By Susy Ayu
your wide love like this kind
just a strait inch between the mainland and its
as far as a dandaka forest and alengka
your wide love like this kind
distance traveled salty and bitter
boundary between the shallow and deep
my heart as your prisoner
could never I prove it
that she is a virgin
Karimunjawa, October 2011
---------------------------------------------------------
Susy Ayu. Woman poets. Lives in Bekasi, West Java.
Dec 30, 2011
Dec 25, 2011
On the Morning of Christ's Nativity
By John Milton
It was the winter wild,
While the heaven-born child
All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;
Nature, in awe to him,
Had doffed her gaudy trim,
With her great Master so to sympathize:
It was no season then for her
To wanton with the Sun, her lusty Paramour.
---------------------------------
John Milton (9 December 1608 – 8 November 1674) was an English poet, polemicist, a scholarly man of letters, and a civil servant for the Commonwealth (republic) of England under Oliver Cromwell. He wrote at a time of religious flux and political upheaval, and is best known for his epic poem Paradise Lost. (Wikipedia.org)
It was the winter wild,
While the heaven-born child
All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;
Nature, in awe to him,
Had doffed her gaudy trim,
With her great Master so to sympathize:
It was no season then for her
To wanton with the Sun, her lusty Paramour.
---------------------------------
John Milton (9 December 1608 – 8 November 1674) was an English poet, polemicist, a scholarly man of letters, and a civil servant for the Commonwealth (republic) of England under Oliver Cromwell. He wrote at a time of religious flux and political upheaval, and is best known for his epic poem Paradise Lost. (Wikipedia.org)
Dec 20, 2011
Fading Joy
By Rbe Pramono
The sky is dark and cold and gloom
and thy fragrance of love to the mist disperses;
Slowly our memories creep out of the room
where once united our two universes.
Flirting my soul with thy fading smiles,
the moon launches my senses to the emptiness.
Shall I bridge the distance of a thousand miles
and bring thee back to swim in the sea of madness?
Tonight thou come to my silent rim;
oh sweet rose, I lost the wind thou breeze,
it slips away and come what may.
Hence, through the leaves I whisper my dream
and let the bees thy crimson joy squeeze
and bequeath this love to dim light to slay
Yogyakarta, November 29, 2011
---------------------------------------------------------
Rbe Pramono. Lives in Yogyakarta.
The sky is dark and cold and gloom
and thy fragrance of love to the mist disperses;
Slowly our memories creep out of the room
where once united our two universes.
Flirting my soul with thy fading smiles,
the moon launches my senses to the emptiness.
Shall I bridge the distance of a thousand miles
and bring thee back to swim in the sea of madness?
Tonight thou come to my silent rim;
oh sweet rose, I lost the wind thou breeze,
it slips away and come what may.
Hence, through the leaves I whisper my dream
and let the bees thy crimson joy squeeze
and bequeath this love to dim light to slay
Yogyakarta, November 29, 2011
---------------------------------------------------------
Rbe Pramono. Lives in Yogyakarta.
Dec 15, 2011
Lonely
By Nona G Muchtar
there is something I don’t realize previously
that do not need to find something to hold the tears
if one day we will find there’s no the end road
and I just need to keep the sadness in my chest behind
this day was wrapped a little tough of an old tree in front of the house
if one day we actually choose our own path to arrive
most can not be kept tears at the root
and my chest into the trunk
that even many times you try to slice, only the left thumb along the segment
You may choose to be whatever
whatever, everything
the tree will always grow
and the wind kept their leaves
November 10, 2011
--------------------------------------------------
Nona G Muchtar. Known as the woman poet, from Palu - Sulawesi. Lives in Jakarta.
there is something I don’t realize previously
that do not need to find something to hold the tears
if one day we will find there’s no the end road
and I just need to keep the sadness in my chest behind
this day was wrapped a little tough of an old tree in front of the house
if one day we actually choose our own path to arrive
most can not be kept tears at the root
and my chest into the trunk
that even many times you try to slice, only the left thumb along the segment
You may choose to be whatever
whatever, everything
the tree will always grow
and the wind kept their leaves
November 10, 2011
--------------------------------------------------
Nona G Muchtar. Known as the woman poet, from Palu - Sulawesi. Lives in Jakarta.
Dec 10, 2011
Male Infertility Prayer
By Senja Di Kintamani
not just a friday night
myriads of similar mucus tadpole, spurting
dashed into the canal generation
slightly different from urine
Lord, show the power countless in number of pray verse reinforced trip mucus ovum fertilize
forms zygote, turned into an embryo
Lord, please give an answer
if this part of the plan, after
I'll be there a perfect man?
without a baby in women carrying
Dien Makmur, Majenang, 2011
------------------------------------
Senja Di Kintamani. Lives in Majenang, West Java.
not just a friday night
myriads of similar mucus tadpole, spurting
dashed into the canal generation
slightly different from urine
Lord, show the power countless in number of pray verse reinforced trip mucus ovum fertilize
forms zygote, turned into an embryo
Lord, please give an answer
if this part of the plan, after
I'll be there a perfect man?
without a baby in women carrying
Dien Makmur, Majenang, 2011
------------------------------------
Senja Di Kintamani. Lives in Majenang, West Java.
back home
By Febby Sahla
I'm not up on the detection of wind rattling rhythm playing.
I'm here, on the rock... staring at the horizon without
boundaries letting the wind slapped my face repeatedly, enjoying warm sun unites the deepest recesses of the soul
and the waves gently caressing my toes.
I'm here.
above the towering reef.
and certainly missed being home.
December 2, 2011
--------------------------------------------------------
Febby Sahla. Often writes on social networking sites. Lives in Semarang.
I'm not up on the detection of wind rattling rhythm playing.
I'm here, on the rock... staring at the horizon without
boundaries letting the wind slapped my face repeatedly, enjoying warm sun unites the deepest recesses of the soul
and the waves gently caressing my toes.
I think nothing...
I let it all sink arise following an endless poem of life.
yes, the occasional ripple breaking my reverie. but sometimes
the vortex was like a stunt that serves delicious beauty.
I'm here.
above the towering reef.
and certainly missed being home.
December 2, 2011
--------------------------------------------------------
Febby Sahla. Often writes on social networking sites. Lives in Semarang.
Dec 5, 2011
we are in between
By Febby Sahla
no estimate
no virtual
no rest...
all the natural course
all real
perfect flow
like the wind in the leaves moving in rhythm
like a flute in inflatable shepherd
rhythmic motion as the globe
and as dusk speckled shade
moist earth immediately
there we are in between
June 22, 2011
------------------------------------------------
Febby Sahla. Lives in Semarang.
no estimate
no virtual
no rest...
all the natural course
all real
perfect flow
like the wind in the leaves moving in rhythm
like a flute in inflatable shepherd
rhythmic motion as the globe
and as dusk speckled shade
moist earth immediately
there we are in between
June 22, 2011
------------------------------------------------
Febby Sahla. Lives in Semarang.
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 25, 2011
When Must Say It
By Dalasari Pera
what would be in vain
if I preach
a handfuls of mushrooms
had sent to your nights?
fully convinced, I fulfill
knowing that love can not be perfect
not you are making enough
then I love thee
follow the flow
because the estuary where you're in a full moon
is an undeniable mystery
Belawa, November 5, 2011
-------------------------------------------
Dalasari Pera. Woman's writer. Lives in Makassar.
what would be in vain
if I preach
a handfuls of mushrooms
had sent to your nights?
fully convinced, I fulfill
knowing that love can not be perfect
not you are making enough
then I love thee
follow the flow
because the estuary where you're in a full moon
is an undeniable mystery
Belawa, November 5, 2011
-------------------------------------------
Dalasari Pera. Woman's writer. Lives in Makassar.
Nov 20, 2011
And I Remember You as the Rain
By Skylashtar Maryam
And I remember you as the rain
points are tiptoeing thin drizzle over the top of your chest gutters
then fell to my lips
lips are numb, aching wait for a jest
I still remember you as the rain
hurricane shade in the dry season
dry winds flying from your eyes into my tongue
an agile tongue dance sheen babble
of you who do not know the way home
about which I can only remember
face in the rain
Bandung, November 4, 2011
-------------------------------------------------
Skylashtar Maryam. A writer and a poets. Works in Bandung.
And I remember you as the rain
points are tiptoeing thin drizzle over the top of your chest gutters
then fell to my lips
lips are numb, aching wait for a jest
I still remember you as the rain
hurricane shade in the dry season
dry winds flying from your eyes into my tongue
an agile tongue dance sheen babble
of you who do not know the way home
about which I can only remember
face in the rain
Bandung, November 4, 2011
-------------------------------------------------
Skylashtar Maryam. A writer and a poets. Works in Bandung.
Nov 15, 2011
After the Death
By August Suhardono
Always a surprise
that bring memories to follow, the light flickering.
Why did they enter it. Like a blurry picture television spots.
Silently dripped gently on an electric substation.
Slowly go without knowing in a twilight of the rainy season
the leaves are still not want to say hello.
They are like a sheet of paper which scratched from an old record.
Many of the names listed in a quiet, cool.
Still available to enjoy the beauty of your days
but the shadows were more real than the tired bodies.
The cowboys of the hero does not really matter anymore
shelter behind all the power and arrogance.
November 6, 2011
---------------------------------
August Suhardono. Lives in Jakarta.
Always a surprise
that bring memories to follow, the light flickering.
Why did they enter it. Like a blurry picture television spots.
Silently dripped gently on an electric substation.
Slowly go without knowing in a twilight of the rainy season
the leaves are still not want to say hello.
They are like a sheet of paper which scratched from an old record.
Many of the names listed in a quiet, cool.
Still available to enjoy the beauty of your days
but the shadows were more real than the tired bodies.
The cowboys of the hero does not really matter anymore
shelter behind all the power and arrogance.
November 6, 2011
---------------------------------
August Suhardono. Lives in Jakarta.
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 5, 2011
The Last of October
By Ratih Ayu
The more lights up and up...
hit the self can not stand.
Last week of October.
Bang calling.
I still blinked my eyes.
The world was too quiet, not wanting
looking for loopholes
where the voices of tired
peeking around the horizon.
October 25, 2011
------------------------
Ratih Ayu. A student, lives in Jakarta.
The more lights up and up...
hit the self can not stand.
Last week of October.
Bang calling.
I still blinked my eyes.
The world was too quiet, not wanting
looking for loopholes
where the voices of tired
peeking around the horizon.
October 25, 2011
------------------------
Ratih Ayu. A student, lives in Jakarta.
