the same and continue to carry her life like nothing happened.

I didn't choose to be born as a shadow. Even the devil himself, if he can choose what role he wants in the universe, I doubt it that he would want to stuck in the hell for eternity.

I don’t want to hurt her anymore. I am very worried that she becomes more distrustful towards other people after that incident. If I can fix it, I will give everything. If there’s another chance, I will take it. I really hope we can start over again, from a clean sheet, rebuild the bridge of trust. That is a wishful thinking, because it takes two to tango, and I am still waiting for her.

After that incident, I sleep less and less. Until this writing posted, there is not a single night that I slept without dreaming of her. I’m exhausted by all of this.

Whatever happens, happens.

There’s this one time we went out to the mall, we ate at the foodcourt. I left her for a while, because I need to take a piss. When I got back, she giggled. She told me that she already looked and smiled with the guy at the table across. That guy was with his girlfriend. Then she said, “Why do all guys are the same? He is with her girlfriend but he can’t stop looking at me and smiled back to me.”

Actually that’s an easy situation. First, if I were that guy, I would do the same. You can’t resist to look back if someone interesting and attractive is looking at you, curiosity calls. Second, it will be rude not to smile back. That time I just smiled and said, “You’re naughty.”

The other time, she asked, “Why all men look for physical aspects in a woman?” “That’s the way it is. Men are visual creatures,” my wise-ass wisdom kicked in.

Usually people would ask me: “Are you a boobies boy or an ass man?” Without hesitation, I prefer ass, because that lump is hypnotizing. You know when you look a girl from the back and her rear end moves and turns so smoothly and flawlessly, big fluffy or small and tight, it doesn’t matter, always appealing. While boobs, they’re just jiggling and it’s boring to look for a long time.

I remember the other time we went into different mall, we still ate at the foodcourt though. We ate japanese fast food bento, I ordered the big combo from the menu, while she had her kids type of meal. That time there’s this one woman at the other table, her looks is so-so, but that boobs combined with her tight outfit, it was outrageous. My monkey brain took over, instantly I glared at the boobs. My date caught me staring and turned grumpy. Weeks after, I already forgot it, but she mentioned it again, maybe she’s so jealous with that woman, kinda cute behavior.

I remember the time when we went to the arcade. She played one of those dancing machines. Watching her swiveling her booty surely turned me on, and her casual outfit was simple but smokingly hot. I recorded the moment in my cellphone, I have to, so it can last longer, so I didn’t forget it, memories are frail. But now, whenever I replay the video, over and over again, watching it just make me smile by myself like a crazy little girl.

I remember when the first time she tried ‘soju’, she wrecked herself. That time, I just laugh so hard, because before she drank a lot of it, she said “Taste just like water.” She totaled, her head on the table, her small tight clothes pulled up, her ass crack shown everywhere. Too bad at that time I'm not drunk yet, so I didn't make any stupid mistakes and I covered the crack with pillows and patiently waiting her to sober up.

I remember the time when we hang out with our friends at the restaurant. She wore a cute little sexy tank top, her cleavage want to break free. While she cutely hugging the couch pillow hoping other people wouldn't notice. Why the heck she chose that outfit from the beginning? And yes, at that time, I too can’t stop looking at her.

I like to observe her, especially when she's eating. There's this one time when I was fasting, she ate 'takoyaki' in front of me, and the way she ate is just absolutely cute. Back then I wish I am that 'takoyaki'.

I remember the last new year’s eve, she asked me to accompany her that night. Usually I prefer to stay at home, it turned out that she was doing her job as a part of an event organizer team. That time I look at her and deep in my mind I thought that she got the spirit, to fight, to survive, I can feel it. She was always passionate doing her jobs and activities, except eating. I was joyful when she took my arms and showed me around. She wore a great black dress, it was her aunt's. It was a little too big, but with such craft she pinned it to show her curves. She also wore a cute bra, a dark blue one with white stripes. She wore high heels at first, then she grew tired from running around here and there, so she changed it to flat ones. When the party ends, we walked on a long high stairs to reach the upper floor where the receptionist lobby is located. At first she walked in front of me, then she worried that I might take a peek of her bottom underwear, so she walked beside me, yeah call it as a woman intuition. And she was right, too bad it wasn’t her, it was her friend who wore a cute pink pantie. Damn, I’m such a pervert! Yes, I can't deny it, head to toe, flesh and bone. I’m just a biological machine with a high sex drive.

