To Helen

You taught me what pain was.

You showed me how hollow the darkness could be

And how it would consume every light

Tucked in each corner of our soul,

From the brightest to the faintest.

You shared me the unbearable loneliness.

You showed me how a bird, once wounded when young,

Still could not fly until the end;

How happiness could die and never be revived.

Yet, the biggest lesson you gave me is

No matter how bitter life tastes on our tongues,

No matter how broken we have come to be,

No matter how unhappy we might feel,

We can still be a great gift for others,

For it is through your bitterness and pain,

Your brokenness and grieve, your loneliness and fear,

I learn to be grateful.

Helen Ryan (RIP Oct 6, 2012)

“Thank you for sharing me your precious life. Hope you finally realize that you have been a gift and I am sorry for not being there in your darkest hour. May the Lord welcome you and comfort you with everlasting joy and peace.”

A Sonnet

The pebbles and the moonstone in the rain

Are gleaming like a cup of falling stars.

The bloody feathers and the dewy petals

Are gathered like enormous roses-beds.

The damp and dusty hall after the storm

Is fuming fragrant odor of dead dreams.

The broken strings of lyra and guitar

Are tuned to play no melody tonight.

The bouncing lilies and the shattered hope

Are floating, dancing as they glide away.

The rusty knife mixed with some sugar cane

Are stirred, dissolving into my sweet tea.

The Sun! Will he come home again to me?

Yet, maybe I enjoy this darkness more.

September 30, 2012

– a small project to help my student 🙂

Si Cantik dan Si Buruk Rupa

Wanita seperti dirimu mana mungkin mengerti!

Apa maksudmu wanita seperti diriku?

Ya, wanita yang dilahirkan dengan wajah cantik, tubuh indah dan kulit tak bercacat.

Aku…

Jangan bilang kau tidak menikmati ketenaran yang kau dapat dengan kecantikanmu. Seringai.

Tapi aku tidak pernah berbuat jahat padamu! Pada siapa pun!

Seringai semakin lebar. Lirikan tajam yang mengolok-olok. Tapi kau menghakimiku.

Aku tidak…

Diam!

Kau tidak habis pikir bukan? Makhluk keji apa yang sanggup menghancurkan mimpi gadis-gadis muda itu? Kau kira kau sudah berusaha mengerti. Tapi bagaimana seekor burung yang mengudara mengerti penderitaan cacing tanah yang menggeliat menembus debu dan liat?

Jeda.

Bungkam mulutmu sekarang? Lihatlah diriku kini! Lihat apa yang setan-setan itu telah lakukan padaku! Tudung tersingkap tangan keriput penuh parut luka dan koreng yang tak kunjung mengering.

Jangan palingkan wajahmu! Kuku-kuku tajam mencakar kedua tangan, memaksa tubuh mendekat padanya. Kau ingin lihat setan macam apa yang selama ini menghantui hidup mereka? Lihatlah!

Aku tidak…

Tamparan keras. Nyeri berdenyut di pipi. Lihat aku, perempuan jahanam!

Apa yang harus kulihat? Bahkan setan pun masih berwajah!

Bertubi-tubi pisau berkarat kasar merobek kulit, mengoyak daging. Darah mengucur, bercampur karat. Nyeri menggerogot sampai tulang, terlalu sakit bahkan untuk jerit dan tangis.

Jangan kau kira kau bisa mati. Seringai terjahat. Inilah neraka dan akulah iblismu! Seonggok daging meluncur copot dari pipi kanan.

A-apa…

Sepecahan cermin diangkat ke depan wajah.

Tidaaak!

Lihatlah wujud barumu! Tawa yang begitu gembira. Ya, akulah iblis yang akan menciptakan setan-setan baru untuk mengacau dunia. Tawa jahat menggema.

Gelap! Tolonglah… Bukankah ini saatnya gelap menyergap dan membawaku pergi?

Bagaimana seekor burung dapat mengerti penderitaan cacing tanah? Potong kedua sayapnya, cabuti semua bulunya dan kubur dia hidup-hidup!

Jangan…

Kau ingin mengerti aku, bukan? Mengertilah penderitaanku dulu!

Tangis. Penyesalan. Sengsara tiada akhir dalam neraka tanpa pintu.

 

Jakarta, Agustus 2011

The Wife

Two purple spots and one red.

They decorate her fragile skin

That strains hard to contain

The swelling blood, bulging

From beneath the smooth surface.

Signs of dedication, they are,

She would like to believe,

Or worse, sacrifices of love.

Yet, deep down she knows…

They’re but fear going cold,

Clenching around her spinal cord,

Injecting false obedience.

One red spot turns purple.

Soon, they will pass and be past,

Simply a forgotten old story

Until history repeats itself

When more red spots arrive.

ThinkThing

Think you can buy me
With your luscious kisses
And intoxicating whispers?
Think I’ll open my legs
For your ardent desire
And suave seduction?
Think you can have me
With nine silver moons
Served on my plate?
Think I’ll yield and bow
For more dancing stars
Encircling my finger?
Think you know me?
Think again!

Sep 14, 2010
10:24 am