Oct 30, 2011
Flamboyant Collapses
By August Suhardono
The magnificent return to his home and wait there
days are getting shorter dry oasis desert of Sirte
Like a desert fox in the bushes to sneak cryptic
unconscious demons continue to seek people's struggle endlessly
A miserable flamboyant, splendor, and forget the time unfriendly
authority inviting forget, the low-flying eagle wings no longer
Khadaffy, farewell flamboyant!
October 20, 2011
-------------------------
August Suhardono. Lives in Jakarta.
The magnificent return to his home and wait there
days are getting shorter dry oasis desert of Sirte
Like a desert fox in the bushes to sneak cryptic
unconscious demons continue to seek people's struggle endlessly
A miserable flamboyant, splendor, and forget the time unfriendly
authority inviting forget, the low-flying eagle wings no longer
Khadaffy, farewell flamboyant!
October 20, 2011
-------------------------
August Suhardono. Lives in Jakarta.
Oct 25, 2011
Midwinter
By Tomas Tranströmer
A blue light
radiates from my clothing.
Midwinter.
Clattering tambourines of ice.
I close my eyes.
There is a silent world
there is a crack
where the dead
are smuggled across the border.
--------------------------------------------------------
(Source Barbara Chai, wsj blog, wsj.com)
Tomas Tranströmer. Born in Stockholm in 1931. He is Scandinavia’s preeminent poet. Tranströmer is the recipient of the 2011 Nobel Prize for Literature. His other honors and awards include the Aftonbladets Literary Prize, the Bonnier Award for Poetry, the Neustadt International Prize for Literature, the Oevralids Prize, the Petrach Prize in Germany, and the Swedish Award from International Poetry Forum.
A blue light
radiates from my clothing.
Midwinter.
Clattering tambourines of ice.
I close my eyes.
There is a silent world
there is a crack
where the dead
are smuggled across the border.
--------------------------------------------------------
(Source Barbara Chai, wsj blog, wsj.com)
Tomas Tranströmer. Born in Stockholm in 1931. He is Scandinavia’s preeminent poet. Tranströmer is the recipient of the 2011 Nobel Prize for Literature. His other honors and awards include the Aftonbladets Literary Prize, the Bonnier Award for Poetry, the Neustadt International Prize for Literature, the Oevralids Prize, the Petrach Prize in Germany, and the Swedish Award from International Poetry Forum.
Oct 20, 2011
At the Tip of the Tongue
By Ramoun Apta
at the tip of the tongue there is a sentence
would manifests a language
but the new sentence, still too naive
felt not enough age for brings delivery of meaning
sentence must be returned to the uvula
and nurtured to be more mature joke
Padang, 2011
------------------------------------------------
Ramoun Apta. Sungai Binjai born Poet, Muara Bungo, Jambi, October 26, 1991. Student of Sastra Indonesia, Andalas University, Padang.
(Source Kompas Minggu, October 16, 2011)
at the tip of the tongue there is a sentence
would manifests a language
but the new sentence, still too naive
felt not enough age for brings delivery of meaning
sentence must be returned to the uvula
and nurtured to be more mature joke
Padang, 2011
------------------------------------------------
Ramoun Apta. Sungai Binjai born Poet, Muara Bungo, Jambi, October 26, 1991. Student of Sastra Indonesia, Andalas University, Padang.
(Source Kompas Minggu, October 16, 2011)
Oct 10, 2011
Night Elegy
By Wild Dove
Sky,
when was a sense of despair without cutting into time?
When you find the wind to speak on the shutters down,
I was waiting for a touch of your present
Mock me to the dusk numbers
I feel your present
Shadow,
make love in the array of my ego
Don’t strip me in the open dark taste
I gave up on the wides chest
Let me love you through the steps doings,
because it can only give ran with seeds embedded reins
I love you,
lustful
thousands of taste,
millions rhythm
Struggle in my taste
September 24, 2011
-------------------------------------------------------
Wild Dove. Female poet, lived in Jakarta.
Sky,
when was a sense of despair without cutting into time?
When you find the wind to speak on the shutters down,
I was waiting for a touch of your present
Mock me to the dusk numbers
I feel your present
Shadow,
make love in the array of my ego
Don’t strip me in the open dark taste
I gave up on the wides chest
Let me love you through the steps doings,
because it can only give ran with seeds embedded reins
I love you,
lustful
thousands of taste,
millions rhythm
Struggle in my taste
September 24, 2011
-------------------------------------------------------
Wild Dove. Female poet, lived in Jakarta.
Oct 5, 2011
Long Drought
By Alex Putra Siosar
Rain had been not down to the water
The well dry give deep echoes
However, fields full of water in turmoil
Toad frog was happily singing
Eels dancing with dance drunk
Rice looks to soft bow
Waiting for the sky struck the heart water tidal
Waiting for burning drought withered
Be a lantern in the chaos page
Drought is still a long ...
Bukit Lawang, August 2011
----------------------------------------------------
Alex Putra Siosar. The poets, live in Bukit Lawang, Langkat, North Sumatra.
Rain had been not down to the water
The well dry give deep echoes
However, fields full of water in turmoil
Toad frog was happily singing
Eels dancing with dance drunk
Rice looks to soft bow
Waiting for the sky struck the heart water tidal
Waiting for burning drought withered
Be a lantern in the chaos page
Drought is still a long ...
Bukit Lawang, August 2011
----------------------------------------------------
Alex Putra Siosar. The poets, live in Bukit Lawang, Langkat, North Sumatra.
Sep 30, 2011
Mirror
By Rain Queen
......
Although sometimes feel regret ever kept longing; done in vain and useless act
it's just that he walked straight without finding a mirror to stop, simply pass reportedly
so to whom he was stepping
hihi haha hehe
the men bitch on the edge of the mirror started to giggle
reflections laugh at their foolish
'trying to raised to right, you must lift the left' he exclaimed full of silliness
indeed he belongs to illness women are forced to draw a smile alive
for problems and things that accomplishes nothing
he was slumped on the regrets over missed indulgence
March 9, 2011
--------------------------------------------------
Rain Queen. Female poet, lives in Banda Aceh.
......
Although sometimes feel regret ever kept longing; done in vain and useless act
it's just that he walked straight without finding a mirror to stop, simply pass reportedly
so to whom he was stepping
hihi haha hehe
the men bitch on the edge of the mirror started to giggle
reflections laugh at their foolish
'trying to raised to right, you must lift the left' he exclaimed full of silliness
indeed he belongs to illness women are forced to draw a smile alive
for problems and things that accomplishes nothing
he was slumped on the regrets over missed indulgence
March 9, 2011
--------------------------------------------------
Rain Queen. Female poet, lives in Banda Aceh.
Sep 25, 2011
the lost
By Ratih Kumbara
lovely parting hope will open a beautiful
after all the effort I do to recover the lost
do not ever regret this separation
do you make a story as if you want to survive
because it will only reduce gratitude to god
you do not overload their innocent
grow on their expectations
with the story that we are okay...
September 15, 2011
-----------------------------------------
Ratih Kumbara. Poets’ lover. Now working in Jakarta, came from Yogyakarta.
lovely parting hope will open a beautiful
after all the effort I do to recover the lost
do not ever regret this separation
do you make a story as if you want to survive
because it will only reduce gratitude to god
you do not overload their innocent
grow on their expectations
with the story that we are okay...
September 15, 2011
-----------------------------------------
Ratih Kumbara. Poets’ lover. Now working in Jakarta, came from Yogyakarta.
Sep 20, 2011
Sleep
By Ramayani Riance
lie down
sleep
forget the your hair-raising live it your poem
live it your teaches book
then let the silence that squeezes your chest
just close your eyes on the humming bird scolds
tomorrow will be fine
----------------------------------
Ramayani Riance. Female poets. Active writing poetry in her poetry community – “Komunitas Pintu”, living in Jambi.
lie down
sleep
forget the your hair-raising live it your poem
live it your teaches book
then let the silence that squeezes your chest
just close your eyes on the humming bird scolds
tomorrow will be fine
----------------------------------
Ramayani Riance. Female poets. Active writing poetry in her poetry community – “Komunitas Pintu”, living in Jambi.
Sep 15, 2011
Heaven's Fishing
By Dewi Maharani
in his eyes
sun outage
in my eyes
roared the beach
do not give us the net
we do not want to fall all the inhabitants of the sea
then with their curses
thereby making our stomachs distended
give us that hook
for fishing heaven’s peak
reignite Your sun
calm beach hearts
in the essential sincerity...
Bogor, August 21, 2011
-----------------------------------------------
Dewi Maharani. The female poet, her works are scattered in various media, such as Kompas Oase and the social media networking. Living in Bogor. Her blog can be found in http://poemscafebydm.blogspot.com/
in his eyes
sun outage
in my eyes
roared the beach
do not give us the net
we do not want to fall all the inhabitants of the sea
then with their curses
thereby making our stomachs distended
give us that hook
for fishing heaven’s peak
reignite Your sun
calm beach hearts
in the essential sincerity...
Bogor, August 21, 2011
-----------------------------------------------
Dewi Maharani. The female poet, her works are scattered in various media, such as Kompas Oase and the social media networking. Living in Bogor. Her blog can be found in http://poemscafebydm.blogspot.com/
Sep 10, 2011
pale moon
By Lia Salsabila
waves roll up to reveal the heart, sea salt crystallized in the gutter.
full sun when the pale moon pour suffer.
you,
do not stop smiling breathed the breath of love in the universe even though the wound did not greet tired,
"I cracked a sign of love the soul grows not prohibited"
September 10, 2011
-------------------------------------------------------
Lia Salsabila. Always writing poets in social media site, lives in Jember, East Java. Her other poets can be found in this blog.
waves roll up to reveal the heart, sea salt crystallized in the gutter.
full sun when the pale moon pour suffer.
you,
do not stop smiling breathed the breath of love in the universe even though the wound did not greet tired,
"I cracked a sign of love the soul grows not prohibited"
September 10, 2011
-------------------------------------------------------
Lia Salsabila. Always writing poets in social media site, lives in Jember, East Java. Her other poets can be found in this blog.
Sep 5, 2011
Youth Times
By Ishtar Maryam
Running away deer run
ran into the middle of cassava fields
not to the farm, there are farmers
the angry cassava farmers, lame deer
broken legs
Running away, deer run
ran into the granary
not to the barn, there are farmers
rice farmers are friendly, lame deer
brought home
Running away, the deer can not run
But still want to run
keep running
Bandung, September 2, 2011
-------------------------------------------
Ishtar Maryam. Often writing in various media. Living in Bandung.
Running away deer run
ran into the middle of cassava fields
not to the farm, there are farmers
the angry cassava farmers, lame deer
broken legs
Running away, deer run
ran into the granary
not to the barn, there are farmers
rice farmers are friendly, lame deer
brought home
Running away, the deer can not run
But still want to run
keep running
Bandung, September 2, 2011
-------------------------------------------
Ishtar Maryam. Often writing in various media. Living in Bandung.