Some other time, she showed me her smooth armpit, it’s just fabulous, my heart skipped a beat looking at that. She told me how she took care for it, how she shaved it. And yes, armpit is one of my fetishes. I have a lot of fetishes. I like it when a woman pull and tie her hair. I also like to see beautiful toes, especially paired with elegant classy high heels.

Whenever she wore a revealing outfit, I can’t stop to gaze. Usually I will tell her that it’s too sexy, it draws a lot of attention, and I can’t bear that other men will look at her cheaply. But she didn’t care and replied my warning, “That’s OK, consider it as charity.”

There is also this one time, when we were tipsy together. She kept touching me seductively, and then I held her legs, and she whispered to me, "Go higher into my thighs", she laughed. I pulled out my hand. I am such an idiot, I should’ve followed through her wish. Why do women like to play tricks?

Once upon a time, at the cinema, she kissed my cheek then she hugged my left arm real tight, with her whole body, from chest, right in the middle of her breast to between her thighs. I felt her warmth, it was magnificent. Also whenever she’s drunk and I hold her hand, it feels like burning, in a nice good way, and I like too feel her palm and fingers on that moment.

I’m a very intimate person, but I prefer doing it in private. There’s this thing called ‘popohae’, which in Korean language literally mean as a kiss. So we kissed, a peck, in a nice beer cafe. That is also the first time in my life doing that kind of stuff in public. After that, I’ve always wanted more and more, I can’t get enough, but I managed to hold it inside.

Once we did a double date with one of her friend. She wore a wrap choker, and I can’t hold it anymore, so freaking sexy! So I sneak kisses on her back, her shoulder and her neck. It was estatic.

The first time we went to the cinema to see a war movie together, she was holding her pee, and I gave her an empty plastic mineral bottle, “You can pee here,” I told her. She slapped me gently, ran fast to the bathroom, and back right away, running faster than the main character in the movie. Can a woman pee that fast? Maybe she took a pee while standing. Or maybe it’s just another result from my dirty imaginations.

I remember the time when we ate traditional fried chicken. Then we walked for a while to the nearest 24-hour mini market. Can you imagine it? A girl, walking, in the middle of the night, for such a distance. It is rare to find a girl like that nowadays. That one is a blissful walk.

There’s also this one time we stay at minimarket after watching movies together, I gave her a birthday gift. That time I expected her to open it right there, so I can see whether she likes it or not from her spontaneous expression, because my gift picking skill is kinda sucks. Thankfully she liked it a lot, I am grateful for it, and gain a little confidence to pick another gift.

I remember the time when we date at some fancy gourmet restaurant that provide instant noodle with some wacky variations. We waited a long time to be seated. She ate a banana, and I ate instant noodles, what else do you expect? We talked a lot then played a game, ‘UNO Stacko’. She lost, twice, she throwed a little tantrum and quit, and I laughed at her. But the strange thing was whenever I’m with her, it seems that I can’t be angry, I can still get mad though, but not for long. My patience just running extra miles when she’s around.

I remember the time when we ate lamb satay together. She saw an ugly rat got trapped in the window steel bars. She didn't scream at it, she showed no fear at all. She just kept her cool and continue to eat, and that is awesome. But whenever we ate together and there’s a cat below the table running around for scraps, she instantly freaked out. We all have our own fears, nothing to worry.

When she was there beside me, I feel I got a purpose. I was very happy when she said she wanted me to keep her bank account book so that she can save money and then we can take an escape vacation together. That is a future that I’ve hoped, that I’ve dreamed, but fate played it cruel, it ended without a chance to begin.

My favourite date was when we were having burgers together. There was this funny toothpick action. When it happened, I am relieved because she is very comfortable near me. Or she didn’t care whether I’m around or not. I don’t know. That time, her outfit is normal, nothing fancy, subtle. I only focused on her face, her eyes, her lips, her nose, her smiles, her laughs, her facial expressions. That time, I realized that she truly is beautiful, inside and out, I believe so, I know it. Right now, she's just lost and still finding her way to be herself. And after that date, I fell deeply into her, really hard.

A human life is amazing. So much memories have been build in a short amount of time. I will cherish all of this. Thank you for everything.