Aug 30, 2011
Lebaran
By Beni Setia
mother was not in vain to establish longing
although the wind is always to shreds
intact dome of the sky after takbir
-----
Lebaran
By Dimas Arika Mihardja
Lebaran drums
the marker of victory
:tears of compassion
**(From the book Anthology Poems of 50 Poets "Kitab Radja-Ratoe Alit")
Jakarta, 2011
---------------------------------------
Beni Setia and Dimas Arika Mihardja. A poets. Living in Jakarta.
"Happy Eid ul-Fitri 1432 H - Minal Aidin Wal Faidzin"
mother was not in vain to establish longing
although the wind is always to shreds
intact dome of the sky after takbir
-----
Lebaran
By Dimas Arika Mihardja
Lebaran drums
the marker of victory
:tears of compassion
**(From the book Anthology Poems of 50 Poets "Kitab Radja-Ratoe Alit")
Jakarta, 2011
---------------------------------------
Beni Setia and Dimas Arika Mihardja. A poets. Living in Jakarta.
"Happy Eid ul-Fitri 1432 H - Minal Aidin Wal Faidzin"
Aug 25, 2011
Proclamation Manuscript
By Darman D. Hoeri
You, be read more. Be heard again. At a certain moment. I blushed, always blushed. The discordant sound out loud, fly you away off into the sky. You flakes word by word. Drift you away somewhere. On the way home, the children had been impatiently watching for television. It must be sought - of knight middle of nowhere. Lazy supine, head in the base picture book -hero of this country. Ah, the proclamation. Buzzing you adrift.
August 22, 2011
-------------------------------------------
Darman D. Hoeri. A poets. Living in Jakarta.
You, be read more. Be heard again. At a certain moment. I blushed, always blushed. The discordant sound out loud, fly you away off into the sky. You flakes word by word. Drift you away somewhere. On the way home, the children had been impatiently watching for television. It must be sought - of knight middle of nowhere. Lazy supine, head in the base picture book -hero of this country. Ah, the proclamation. Buzzing you adrift.August 22, 2011
-------------------------------------------
Darman D. Hoeri. A poets. Living in Jakarta.
Aug 20, 2011
Symphony shoots of weeds
By Esthi Bhirawati
:Ahya Rusdi
Symphony shoots of weeds,
Like a line of my prayer to you,
Sticking spilled into the blue sky,
Entrusted Him to my love...
Symphony shoots of weeds,
Always accompany your journey,
In between prayers,
In the arms of the heart,
Always take care of you,
my love...
Indralaya, January 3, 2011
-----------------------------------------------------
Esthi Bhirawati. Poets lover, living in Jakarta.
:Ahya Rusdi
Symphony shoots of weeds,
Like a line of my prayer to you,
Sticking spilled into the blue sky,
Entrusted Him to my love...
Symphony shoots of weeds,
Always accompany your journey,
In between prayers,
In the arms of the heart,
Always take care of you,
my love...
Indralaya, January 3, 2011
-----------------------------------------------------
Esthi Bhirawati. Poets lover, living in Jakarta.
Aug 15, 2011
rivers of grief
Indonesia, tomorrow we are free
commemorate, but they are not independent
do not know what to eat tomorrow, there is no audible
property, conscience, togetherness, multiculturalism
corruptor dance, earth dance mother land
Indonesia, tomorrow we are free
souls surrender to the country, living past history of a period
whose justice, tears and bloods
towards the estuary in the rivers of grief
whose the imperialist, in truth?
Jakarta, August 15 2011
---------------------------------------------
** In order to welcome the Independence Day.
commemorate, but they are not independent
do not know what to eat tomorrow, there is no audible
property, conscience, togetherness, multiculturalism
corruptor dance, earth dance mother land
Indonesia, tomorrow we are free
souls surrender to the country, living past history of a period
whose justice, tears and bloods
towards the estuary in the rivers of grief
whose the imperialist, in truth?
Jakarta, August 15 2011
---------------------------------------------
** In order to welcome the Independence Day.
Aug 10, 2011
we are in between
By Febby Sahla
there’s no forecast
there’s no virtual
there’s no pause...
all the natural course
all it’s real
perfect flow
like the leaves move in rhythm of the wind
such as the flute is blown by shepherd
rhythmically as the globe motion
and as dusk speckled shade
moist earth instantly
there's we are in between
June 22, 2011
--------------------------------------------
Febby Sahla. Enjoys writing poetry and prose, her works can be found on social media sites. Living in Semarang.
there’s no forecast
there’s no virtual
there’s no pause...
all the natural course
all it’s real
perfect flow
like the leaves move in rhythm of the wind
such as the flute is blown by shepherd
rhythmically as the globe motion
and as dusk speckled shade
moist earth instantly
there's we are in between
June 22, 2011
--------------------------------------------
Febby Sahla. Enjoys writing poetry and prose, her works can be found on social media sites. Living in Semarang.
Aug 5, 2011
your presence
By Pringadi Abdi Surya
jackfruit tree leaves are dark green
some have been studying the color of the sun
light shade at two o'clock in the morning
I catch and trap in the pocket
You're there to learn to spell of the temple grass
passionate pursuit of the first dew
in my chest, a rat is also making a nest
closely compete with your presence
----------------------------------------
Pringadi Abdi Surya. A writer and poet. His works are scattered in various media. Living in Jakarta.
jackfruit tree leaves are dark green
some have been studying the color of the sun
light shade at two o'clock in the morning
I catch and trap in the pocket
You're there to learn to spell of the temple grass
passionate pursuit of the first dew
in my chest, a rat is also making a nest
closely compete with your presence
----------------------------------------
Pringadi Abdi Surya. A writer and poet. His works are scattered in various media. Living in Jakarta.
Jul 30, 2011
my eye tears
By Shinta Miranda
i've entrusted my tears, Ma
yesterday was poured
lasting from a pitcher
the color is clear like glass
scintillation light will you see, Ma
today they are flying
of an eternal city toward yourself
lovers love the color red
the distance is thousands of leaves in the wind
thousands of time is the pebble gravel cold night
you still have time to hear from me later
from the eyes of your water that has become my tears, Ma
Jakarta, June 16, 2011
---------------------------------------------
Shinta Miranda. Woman's poet, her works found in many social media sites. Living in Jakarta.
i've entrusted my tears, Ma
yesterday was poured
lasting from a pitcher
the color is clear like glass
scintillation light will you see, Ma
today they are flying
of an eternal city toward yourself
lovers love the color red
the distance is thousands of leaves in the wind
thousands of time is the pebble gravel cold night
you still have time to hear from me later
from the eyes of your water that has become my tears, Ma
Jakarta, June 16, 2011
---------------------------------------------
Shinta Miranda. Woman's poet, her works found in many social media sites. Living in Jakarta.
Jul 25, 2011
Light
By Sitok Srengenge
For you perhaps my attended just fictitious, though I’m not far from you
I dwell inside, is like a fire that animates the furnace
For you can be anything you want, I hope you did not hesitate my attend
I glory in the heart, in thought I was intelligent, in a follow-me beauty
I'm pointing the way, my spark of hope. Uncover the veil of knowledge,
explain my understanding. Relieve my footsteps to freedom
I'm light, making it a virtual muddy, give love
True light radiating from within
Bright light outside only faint reflections
If your eyes closed universe dark
Undoubtedly an expert body when the light goes out
May 26, 2011
------------------------------------
Sitok Srengenge. The famous poets. Live in Jakarta.
For you perhaps my attended just fictitious, though I’m not far from you
I dwell inside, is like a fire that animates the furnace
For you can be anything you want, I hope you did not hesitate my attend
Every time I watch outstretched wings that overlay an area of the universe
Translucent hands touching objects so bright
Despite the love, hate and lies, always as ephemeral mirage
I glory in the heart, in thought I was intelligent, in a follow-me beauty
I'm pointing the way, my spark of hope. Uncover the veil of knowledge,
explain my understanding. Relieve my footsteps to freedom
I'm light, making it a virtual muddy, give love
I was the rainy season, weeping bitterly begging sun series
I weather the night, the moon shined bright for the clamp
Shoots like a yearning, I swerved to reach you in vain
Flattery the body, snap soul, until one day I was devastated after dusk
True light radiating from within
Bright light outside only faint reflections
If your eyes closed universe dark
Undoubtedly an expert body when the light goes out
May 26, 2011
------------------------------------
Sitok Srengenge. The famous poets. Live in Jakarta.
Jul 20, 2011
Yesterday
By Kembara Gelungan Hitam
land never revenge on a wave
faithful to steal the edge
none a second occurred to collect
of understanding to the uterus
because all just the while
there is no eternal in the grain of sand
mud contaminated, until
white makes it gray
love and hate
like a thin fog which arrives
cool left in the air
winds off the coast of the children playing
with the joy of his childhood
; like yesterday
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
--------------------------------------------------
Kembara Gelungan Hitam. Woman poets, often wrote poems and prose writings. Very productive in the work. Living in Cikarang.
land never revenge on a wave
faithful to steal the edge
none a second occurred to collect
of understanding to the uterus
because all just the while
there is no eternal in the grain of sand
mud contaminated, until
white makes it gray
love and hate
like a thin fog which arrives
cool left in the air
winds off the coast of the children playing
with the joy of his childhood
; like yesterday
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
--------------------------------------------------
Kembara Gelungan Hitam. Woman poets, often wrote poems and prose writings. Very productive in the work. Living in Cikarang.
Jul 15, 2011
In a City
By Nona G Muchtar
O come
give me a poem
tonight my longing to be mist
gathered outside the hotel window
in a city,
Makassar, June 2010
---------------
The tree and hibiscus
I walk between longing and loneliness creeps,
makes the shadows of the face is not perfect time for me to stop by
then again I let the trees and hibiscus growing in my chest...
Bintaro, 2010
------------------------------------
Nona G Muctar. The woman poets, live in Makassar.
Note: Hibiscus flower - bunga kembang sepatu
O come
give me a poem
tonight my longing to be mist
gathered outside the hotel window
in a city,
Makassar, June 2010
---------------
The tree and hibiscusI walk between longing and loneliness creeps,
makes the shadows of the face is not perfect time for me to stop by
then again I let the trees and hibiscus growing in my chest...
Bintaro, 2010
------------------------------------
Nona G Muctar. The woman poets, live in Makassar.
Note: Hibiscus flower - bunga kembang sepatu
Jul 10, 2011
back to this red light
By Sofyan Adrimen
there is a lump of meat wrapped heart of the sun burned
melted in the black asphalt, heat the remaining coins to accumulate points
his body became disabled in embedded fate
but her eyes were deriding the palm of his hand,
like a condemned man who threw the coins that collected
little girl burst offers dim moon in her eyes
bud poked a note of the sentence and I look in her eyes
such as finding roots for the sake of uric by uric dismantle drug
and I found a handful of the word bitch
who are still learning to uric
on it full of black clouds altercation
Semarang, June 22, 2011
-------------------------------------------------
Sofyan Adrimen. A poets. Live in Semarang. His work can be found on social media sites.
there is a lump of meat wrapped heart of the sun burned
melted in the black asphalt, heat the remaining coins to accumulate points
his body became disabled in embedded fate
but her eyes were deriding the palm of his hand,
like a condemned man who threw the coins that collected
little girl burst offers dim moon in her eyes
bud poked a note of the sentence and I look in her eyes
such as finding roots for the sake of uric by uric dismantle drug
and I found a handful of the word bitch
who are still learning to uric
on it full of black clouds altercation
Semarang, June 22, 2011
-------------------------------------------------
Sofyan Adrimen. A poets. Live in Semarang. His work can be found on social media sites.
Jul 5, 2011
There Animals At Your Tongue
By Ishtar Maryam
What it was growing on your tongue, sir?
he that spread and never forget you feed poison
It is a poison that would kill me if I was not careful when
flirt with you
Let's breed all sorts of animals such as yours
wife's yours is mine, yours and mine
bred in our tongue
the tongue is full of the fetus could
- Dining table, June 28, 2011
------------------------------------------
Ishtar Maryam. Enjoys writing and her works can be found in the mass media and social media sites. Living in Bandung.
What it was growing on your tongue, sir?he that spread and never forget you feed poison
It is a poison that would kill me if I was not careful when
flirt with you
Let's breed all sorts of animals such as yours
wife's yours is mine, yours and mine
bred in our tongue
the tongue is full of the fetus could
- Dining table, June 28, 2011
------------------------------------------
Ishtar Maryam. Enjoys writing and her works can be found in the mass media and social media sites. Living in Bandung.
Jun 30, 2011
Mother and salted fish bites
By Febby Sahla
It's about the lights of the capital that we see see her twinkling. Children without protection when held in the motherland and limp without a power vacuum when cold infiltrates the soul.
Their face was so pale that no trace of a smile. Meretricious whatever dogma is so strong hit, already decaying wisdom merged in order that increasingly destroyed.
But, while enjoying the salty fish are served, my face never lost. The look on a map of every field that love I made sure never worn even more inflamed liver.
Mother looked dazed and disheveled in a face-to-lip quiver.
Mother was a fierce thunderstorm, which delivers only have pity.
Although not so tough now, a simple prayer songs remain on the sidelines of the lake was stagnant, and love is not pinned to imagine.
This last mouthful of salted fish and rice that cools...
If no box is left later or deposits that do not live in fear, Mother's testament containers and lids of gratitude in the man of submission. Not worth it... but not difficult when you put it at the heart box and every time you open the lesson again.
{From the street on the way to learn to map any crumbs into learning}
Semarang, February 23, 2011
-------------------------------------------------- -----
Febby Sahla. Writes frequently on social networking sites. Her works can be found there. Living in Semarang.
about mother and child on the archipelago over there
It's about the lights of the capital that we see see her twinkling. Children without protection when held in the motherland and limp without a power vacuum when cold infiltrates the soul.
Their face was so pale that no trace of a smile. Meretricious whatever dogma is so strong hit, already decaying wisdom merged in order that increasingly destroyed.But, while enjoying the salty fish are served, my face never lost. The look on a map of every field that love I made sure never worn even more inflamed liver.
Son, Mother's not cracked... stay with you looking at, as each mouthful of salted fish trays too slowly, enjoy every chew's, was no less grateful for every crumb in an... I gently wipe the water pooled in the bitterness. Whatever sustenance served us right now.
Mother looked dazed and disheveled in a face-to-lip quiver.
Mother was a fierce thunderstorm, which delivers only have pity.
Although not so tough now, a simple prayer songs remain on the sidelines of the lake was stagnant, and love is not pinned to imagine.
This last mouthful of salted fish and rice that cools...
If no box is left later or deposits that do not live in fear, Mother's testament containers and lids of gratitude in the man of submission. Not worth it... but not difficult when you put it at the heart box and every time you open the lesson again.
{From the street on the way to learn to map any crumbs into learning}
Semarang, February 23, 2011
-------------------------------------------------- -----
Febby Sahla. Writes frequently on social networking sites. Her works can be found there. Living in Semarang.
Jun 25, 2011
Read it fears
By Malika Hasan
For him, every day is rainy
Who nailed the earth with fears
Song of the mountain, the vibration of trees, plants whisper
Is torture
Somehow he soak the sand with the sun
The sea behind the hills, groaned, and then die
White-backed fish, slanted eyes
Poking the boat looked lost, his mouth locked
Similar statues mossy, frozen Prophets
Perhaps in this life, travel time not as blue as Lake Sentani
Feels more lonely bitter gall, from the death of seals on a raft
Skin smashed
Just like an elegy:
The days were so faithful, waiting for the witch offer sunflower seeds
Then caress ash and dust settled on his self-
Does not he realize?
This is the month of May tearful drizzle
Hordes of middle-aged men want to return to the womb of the mother
"There is no sadness there, the place is paradise!"
From a distance, the sound of black hawk down sobbing at the foot of the old gods
Drifting without form, unable to rotate the earth
Everything becomes fears in his own mind
And he, silent in the noise passion
Sensing her figure filled with beetles, brown and red
Instantly silent sea,
Many thousands of flying fish to hide, like the waves of calm into the mist
He was rushed to weigh a handful of heart, oh like myself
The man with the clay body, sculpted on mangrove roots
Without a voice...
Surabaya, June 2011
----------------------------------------------
Malika Hasan. Woman poet with a straightforward poems and works well as an entrepreneur. Living in Surabaya.
For him, every day is rainy
Who nailed the earth with fears
Song of the mountain, the vibration of trees, plants whisper
Is torture
Somehow he soak the sand with the sun
The sea behind the hills, groaned, and then die
White-backed fish, slanted eyes
Poking the boat looked lost, his mouth locked
Similar statues mossy, frozen Prophets
Perhaps in this life, travel time not as blue as Lake Sentani
Feels more lonely bitter gall, from the death of seals on a raft
Skin smashed
Just like an elegy:
A young fisherman rusty ribs
A grain of salt helpless in the stomach is full of fire
Witnessing his father's eyes glittered
Wives claim to love children
But the plant thorns, deceptive web of its own
The days were so faithful, waiting for the witch offer sunflower seeds
Then caress ash and dust settled on his self-
Does not he realize?
This is the month of May tearful drizzle
Hordes of middle-aged men want to return to the womb of the mother
"There is no sadness there, the place is paradise!"
From a distance, the sound of black hawk down sobbing at the foot of the old gods
Drifting without form, unable to rotate the earth
Everything becomes fears in his own mind
And he, silent in the noise passion
Sensing her figure filled with beetles, brown and red
Instantly silent sea,
Many thousands of flying fish to hide, like the waves of calm into the mist
He was rushed to weigh a handful of heart, oh like myself
The man with the clay body, sculpted on mangrove roots
Without a voice...
Surabaya, June 2011
----------------------------------------------
Malika Hasan. Woman poet with a straightforward poems and works well as an entrepreneur. Living in Surabaya.
Jun 20, 2011
All The Time
By Susy Ayu
you're my fuel barge
you jail me at your altar
my longing rose into the sky
as the prayer paper ash
when i'm drunk your incense
would you still accuse me cold and frozen?
while I waited eternal
i miss dying
frozen into a statue
in your temples
June 18, 2011
-----------------------------------------
Susy Ayu. She is a woman poet. Her works are scattered in various media. Her last work "Merapi Gugat". She lives in Bekasi, West Java.
you're my fuel barge
you jail me at your altar
my longing rose into the sky
as the prayer paper ash
when i'm drunk your incense
would you still accuse me cold and frozen?
while I waited eternal
i miss dying
frozen into a statue
in your temples
June 18, 2011
-----------------------------------------
Susy Ayu. She is a woman poet. Her works are scattered in various media. Her last work "Merapi Gugat". She lives in Bekasi, West Java.
Jun 15, 2011
Look in the Full Moon Eyes of Ima
By Skylashtar Maryam
I'm looking for full days behind the eyes, Ima
had embeddable night, possibly abducted and missing rain
which clearly did not find any single fluorescent light in between the eyebrows and cheek
smooth cheek, which was always making out that red
full now sow drops
while the stalk was not one star that I could reap
not from the quivering lips
not from your breasts are blooming
will keep looking for that full moon, Ima
probably not above your belly,
not inside your warm womb
especially to your eyes...
June 9, 2011
--------------------------------------
Skylashtar Maryam. Often writing in various media. Living in Bandung.
I'm looking for full days behind the eyes, Ima
had embeddable night, possibly abducted and missing rain
which clearly did not find any single fluorescent light in between the eyebrows and cheek
smooth cheek, which was always making out that red
full now sow drops
while the stalk was not one star that I could reap
not from the quivering lips
not from your breasts are blooming
will keep looking for that full moon, Ima
probably not above your belly,
not inside your warm womb
especially to your eyes...
June 9, 2011
--------------------------------------
Skylashtar Maryam. Often writing in various media. Living in Bandung.
Jun 10, 2011
Back Home
By Mayoko Aiko
Here
Among the pieces of the past
Scattered in the wall of my house
And I want to fall asleep,
Although I do not fully asleep
But I'm comfortable here
In this house
Go home
And let the relief came over
Leaving cloudy and gray clouds
Port combing liver
Dim but surely!
And the little boat that was to take me!
Here:
In this house!
----------------------------
Mayoko Aiko. He is a writer of short stories and novels. One of his novel is "Diantara Dua Lelaki" - Between Two Men. His latest novel in cooperation with Reni Teratai Air and Putra Gara, "Dua Sisi Susi", a historical novel background of Tunggul Ametung.
Here
Among the pieces of the past
Scattered in the wall of my house
And I want to fall asleep,
Although I do not fully asleep
But I'm comfortable here
In this house
Go home
And let the relief came over
Leaving cloudy and gray clouds
Port combing liver
Dim but surely!
And the little boat that was to take me!
Here:
In this house!
----------------------------
Mayoko Aiko. He is a writer of short stories and novels. One of his novel is "Diantara Dua Lelaki" - Between Two Men. His latest novel in cooperation with Reni Teratai Air and Putra Gara, "Dua Sisi Susi", a historical novel background of Tunggul Ametung.