I miss her so much. I miss the way she randomly send her pics, whether it is selfie or food, or things that she bought recently, or her little innocent cousin actions. I miss the time we talked through all night discussing from shitty things to philosophy, and most of it, of course, it was me just flirting with her. I miss the voice note she send when she was too lazy to type the text. I miss the way she complained to me when she was having a bad day. I miss the way she hugged me. I miss the way she kiss my cheek and lips. I miss the way she bites my shoulder then put her head resting on it. I miss the way she sit beside me and put her legs on my lap. I miss her arms around me. I miss her smile, her laugh, her voice, her gaze. I miss the smell of her hair. I miss every part of her. She opened a new world for me. She matters a lot in my life. She filled my days. My intuition tells me that she is the one, hopefully this isn’t wrong.

I’m gonna carry this weight.

In a relationship, I am a very physical person. Yes, I prefer ass than boobies, but that’s not completely true. The physical traits that attracted me the most is the eyes, the neck and then the ears. I like those three features a lot. If there’s a lady with beautiful deep eyes, a nice long smooth neck with a necklace or choker hanging around, and ears with a good pair of matched earrings that suited her style, it’s just an instant knock out for me.

Is it shallow to look for physical features in your partner? Is there any different when a woman can’t hold her drools when seeing a man with a tightly perfect six-pack abs? Is it wrong that I’ve always craved for physical activities? Is it shallow for this to happen in a relationship, especially before marriage?

As long as there is a body, desires will be born. If I say that I don’t want her body, then I would be lying to myself. No sane man in this world that can resist the perfect ratio of her voluptuous body.

Saying that I only wanted her body is also not the complete truth. If I want a body just to fulfill my fleshly needs, then It’s better with a prostitute, it’s simple, cheap, no commitment, no hassle, but it will feels empty. I don’t want that. I prefer not to do it with some random people. And with each passing time, body will withers away.

Personally, I think physical connection is a deeper step to take in a relationship. The intimacy will brought a couple together, more closer, more comfortable, more open to each other. It will brings more meaningful connections. That’s the ideal state in my mind. Of course both of the party must be willing and ready.

I want her body. Why not enjoy it while it lasts? I wan’t her to be happy. I want her to be successful. I want her to be comfortable with herself. I want her to be more confident, I believe she can. I want her to be the main star on the stage. I want her not to feel lonely again. So many wants, right? But, what I really need is more time with her, that’s all. If we can grow old together, that will be perfect.

Do I care for her? Very much with all my heart, without a single doubt. Do I love her? Maybe. I don’t know. If I love her, I am afraid that she won’t love me back. Is situation like this can be called as love? Or is this an obsession? Can love exist without lust? If so, why there is still this thing called incest? Is possesiveness also a kind of lust? So many questions, and they breed more questions. Not everything have an answer, not everything must be answered. All we have to do is keep pushing ahead in this swift journey.

Wolves, no matter how hard they tried, they can’t live with sheep. There’s this old ‘Cherokee’ story that tell us there’s two kind of wolves living in each every one of us, they’re always fighting with each other for us, the light wolf and the dark wolf. The light wolf represents joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The dark wolf represents anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. Which one will win? The one you feed.

After all these years, I thought I was becoming stronger. I’ve suppressed all of my urges and keep feeding the light wolf. Sadly, it turns out that I haven’t budge an inch from my former weakest state. Such a failure, such a disgrace. I’m just running around in circle. I thought suppressing all these urges is the best practice. The fact is that I am not strong enough. The most hurtful thing is I broke my own principle, I’ve betrayed myself. It’s shameful.

When I fucked up with that incident and hurt her, my first reaction is to change myself for her, but then I realized that’s not the correct path to take. If she comes back for me because I’ve changed into a man that deserve her, then that’s good. But if she’s gone again, my inner-world will crumble apart. So I have to change, selfishly, for my own self. I must become better at all cost, for me, myself and I, nothing else. This time I will not only feed my light wolf. I will feed my dark wolf too. It’s been too long, he's starving. I will acknowledge them and they can share a meal. They both can win together, hopefully.

I am tired fighting with all of you guys inside me. Come, it's time to embrace, you guys can take it all, eat me whole. I have nothing to lose. I don’t want to become a shadow anymore, I am stressed and bored with that same result. This time it will be different, even if I have to abandon everything, just for this one time, I need to become the light. Only time will tell how this all will end.

Good night. Tomorrow will be a brand new morning.

How can you pull yourself out of the abyss if no one is there to give you a hand?