Jun 5, 2011
Wet
By Hana Aina
This afternoon
high clouds in the sky
reminds me of sprinkling of snow
when cold pierced bone, petrified
you serve in a cloud of warmth affection
ah, the pitcher was still there
that drain into my cup of tea tasty
I waited, the sweetness back
gulped esophagus
:wet
-----------------------
Hana Aina. The young girl, who loved poetry. She often wrote poems on social networking sites facebook.
This afternoon
high clouds in the sky
reminds me of sprinkling of snow
when cold pierced bone, petrified
you serve in a cloud of warmth affection
ah, the pitcher was still there
that drain into my cup of tea tasty
I waited, the sweetness back
gulped esophagus
:wet
-----------------------
Hana Aina. The young girl, who loved poetry. She often wrote poems on social networking sites facebook.
May 31, 2011
Ode to Sunset
By Dalasari Pera
twilight none other than the closet, its contents form a pile of taste and memories of the folded so neatly. occasionally open it then open it also folds, sometimes worn on the body and then fold it back. also occasionally make it just looked blank and izrael for our scripts.
at other times, dusk to table the busiest ever find. thousands of appointments lined up there, the stories accumulate mutual joys and sorrows. childhood fairy tales were leaping into the chest when the drizzle became the most expensive toys that go with you. legend or romance that spilled from the poet arrays when the occasional rainbow arched like a hug.
Belawa, Makassar, February 11 2011
-------------------------------------------------------
Dalasari Pera. Often write poetry, especially in the social network site, facebook. Working in the Education Office, Makassar.
twilight none other than the closet, its contents form a pile of taste and memories of the folded so neatly. occasionally open it then open it also folds, sometimes worn on the body and then fold it back. also occasionally make it just looked blank and izrael for our scripts.
at other times, dusk to table the busiest ever find. thousands of appointments lined up there, the stories accumulate mutual joys and sorrows. childhood fairy tales were leaping into the chest when the drizzle became the most expensive toys that go with you. legend or romance that spilled from the poet arrays when the occasional rainbow arched like a hug.
Belawa, Makassar, February 11 2011
-------------------------------------------------------
Dalasari Pera. Often write poetry, especially in the social network site, facebook. Working in the Education Office, Makassar.
May 26, 2011
Freedom
By Sofyan Adrimen
there are streaks of gold lodged in a wing night
provide bright light, radiating beacon of reason grilling
petals grabbed furiously,
on the days that fade
gold ribbon of the time
slogans strung from the bitterness
heirs of the slave civilization
freedom
Semarang, 25 Mei 2011
-----------------------------------------------------
Sofyan Adrimen. The poet and his works are spread on the social networking site facebook. Living in Semarang.
there are streaks of gold lodged in a wing night
provide bright light, radiating beacon of reason grilling
petals grabbed furiously,
on the days that fade
gold ribbon of the time
slogans strung from the bitterness
heirs of the slave civilization
freedom
Semarang, 25 Mei 2011
-----------------------------------------------------
Sofyan Adrimen. The poet and his works are spread on the social networking site facebook. Living in Semarang.
May 21, 2011
Corpse Fuel Hoarders
By Irfan Firnanda
After observing silent, he finally sprayed his body with kerosene, diesel, and gasoline and then set fire to himself, beginning from the end of the hair.
May 19, 2011
------------------------------------
Irfan Firnanda. Often writing poetry. His works are widely spread on social networking sites. Living in Jakarta.
After observing silent, he finally sprayed his body with kerosene, diesel, and gasoline and then set fire to himself, beginning from the end of the hair.
May 19, 2011
------------------------------------
Irfan Firnanda. Often writing poetry. His works are widely spread on social networking sites. Living in Jakarta.
May 16, 2011
Tailor Fate Author
By Kurniawan Junaedhie
When about to write a poem, the author is desperate because they do not have the letter A. When the letter A was found, he even wanted to write short stories. Feeling damn, she decided to write flash fiction a totally free of the letter A. Since then he lived happily.
May 2011
--------------------------------------
Kurniawan Junaedhi. A lot of writing and his works scattered in various media.
When about to write a poem, the author is desperate because they do not have the letter A. When the letter A was found, he even wanted to write short stories. Feeling damn, she decided to write flash fiction a totally free of the letter A. Since then he lived happily.
May 2011
--------------------------------------
Kurniawan Junaedhi. A lot of writing and his works scattered in various media.
May 11, 2011
At a time in the Temple of MA ZU
By Susy Ayu
561 years of immortality
My love strong pervasive
The oldest temple in teak pole
upright facing the sky the land of Java
When the wind was restless face
I have entrusted us the names of
in the procession golden kio
gracefully through the gates of Ma Zu
Lasem, April 2011
-------------------------------------------------
Susy Ayu. Female poet, her books can be obtained at various bookstores, the last "Merapi Gugat".
561 years of immortality
My love strong pervasive
The oldest temple in teak pole
upright facing the sky the land of Java
When the wind was restless face
I have entrusted us the names of
in the procession golden kio
gracefully through the gates of Ma Zu
Lasem, April 2011
-------------------------------------------------
Susy Ayu. Female poet, her books can be obtained at various bookstores, the last "Merapi Gugat".
May 6, 2011
To All Wishes
By Frischa Aswarini
If only
Calendars do not have a name day
Maybe the trees will not know
A leaf has fallen
down this road
When the scorching days
Touching the tip of the wet, on
boys hair roadside
In the deserted park
Little girl dancing, the empty flowers
Her eyes dent a river
which often became his dream
Glass slipper, glass cans, or the sky pink,
words like
While the firefly
Seeing the light, in twigs melancholy
Playing the yellow lights
between the glasses of beer
with the gratuitous jokes or laugh
Maybe someday wings
Hurry silent
When the tinkling sound
rolling, so the beer foam
futile
And if it does not have a name day calendar
Maybe there was someone
Calling us at the end of the curve
Bringing the day more than day
A piece of light blue ice cream, and flowers
to park empty
for each person
To all want
Green trees
And small cans
Everything is not
When no longer the name of the day
For later
Perhaps no kisses or blankets to sleep
To us
----------------------------------
Frischa Aswarini. Born in Denpasar October 17, 1991. Student Science History, University of Udayana. Active in Community Sahaja, a group of literary studies and creative writing in Bali. Winner of the best two poetry writing contest South to South Film Festival Nasional, had time to read poetry in front of President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono.
If only
Calendars do not have a name day
Maybe the trees will not know
A leaf has fallen
down this road
When the scorching days
Touching the tip of the wet, on
boys hair roadside
In the deserted park
Little girl dancing, the empty flowers
Her eyes dent a river
which often became his dream
Glass slipper, glass cans, or the sky pink,
words like
While the firefly
Seeing the light, in twigs melancholy
Playing the yellow lights
between the glasses of beer
with the gratuitous jokes or laugh
Maybe someday wings
Hurry silent
When the tinkling sound
rolling, so the beer foam
futile
And if it does not have a name day calendar
Maybe there was someone
Calling us at the end of the curve
Bringing the day more than day
A piece of light blue ice cream, and flowers
to park empty
for each person
To all want
Green trees
And small cans
Everything is not
When no longer the name of the day
For later
Perhaps no kisses or blankets to sleep
To us
----------------------------------
Frischa Aswarini. Born in Denpasar October 17, 1991. Student Science History, University of Udayana. Active in Community Sahaja, a group of literary studies and creative writing in Bali. Winner of the best two poetry writing contest South to South Film Festival Nasional, had time to read poetry in front of President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono.
May 1, 2011
Cyber Love
By Lin S Zhang
Cyber Love.. Ensnare Two Lives
Love arrows lovebirds
Will not forget the Real World
Will We Destined To Meet
Only Time Is Turning
As Silent Witness Our Love Story
Eternal Embedded In Unforgettable Memories
Surabaya, 29 April 2011
--------------------------------------------------
Lin S Zhang. Students majoring in Literature. Living in Surabaya. Some of his works can be found on social networking sites facebook.
Cyber Love.. Ensnare Two Lives
Love arrows lovebirds
Will not forget the Real World
Will We Destined To Meet
Only Time Is Turning
As Silent Witness Our Love Story
Eternal Embedded In Unforgettable Memories
Surabaya, 29 April 2011
--------------------------------------------------
Lin S Zhang. Students majoring in Literature. Living in Surabaya. Some of his works can be found on social networking sites facebook.
Apr 26, 2011
Face
I saw you running
only a glimpse, somewhere
between being and not, almost no
a woman, who wants met
just a face
I did not want to remember anymore
Jakarta, 25 April 2011
-----------------------------------------------
only a glimpse, somewhere
between being and not, almost no
a woman, who wants met
just a face
I did not want to remember anymore
Jakarta, 25 April 2011
-----------------------------------------------
Apr 21, 2011
Alienation
By Ira Ginda
is the understanding of autism, to find and understand, how life should be addressed, although more time can not stop stealing sly, sneak up to the pores, pierced heart that no matter memories
so I'm looking for you, among the possibilities offered by the trip, because the weather will make recalcitrant pain we are ancient with an adult swing sun,
drizzle dripping, shivering like her the most fog dew, fallen leaves wake when dawn, then we enjoy the clay as a deduction restless pain of wisdom
is the nature of silent reading time I can not feel dark and light, and then blame the fact as a justification, we get drunk and crazy and perish perfect time to laugh pierced
February 16, 2011
----------------------------------------------
Ira Ginda. Active in various arts events, his works are scattered in the social networking site. Living in Cikarang.
is the understanding of autism, to find and understand, how life should be addressed, although more time can not stop stealing sly, sneak up to the pores, pierced heart that no matter memories
so I'm looking for you, among the possibilities offered by the trip, because the weather will make recalcitrant pain we are ancient with an adult swing sun,
drizzle dripping, shivering like her the most fog dew, fallen leaves wake when dawn, then we enjoy the clay as a deduction restless pain of wisdom
is the nature of silent reading time I can not feel dark and light, and then blame the fact as a justification, we get drunk and crazy and perish perfect time to laugh pierced
February 16, 2011
----------------------------------------------
Ira Ginda. Active in various arts events, his works are scattered in the social networking site. Living in Cikarang.
Apr 16, 2011
Seakan
By Aisyah Az ZahRa
Seakan tak mengerti..
seakan tak memahami..
seakan tak dihargai..
kau seakan palsu..
16 April 2011
----------------------------------
Aisyah Az ZahRa. Sering menulis sajak di situs jejaring sosial.
Seakan tak mengerti..
seakan tak memahami..
seakan tak dihargai..
kau seakan palsu..
16 April 2011
----------------------------------
Aisyah Az ZahRa. Sering menulis sajak di situs jejaring sosial.
Apr 11, 2011
ketika mencintai
By Dian Aza
Ketika mencintai seseorang, seperti kau kucintai. Benar kau, meski tak sempurna kata, kacau balau rasa, ketika mencintai seseorang seperti kau, aku menggenggam dunia. Menjadi buta, menjadi tuli, menjadi lumpuh, akhirnya mati, menjadi abadi.
Ketika mencintai, seseorang seperti kau, mestinya aku tak punya lidah, tak punya mata, tak punya tangan. Biar tak perlu kaudengar, kaulihat, dan kaubaca. Aku memandangmu berjalan mencari bunga matahari yang kutanam di langit pagi.
Aku menunggumu datang dan berkata,”Betapa buruk caraku menulis puisi.” Ketika mencintai seseorang seperti kucintai kau, biar puisi menuliskan dirinya sendiri, aku hanya tahu mencintai*
8 April 2011
----------------------------------------------
Dian Aza. Sering menulis sajak, banyak tersebar di situs jejaring sosial facebook. Tinggal di Jakarta.
Ketika mencintai seseorang, seperti kau kucintai. Benar kau, meski tak sempurna kata, kacau balau rasa, ketika mencintai seseorang seperti kau, aku menggenggam dunia. Menjadi buta, menjadi tuli, menjadi lumpuh, akhirnya mati, menjadi abadi.
Ketika mencintai, seseorang seperti kau, mestinya aku tak punya lidah, tak punya mata, tak punya tangan. Biar tak perlu kaudengar, kaulihat, dan kaubaca. Aku memandangmu berjalan mencari bunga matahari yang kutanam di langit pagi.
Aku menunggumu datang dan berkata,”Betapa buruk caraku menulis puisi.” Ketika mencintai seseorang seperti kucintai kau, biar puisi menuliskan dirinya sendiri, aku hanya tahu mencintai*
8 April 2011
----------------------------------------------
Dian Aza. Sering menulis sajak, banyak tersebar di situs jejaring sosial facebook. Tinggal di Jakarta.
Apr 6, 2011
Airmata
By Bening Rri
Ketika airmataku menangis,
ketika tangis tangis berbicara panjang,
terus menerus
meremas hatimu,
merebahi dadamu,
menetesi jiwamu,
lenganmu,
jari jemarimu
bahkan di atas airmatamu...
Mungkin itulah kebahagiaan,
karena tangis tangisku adalah bayangan di cermin,
adalah itu adanya,
adalah kejujuran..!
---------------
Bening Rri. Tinggal di Sumbawa. Penyiar radio.
Ketika airmataku menangis,
ketika tangis tangis berbicara panjang,
terus menerus
meremas hatimu,
merebahi dadamu,
menetesi jiwamu,
lenganmu,
jari jemarimu
bahkan di atas airmatamu...
Mungkin itulah kebahagiaan,
karena tangis tangisku adalah bayangan di cermin,
adalah itu adanya,
adalah kejujuran..!
---------------
Bening Rri. Tinggal di Sumbawa. Penyiar radio.
Apr 1, 2011
Wasted
By Dalasari Pera
Future has arrived
Self transfer to waste
Lose increasingly fall
Peak aborted
Fall in calendar
Perverted tales dashed
Explore every inch of the corridor
was because the wound
After a pair of eyes changing sea
Welcomes frantic deliver fear
Belawa, March 28, 2011
-------------------------------------------------
Dalasari Pera. Living in Belawa, South Sulawesi. His works are widely spread social networking sites.
Future has arrived
Self transfer to waste
Lose increasingly fall
Peak aborted
Fall in calendar
Perverted tales dashed
Explore every inch of the corridor
Whether, where a longerWhile singing the grief
Fairy tales?
Corridor?
was because the wound
It is gray about the causeBecomes a roar that most melancholy
Grief was because the wound?
Injury was because the grief?
After a pair of eyes changing sea
Welcomes frantic deliver fear
Belawa, March 28, 2011
-------------------------------------------------
Dalasari Pera. Living in Belawa, South Sulawesi. His works are widely spread social networking sites.
Mar 27, 2011
Negeri Sumbing
By Bening Rri
Negeri tanpa kuping,
Hukumnya sumbing,
Mata keadilannya juling,
Rakyatnya tukang kapling,
Dosa-dosa bunting..!
25 Maret 2011
---------------------------------------
Bening Rri. Tinggal di Sumbawa. Penyiar radio.
Negeri tanpa kuping,
Hukumnya sumbing,
Mata keadilannya juling,
Rakyatnya tukang kapling,
Dosa-dosa bunting..!
25 Maret 2011
---------------------------------------
Bening Rri. Tinggal di Sumbawa. Penyiar radio.
Mar 22, 2011
Mungkin Malaikat Tahu
By Shinta Miranda
Ia tidak bosan ucapkan selamat pagi saat terbangun dari kembara semalam
Tiada mau diingat lagi dimana di atas bumi ruhnya melompat-lompat
Meski sering kali ia terlambat berangkat oleh hidupnya yang tak berharkat
Ketika hari bertambah tua lamanya , cuma satu tanyanya setiap pagi
Apakah ada pembeli sebungkus nasi hari ini untuk ia berangkat lagi
Mungkin malaikat tak pernah tahu, esok pagi ia tak akan kembali lagi ke sini
7 Maret 2011
---------------------------------------
Shinta Miranda. Salah satu dari beberapa penyair perempuan yang menarik dan produktif. Karya-karyanya banyak ditemui di situs jejaring sosial fb. Karyanya yang lain dapat dibaca pada buku-buku antologi puisinya dengan penyair-penyair perempuan lain.
Ia tidak bosan ucapkan selamat pagi saat terbangun dari kembara semalam
Tiada mau diingat lagi dimana di atas bumi ruhnya melompat-lompat
Meski sering kali ia terlambat berangkat oleh hidupnya yang tak berharkat
Ketika hari bertambah tua lamanya , cuma satu tanyanya setiap pagi
Apakah ada pembeli sebungkus nasi hari ini untuk ia berangkat lagi
Mungkin malaikat tak pernah tahu, esok pagi ia tak akan kembali lagi ke sini
7 Maret 2011
---------------------------------------
Shinta Miranda. Salah satu dari beberapa penyair perempuan yang menarik dan produktif. Karya-karyanya banyak ditemui di situs jejaring sosial fb. Karyanya yang lain dapat dibaca pada buku-buku antologi puisinya dengan penyair-penyair perempuan lain.
Mar 17, 2011
Kepada Seorang Sahabat II
By Ni Nyoman Resini
Karena di dahiku tertulis sejarah yang cemerlang?
aku terlambat memahami rasa pahit yang menjalar di tenggorokanmu
mari ke pusaraku, Ni...kau menggamit bathinku, mengajakku menyusuri lorong kelam dengan sepatuku yang melelahkan
tiga puluh lima tahun engkau dimakamkan pagi bisu,tanpa peringatan apapun,selain gundukan tanah merah dan setangkai mawar ungu
Duwh,warna itu mendadak membuatku sepi paling beku
tak ada lagi adrenalin yang bergolak saat kita berdua menatap foto dengan bingkai emas itu, sungguh tak ada lagi rasa cinta saat kita berdua menatap bola mata maskulin gambar itu
tulisan di dahimu melelahkanku,dan huruf-huruf terutama di jantungmu membuatku mati beku
kemana keindahan yang sering kau lukis pada raut rembulan?
terampas malam terhempas mendung
membadai
kuingin pertemuanku denganmu menyegarkan bunga-bunga yang layu dan membuka pintu hati yang terkunci
yang pergi biarlah pergi
dia tak akan pernah kembali
sudahi perdebatan kita yang selalu berakhir ricuh
engkau dan aku hanya dua kutub yang beda sejarah
----------------
Ni Nyoman Resini. Tinggal di lampung.
Karena di dahiku tertulis sejarah yang cemerlang?
aku terlambat memahami rasa pahit yang menjalar di tenggorokanmu
mari ke pusaraku, Ni...kau menggamit bathinku, mengajakku menyusuri lorong kelam dengan sepatuku yang melelahkan
tiga puluh lima tahun engkau dimakamkan pagi bisu,tanpa peringatan apapun,selain gundukan tanah merah dan setangkai mawar ungu
Duwh,warna itu mendadak membuatku sepi paling beku
tak ada lagi adrenalin yang bergolak saat kita berdua menatap foto dengan bingkai emas itu, sungguh tak ada lagi rasa cinta saat kita berdua menatap bola mata maskulin gambar itu
tulisan di dahimu melelahkanku,dan huruf-huruf terutama di jantungmu membuatku mati beku
kemana keindahan yang sering kau lukis pada raut rembulan?
terampas malam terhempas mendung
membadai
kuingin pertemuanku denganmu menyegarkan bunga-bunga yang layu dan membuka pintu hati yang terkunci
yang pergi biarlah pergi
dia tak akan pernah kembali
sudahi perdebatan kita yang selalu berakhir ricuh
engkau dan aku hanya dua kutub yang beda sejarah
----------------
Ni Nyoman Resini. Tinggal di lampung.
Mar 12, 2011
Nyali...
By Ira Ginda
menuju jantung kota
ada degup yang debarnya sama
di persimpangan rambu tak menyala
pejalan bingung mengatur kakinya..
perempuan hanya berdiam di kiri
saat lelakinya telah mengubur nyali
lidah sepi menjilati knalpot kota
dengan kuasa, memainkan kartu tarotnya
anakanak terduduk lama
menunggu, dipanggil budak oleh ayahnya
mengeja kematian dulu, dengan perulangan ketidakan itu
12 Maret 2011
-----------------------------------------
Ira Ginda. Karya-karyanya yang lain dapat ditemui di situs jejaring sosial. Tinggal di Cikarang, Bekasi.
menuju jantung kota
ada degup yang debarnya sama
di persimpangan rambu tak menyala
pejalan bingung mengatur kakinya..
perempuan hanya berdiam di kiri
saat lelakinya telah mengubur nyali
lidah sepi menjilati knalpot kota
dengan kuasa, memainkan kartu tarotnya
anakanak terduduk lama
menunggu, dipanggil budak oleh ayahnya
mengeja kematian dulu, dengan perulangan ketidakan itu
12 Maret 2011
-----------------------------------------
Ira Ginda. Karya-karyanya yang lain dapat ditemui di situs jejaring sosial. Tinggal di Cikarang, Bekasi.
Mar 6, 2011
Mendung di Dermaga
By Susy Ayu
di dermaga
cuma aku yang menunggumu
pada tiang kapal, angin barat dan perahu-perahu lelah
suaraku serak sempoyongan memanggil
kau tak jua datang
cuma sepi yang berjawaban
menggiring mendung
4 Maret 2011
--------------------------------------
Susy Ayu. Karya-karyanya tersebar di berbagai media. Juga dapat ditemui situs jejaring sosial. Buku antologinya yang terbaru adalah "Merapi Gugat".
di dermaga
cuma aku yang menunggumu
pada tiang kapal, angin barat dan perahu-perahu lelah
suaraku serak sempoyongan memanggil
kau tak jua datang
cuma sepi yang berjawaban
menggiring mendung
4 Maret 2011
--------------------------------------
Susy Ayu. Karya-karyanya tersebar di berbagai media. Juga dapat ditemui situs jejaring sosial. Buku antologinya yang terbaru adalah "Merapi Gugat".