You are your only hope.

kamarku (2)

pintu terkunci.
jendela tertutup.
dinding diam.
cermin sepi.
bantal dan guling pergi.
selimut sembunyi.
ranjang kosong rapi.
lantai dingin.
lampu mati.

yang terasa hanya detak jantung,
yang terdengar hanya nafas.

hidup cuma sebatas ini.



hari ini hujan, tapi
kamarku tidaklah sepi

laron-laron datang bertamu lagi
hanya untuk melayang-layang sehari
mengitari lingkaran cahaya ilusi,
lalu mati

cicak-cicak pun girang bernanyi
semut-semut sibuk bersorak-sorai
mereka semua merampasi
sayap-sayap patah dan kumpulan bangkai

si kecoak masih saja malu dirantai nurani
pada punggung ranjang ia sembunyi sendiri
setia menungguku terlelap hanyut dalam lautan mimpi

hidup ternyata cuma sebatas ini


jangan menangis

jangan menangis, wahai anak manis
biar kurias parasmu
dengan air mataku

jangan menangis, wahai anak manis
tumor-tumor itu akan minggat pergi
dan kelak engkau sembuh kembali

jangan menangis, wahai anak manis
saatnya menanam waktu dan sabar
hingga rasa rindu mengakar

jangan menangis, wahai anak manis
sekarang baiknya engkau tidur
dan bangun esok lebih mujur



semalaman hujan

semalaman ranjangku dingin sepi
semalaman cuma aku dan rintik sunyi
semalaman pikiranku ramai sekali
semalaman hanya terus menanti

sebuah jawaban.



mengintip malam ini,
derik-derik sepi menang lagi.
kembali, tak ada yang dinanti.

bayangan cekikikan, cahaya mati.
sebuah memori
tentang harapan pergi.


asu (2)

kamu itu candu,
dan aku ini asu.

setiap waktu kita berpadu,
semua berubah menjadi madu dan susu
tanpa belenggu.

biarkan api terus setia memeluk kayu,
biarkan sepi dan rindu menyatu.


asu (1)

biarkan aku merajut keriting ombakmu
menjadi selimut dalam seluruh mimpi-mimpiku.

biarkan aku minum dari bibirmu
setiap kali malam datang menjamu.

biarkan aku menggantung seluruh jiwaku dalam kasihmu,
seperti asu yang kecanduan susu.



jangan jadikan aku
sebagai kekasihmu
kalau kamu sendiri tak mampu
menjadi sumbu
bagi apiku.



waktu yang terbaik adalah malam hari.
di mana sunyi belajar membisu.
dan gelap gulita saling bertindih-tindih.

saat itu, mata terbuka dan tertutup tak berbeda.
itulah waktunya dimulai perjalanan,
melewati gerbang yang berdiri sepi,
tanpa daun pintu menemani.

semua itu hanya untuk mencari
bayangan ilusi kita sendiri.



kita semua ini lahir, ada dan berpadu,
hanya untuk menjadi kumpulan bongkahan
kenangan rindu.

sampai akhirnya tak ada lagi yang memungutnya
satu per satu.



izinkan aku mengecup seluruh tubuhmu
dan merasakan setiap lekukannya,
seperti orang buta yang sedang khusyuk membaca.

biarkan malam tetap kelam
biarkan bunyi setia dalam sunyi
biarkan bulan dan bintang penuh cemburu

aku dan kamu menjadi satu dalam mimpi,
hingga kita berdua terbangun kembali
menjadi nyata dalam ilusi.


tali hitam

malam itu kupingku dan antingmu bertemu,
kupingku tertawa tersipu malu
ketika melihat antingmu tersenyum lugu.

lalu tiba-tiba muncul rindu pada waktu,
yang senantiasa menjaga, kala kita
saling diam dan berbagi rahasia, bersama-sama.

seutas tali hitam terkait di leher kita,



aku mencintai hujan,
namun hujan selalu menginginkan tanah,
dan tak pernah sekali pun ia berpaling.

penuh kesal kuinjak-injak tempatku berpijak,
dengan kedua kaki mungilku, karena aku
belum juga menyatu dengannya.

tanah pun bersedih,
dengan sabar menumbuhkan jutaan pohon rindang,
mengadukan rindunya pada langit.

langit melihat dan tersenyum,
sembari setia membelai awan-awan.
mereka semua terus berlalu-lalang tanpa meninggalkan jejak.

terkadang awan pun bisa cemburu penuh malu,
ketika pasir memupuk kasih sejati dengan laut.
saat itu tubuhnya seketika dipenuhi jingga.

aku di sini sendiri, memandang itu semua silih berganti,
merasakan angin yang sibuk menari,
bersama bayanganku yang tak tergoyahkan nirmala.