Mar 1, 2011
Kata sebuah Ombak
seperti kata sebuah ombak
aku akan mencapai pantai itu,
tapi disana banyak limbah, sisa-sisa pabrik
kata sebuah ombak lain
aahh... kamu memang begitu
pantai itu tetap pantai,
tak perlu memikirkannya, deburkanlah ombakmu.
28 Februari 2011
------------------------------------------
"tentang rindu"
aku akan mencapai pantai itu,
tapi disana banyak limbah, sisa-sisa pabrik
kata sebuah ombak lain
aahh... kamu memang begitu
pantai itu tetap pantai,
tak perlu memikirkannya, deburkanlah ombakmu.
28 Februari 2011
------------------------------------------
"tentang rindu"
Feb 24, 2011
Bau Kenangan
By Pringadi Abdi Surya
Tidak seperti aku: sebuah ucapan selamat tinggal menyesatkanku
ke arah yang jauh.
Rintik gerimis, gadis berpayung, dan jejak sepeda yang kuhitung
telah membawaku pada kenangan. "Baru saja musim kemarau,"
sambil membaiat ilalang di sudut jauh yang bergoyang-goyang
ditiup angin dari seberang. Rambutku juga berkibar-kibar pelan
membayangkan masa depan antara kau dan aku.
Untuk sebuah alasan, aku perlu, agar rasa sakit ketika kata terima
kasih itu meluncur dari bibirmu. Aku diam. Kau selalu bertanya, "Ada
apa?"
dan aku menggelengkan kepala.
Musim barangkali sudah tak menentu. Gerimis barang tentu sudah
menyampaikan perasaanku. Tetapi,
sudahlah,
masih ada bau parfummu yang tertinggal di hangat sweaterku.
2010
---------------------------------------
Pringadi Abdi Surya. Karya-karyanya dapat ditemui di berbagai media.
Tidak seperti aku: sebuah ucapan selamat tinggal menyesatkanku
ke arah yang jauh.
Rintik gerimis, gadis berpayung, dan jejak sepeda yang kuhitung
telah membawaku pada kenangan. "Baru saja musim kemarau,"
sambil membaiat ilalang di sudut jauh yang bergoyang-goyang
ditiup angin dari seberang. Rambutku juga berkibar-kibar pelan
membayangkan masa depan antara kau dan aku.
Untuk sebuah alasan, aku perlu, agar rasa sakit ketika kata terima
kasih itu meluncur dari bibirmu. Aku diam. Kau selalu bertanya, "Ada
apa?"
dan aku menggelengkan kepala.
Musim barangkali sudah tak menentu. Gerimis barang tentu sudah
menyampaikan perasaanku. Tetapi,
sudahlah,
masih ada bau parfummu yang tertinggal di hangat sweaterku.
2010
---------------------------------------
Pringadi Abdi Surya. Karya-karyanya dapat ditemui di berbagai media.
Feb 19, 2011
Rasa Itu
By Ricardo Marbun
“Tadi aku ketemu cowok itu lagi, Ri..” Suri berkata begitu ceria.
Tadi di dalam kelas sangat tersiksa karena harus bisik – bisik curhat sama Wuri teman dekatnya. Menunggu bell pulang berbunyi minta ampun lamanya, mana jam terakhir bikin bete banget, siapa juga yang peduli ama segala macam... cerita – cerita jaman dulu, lagian kenapa juga pelajaran sejarah di tempatkan pas jam terakhir, siang bolong begini mulut tak terhitung menguap sampai rahang pegel rasanya buka tutup melulu.
“Kamu samperin nggak?” Wuri berjalan agak lambat di tengah gerombolan teman – temannya.
“Itulah kelebihanku, Ri. Aku tak berani menyapanya, malu tau?”
“Doi lagi ngapain waktu kamu lihat?”
Suri senyum – senyum sendiri. Tadi pagi sewaktu berangkat sekolah dia melihat cowok itu, Suri sampai lupa mau melangkah, serasa ada lem merekat erat di bawah sol sepatunya, matanya lurus memandang cowok yang diam – diam telah mencuri perhatiannya. Cowok itu sama sekali tak melihat ke arahnya. Jantung Suri berdenyut lebih kuat merambat hingga ke pipinya yang mulus. Suri hanya mampu memperhatikan kegiatan cowok itu. Dia sedang membersihkan motor, mau persiapan kuliah sepertinya. Ingin lebih lama Suri berdiri memandang dari jauh cowok itu, tapi suara langkah kaki dari dalam rumah membuyarkan keinginan itu, segera dia berjalan tanpa menoleh siapa yang keluar dari dalam rumah. Suri berjalan sambil menundukkan kepalanya dia tak punya nyali melihat lebih dekat cowok itu.
Dari depan gerbang sekolah Suri dan Wuri langsung di samperin kernet – kernet bemo, jam pulang sekolah begini halaman luar sekolah seketika berubah seperti pasar, tak jarang kernet – kernet itu hanya alasan menawarkan bemo padahal mereka punya niat lain, mau pegang – pegang nggak jelas. Untung anak – anak SMP ini pintar menghindar dari sang kernet jail.
“Terus kamu nggak lihat dia dari dekat? Gimana sih, Suri?” Wuri bertanya lagi setelah mereka duduk manis dalam bemo tujuan rumah mereka.
Suri mengelengkan kepalanya. Ikal – ikal rambutnya ikut terayun sewaktu kepalanya menggeleng. Wajah mudanya mulai memancarkan kecantikan gadis belia. Hidungnya yang bangir menyempurnakan wajahnya dengan kata cantik.
“Emang dia cakep ya? Maksud aku mirip siapa gitu?”
“Cakep Ri, wajahnya itu lo lucu banget, ngegemesin. Ada mirip seperti Raffi Ahmad, Ri..”
“Tapi kita kan masih SMP, Suri? Jauh banget ama anak kuliahan? Gimana coba?”
Suri mengamini pernyataan Wuri barusan, dia baru SMP kelas 1, sedang mahluk itu anak kulihan, tapi rasa itu pelan – pelan telah mengetuk serambi hatinya, dia sendiri tidak tahu kenapa rasa itu ada dan kapan datangnya. Yang Suri tahu rasa itu nikmat terasa memenuhi rongga dadanya.
-----------------------------
Ricardo Marbun. Sering menulis cerpen remaja. Karya-karyanya tersebar di beberapa media. Terakhir tampil di majalah D'Sari Edisi 16 Januari - 15 Februari 2011 dan karya-karyanya juga akan banyak ditemui pada majalah teenlit Story edisi mendatang ini.
Catatan: Mohon maaf kepada penulis, Ricardo Marbun atas koreksinya.
“Tadi aku ketemu cowok itu lagi, Ri..” Suri berkata begitu ceria.
Tadi di dalam kelas sangat tersiksa karena harus bisik – bisik curhat sama Wuri teman dekatnya. Menunggu bell pulang berbunyi minta ampun lamanya, mana jam terakhir bikin bete banget, siapa juga yang peduli ama segala macam... cerita – cerita jaman dulu, lagian kenapa juga pelajaran sejarah di tempatkan pas jam terakhir, siang bolong begini mulut tak terhitung menguap sampai rahang pegel rasanya buka tutup melulu.
“Kamu samperin nggak?” Wuri berjalan agak lambat di tengah gerombolan teman – temannya.
“Itulah kelebihanku, Ri. Aku tak berani menyapanya, malu tau?”
“Doi lagi ngapain waktu kamu lihat?”
Suri senyum – senyum sendiri. Tadi pagi sewaktu berangkat sekolah dia melihat cowok itu, Suri sampai lupa mau melangkah, serasa ada lem merekat erat di bawah sol sepatunya, matanya lurus memandang cowok yang diam – diam telah mencuri perhatiannya. Cowok itu sama sekali tak melihat ke arahnya. Jantung Suri berdenyut lebih kuat merambat hingga ke pipinya yang mulus. Suri hanya mampu memperhatikan kegiatan cowok itu. Dia sedang membersihkan motor, mau persiapan kuliah sepertinya. Ingin lebih lama Suri berdiri memandang dari jauh cowok itu, tapi suara langkah kaki dari dalam rumah membuyarkan keinginan itu, segera dia berjalan tanpa menoleh siapa yang keluar dari dalam rumah. Suri berjalan sambil menundukkan kepalanya dia tak punya nyali melihat lebih dekat cowok itu.
Dari depan gerbang sekolah Suri dan Wuri langsung di samperin kernet – kernet bemo, jam pulang sekolah begini halaman luar sekolah seketika berubah seperti pasar, tak jarang kernet – kernet itu hanya alasan menawarkan bemo padahal mereka punya niat lain, mau pegang – pegang nggak jelas. Untung anak – anak SMP ini pintar menghindar dari sang kernet jail.
“Terus kamu nggak lihat dia dari dekat? Gimana sih, Suri?” Wuri bertanya lagi setelah mereka duduk manis dalam bemo tujuan rumah mereka.
Suri mengelengkan kepalanya. Ikal – ikal rambutnya ikut terayun sewaktu kepalanya menggeleng. Wajah mudanya mulai memancarkan kecantikan gadis belia. Hidungnya yang bangir menyempurnakan wajahnya dengan kata cantik.
“Emang dia cakep ya? Maksud aku mirip siapa gitu?”
“Cakep Ri, wajahnya itu lo lucu banget, ngegemesin. Ada mirip seperti Raffi Ahmad, Ri..”
“Tapi kita kan masih SMP, Suri? Jauh banget ama anak kuliahan? Gimana coba?”
Suri mengamini pernyataan Wuri barusan, dia baru SMP kelas 1, sedang mahluk itu anak kulihan, tapi rasa itu pelan – pelan telah mengetuk serambi hatinya, dia sendiri tidak tahu kenapa rasa itu ada dan kapan datangnya. Yang Suri tahu rasa itu nikmat terasa memenuhi rongga dadanya.
-----------------------------
Ricardo Marbun. Sering menulis cerpen remaja. Karya-karyanya tersebar di beberapa media. Terakhir tampil di majalah D'Sari Edisi 16 Januari - 15 Februari 2011 dan karya-karyanya juga akan banyak ditemui pada majalah teenlit Story edisi mendatang ini.
Catatan: Mohon maaf kepada penulis, Ricardo Marbun atas koreksinya.
Feb 14, 2011
Kelembutan Ini
By Susy Ayu
kekasih,
semoga kelembutan selalu kita jaga
sebab tak ada yang kuat selain kelembutan
dan tak ada yang lembut selain kekuatan
13 Februari 2011
------------------------------------------
Susy Ayu. Karya-karya tersebar di berbagai media. Buku antologinya yang terbaru bersama dengan 13 penyair, "Merapi Gugat".
"Happy Valentine's Day, Teman-teman !"
kekasih,
semoga kelembutan selalu kita jaga
sebab tak ada yang kuat selain kelembutan
dan tak ada yang lembut selain kekuatan
13 Februari 2011
------------------------------------------
Susy Ayu. Karya-karya tersebar di berbagai media. Buku antologinya yang terbaru bersama dengan 13 penyair, "Merapi Gugat".
"Happy Valentine's Day, Teman-teman !"
Feb 8, 2011
negeri pluralis yang menuju keretakan
By Reni Teratai Air
bukankah kita telah memilih keyakinan masing-masing
lalu kenapa kau gunakan layarmu untuk mencekik, menyumpal mulut dan menutup mata orang-orang?
lalu kenapa kau lantangkan gema mu sementara kau pecut gema orang-orang lain?
atau telah kau siapkan layarmu untuk mencekik lehermu sendiri?
malangnya kita, berlindung di ketiak seragam yang takut dengan layar
Jakarta, 8 Februari 2011
---------------------------------------------------
Reni Teratai Air. Karya-karyanya dapat ditemui di media massa. Pemimpin Redaksi Majalah Remaja - Teenlit STORY.
bukankah kita telah memilih keyakinan masing-masing
lalu kenapa kau gunakan layarmu untuk mencekik, menyumpal mulut dan menutup mata orang-orang?
lalu kenapa kau lantangkan gema mu sementara kau pecut gema orang-orang lain?
atau telah kau siapkan layarmu untuk mencekik lehermu sendiri?
malangnya kita, berlindung di ketiak seragam yang takut dengan layar
Jakarta, 8 Februari 2011
---------------------------------------------------
Reni Teratai Air. Karya-karyanya dapat ditemui di media massa. Pemimpin Redaksi Majalah Remaja - Teenlit STORY.
Feb 3, 2011
Gong Xi Fat Chai
By Josephine Maria
di luar angan adalah angin dingin
yang berjalan jauh membumbung tembang
petani tionghoa menyusur penanggalan bulan
pada musim semi dengan menggarap harap
hikayat nian datang meradang
di bawah bulan pergantian tahun
berkelebat dari satu pintu ke pintu
mengitari kealpaan suangshi
kelebat menjadi sejarah perayaan perjamuan
semaraknya kembang api memercik sepi
bergelantungan lampion tanpa spion
menghadang nian shou dalam semalam
shishi meraya menuju purnama
shishi. gong xi fat chai
Jakarta, 1 Februari 2011
-----------------------------------------
Josephine Maria. Tinggal di Jakarta. Karya-karyanya banyak tersebar di berbagai media.
- nian: mitos tionghoa berupa raksasa pemangsa segala
- shou: binatang (12 binatang)
- suang shi: kertas merah
- shishi: merahmerah
- gong xi fat chai: selamat dan semoga banyak rejeki (dalam bahasa mandarin)
di luar angan adalah angin dingin
yang berjalan jauh membumbung tembang
petani tionghoa menyusur penanggalan bulan
pada musim semi dengan menggarap harap
hikayat nian datang meradang
di bawah bulan pergantian tahun
berkelebat dari satu pintu ke pintu
mengitari kealpaan suangshi
kelebat menjadi sejarah perayaan perjamuan
semaraknya kembang api memercik sepi
bergelantungan lampion tanpa spion
menghadang nian shou dalam semalam
shishi meraya menuju purnama
shishi. gong xi fat chai
"Selamat Tahun Baru Imlek"
03 Pebruari 2011
untuk saudara dan sahabatku yang merayakannya
Jakarta, 1 Februari 2011
-----------------------------------------
Josephine Maria. Tinggal di Jakarta. Karya-karyanya banyak tersebar di berbagai media.
- nian: mitos tionghoa berupa raksasa pemangsa segala
- shou: binatang (12 binatang)
- suang shi: kertas merah
- shishi: merahmerah
- gong xi fat chai: selamat dan semoga banyak rejeki (dalam bahasa mandarin)
Jan 31, 2011
Pangkal Sangkal
By Josephine Maria
seperti kutukan, sepotong kelamin menikam malam
di lembah rerimbunan kupukupu membentuk oase
memajang molek sepanjang tebing, elok bertaut aurat
ranah yang liar telah membentuk benih aksaraku
yang tercampak dari kitab, mungkin milik para biara
bergelinjangan dalam desahan pasi masturbasi
alpa
aku acap mendengar bibir berkata mengapa
setelah nafsu bersanding kekal dengan kelamin
menjerit dalam sadar dari atas ranjang kawin
lesap
seketika benih dibekukan sperma saat meresap
aku terjaga , takkala orangorang serempak melayat
sembari membungkus kelamin dengan taurat
kupu lembah cukup memandang dari tebing
di kegelapan, semata mata memanjat mimpi
setelah airmatanya terusap oleh pangkal paha
Jakarta, 25 Januari 2011
-------------------------------------------------
Josephine Maria. Karya-karyanya banyak tersebar di berbagai media. Situs blognya dapat di akses di http://joseceritajose.wordpress.com atau karyanya di oase.kompas.com
seperti kutukan, sepotong kelamin menikam malam
di lembah rerimbunan kupukupu membentuk oase
memajang molek sepanjang tebing, elok bertaut aurat
ranah yang liar telah membentuk benih aksaraku
yang tercampak dari kitab, mungkin milik para biara
bergelinjangan dalam desahan pasi masturbasi
alpa
aku acap mendengar bibir berkata mengapa
setelah nafsu bersanding kekal dengan kelamin
menjerit dalam sadar dari atas ranjang kawin
lesap
seketika benih dibekukan sperma saat meresap
aku terjaga , takkala orangorang serempak melayat
sembari membungkus kelamin dengan taurat
kupu lembah cukup memandang dari tebing
di kegelapan, semata mata memanjat mimpi
setelah airmatanya terusap oleh pangkal paha
Jakarta, 25 Januari 2011
-------------------------------------------------
Josephine Maria. Karya-karyanya banyak tersebar di berbagai media. Situs blognya dapat di akses di http://joseceritajose.wordpress.com atau karyanya di oase.kompas.com
Jan 26, 2011
Hujan
By Desiana Siregar
Hujan bagaikan tangisan langit di kaki bumi
Tetesan air yang jatuh semakin deras dari langit membasahi bumi
Aku meringkuk kedinginan di tengah derasnya hujan
Dan bumiku kini sebagian telah banjir
26 Januari 2011
----------------------------------------------
Desiana Siregar. Tinggal di Batam.
Hujan bagaikan tangisan langit di kaki bumi
Tetesan air yang jatuh semakin deras dari langit membasahi bumi
Aku meringkuk kedinginan di tengah derasnya hujan
Dan bumiku kini sebagian telah banjir
26 Januari 2011
----------------------------------------------
Desiana Siregar. Tinggal di Batam.
Jan 21, 2011
Kamu...
By August Suhardono
Aku selalu memikirkan dirimu. Walau kita sudah jarang bertemu, selalu tak ada kesempatan untuk itu.
Hari-hariku selalu membiru, bukan karena aku sedih, bukan.
Tetapi tak ada kesempatan bertemu, kamu
20 januari 2010
-------------------------------------------------
August Suhardono. Karyawan swasta. Tinggal di Kebayoran Baru. Jakarta Selatan.
Aku selalu memikirkan dirimu. Walau kita sudah jarang bertemu, selalu tak ada kesempatan untuk itu.
Hari-hariku selalu membiru, bukan karena aku sedih, bukan.
Tetapi tak ada kesempatan bertemu, kamu
20 januari 2010
-------------------------------------------------
August Suhardono. Karyawan swasta. Tinggal di Kebayoran Baru. Jakarta Selatan.
Jan 16, 2011
sejumput kalimat
By Febby Sahla
aku datang menemu hadirmu dengan sederhana, jadi biarkanlah aku merajah tiap sisi raga bernama rasa dengan pisau cinta dan sayatan sayang dengan perlahan tanpa menanggalkan beban dan kehampaan... rasakanlah perihnya dengan segenap perasaan karena dari setiap tetes darah yang menyerta ku resapkan segenap rasa meski tak sempurna dan hanya sederhana saja, aku dan segalaku sedang menyertamu
16 desember 2010
------------------------------------------
Febby Sahla. Karya-karyanya sangat lembut. Sering menulis di situs jejaring, tinggal di Semarang.
aku datang menemu hadirmu dengan sederhana, jadi biarkanlah aku merajah tiap sisi raga bernama rasa dengan pisau cinta dan sayatan sayang dengan perlahan tanpa menanggalkan beban dan kehampaan... rasakanlah perihnya dengan segenap perasaan karena dari setiap tetes darah yang menyerta ku resapkan segenap rasa meski tak sempurna dan hanya sederhana saja, aku dan segalaku sedang menyertamu
16 desember 2010
------------------------------------------
Febby Sahla. Karya-karyanya sangat lembut. Sering menulis di situs jejaring, tinggal di Semarang.
Jan 11, 2011
bahumu...
ijinkan aku mengatakan sesuatu
ini sensitif
rambutmu sebaiknya digulung ke belakang
tak baik tergerai begitu
seandainya orang tahu
apakah kita, bercinta
tidak
bukan itu
bahumu, oohh...
batas antara kebutuhan lelaki
dan pikiranku
senang rasanya
melihatmu berambut pendek seperti itu,
senyumku
Jakarta, awal Januari 2011
-------------------------------------
ini sensitif
rambutmu sebaiknya digulung ke belakang
tak baik tergerai begitu
seandainya orang tahu
apakah kita, bercinta
tidak
bukan itu
bahumu, oohh...
batas antara kebutuhan lelaki
dan pikiranku
senang rasanya
melihatmu berambut pendek seperti itu,
senyumku
Jakarta, awal Januari 2011
-------------------------------------
Jan 5, 2011
Ketika Kamu Pergi
Ketika kamu pergi,
Aku selalu sedih, memang
Kamu selalu pergi, bila kembali
Kamu selalu pergi
Memang kamu kembali, sebentar
Pergi lagi ke tempat yang jauh dimana aku selalu memikirkannya
Aku selalu sedih, memang
Kamu selalu pergi, bila kembali
Kamu selalu pergi
Memang kamu kembali, sebentar
Pergi lagi ke tempat yang jauh dimana aku selalu memikirkannya
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)