cerita malam.

siang menyapa malam
katanya, ia bosan menjadi terang
malam pun mendengus
gelap tidak punya teman, balasnya.

bagaimana dengan bintang-bintang?

ah, mereka tidak setia.
buktinya hobi mengerlipkan mata dengan genitnya

dan tersihirlah manusia di bawah sana

siang pamit pulang
bersyukur ia benderang

malam kembali diam
bersama tumpukan lelah ia menyelam...

kelakar saja.

dia senang berkelakar soal cinta

tak ada yang tertawa mendengarnya

malah tawanya sendiri yang membelit seperti belukar

sebenar-benarnya dia bukan berkisah tentang canda

dia hanya memupur lara dan rana dengan kerling senja

penawar sengsara

punggungnya berlawanan dengan bahagia

bersender pada derita

ah, cinta..

tak habis kau membuat anak Adam bercerita...

jealousy is a beauty.

she's jealous of the city. the city can bump his elbows, stroke his red hair, and feel his feet walking, touching pavement. she cannot do all those things. she's angry with the tall city buildings, they can reflect his face, cast a shadow upon his golden body, and commanding his jaw to tighten or ask him politely, silently to narrow his eyes to see the top of those arrogant and proud greatest forms of art. and all she can do is wait, impatiently trying to change the pace of her life, a real nuisance. she has been defiled by him, once. now, she's eager for more. she's so close to blowing the city with one giant dynamite in her hand, burning its trees and the birds with borrowed torches, and flooding the buildings so the inhabitants will jump out of the windows like driftwoods falling down by the waterfall. yeah, she's crazy in hatred. not in love. she wants to conquer him, defeat him, pulling the white flag out of his guts. and in the end, she's winning. raising her hands high, touching the air of the city and shout out loud :


"i make the city, the city doesn't make me. and i break you. you, never break me."






061008

on a train.

This morning, on a train back to Jakarta, someone woke me up hastily.. he asked me to help him liberate a woman who’s being possessed by evil. She sat two seats in front of me. “why I?”, I was wondering inwardly. Apparently, all passengers from the same coach as mine assumed that I was a priest. A priest that can get rid of all evil spells. They said, while I was sleeping I constantly mumbled some mantras. Bewildered, I asked again, “what mantra??”. Mantras in unfamiliar language, they answered. “Oh, really?”, I was still confused. “yes, Sir, you kept mumbling one strange line in your sleep”. I guess they clearly misunderstood, I have this old bad habit, talking in sleep, never know to whom. And the ‘mantras’ that they heard was a quote from one poem, it says “love is unhappy when love is away”. It seemed that I had fallen asleep while reading an old book of poems, Chamber Music. I almost bursted laughing, but, looking at their doubtless and hopeful facial expression assuming I was this great priest, I just went silenced. The woman being ‘possessed’ screaming hysterically, calling upon one name “Ezekiel!”, “Ezekiel!”. E-z-e-k-i-e-l ? Who? A lover? A prophet? Or an Angel? Who?

So, I came up to her and whispered to her sweet-smelling ears my ‘mantra’, “miss, love is unhappy when love is away..” three times is charm. I was not sure she could hear me. Suddenly, out of the blue, she stopped screaming and started to cry silently, the tears were color crimson red, but it wasn’t blood. Those were tears. “darn! It’s getting worse”, I jumped in panic. Then, she abruptly grabbed my hands and said to me “Thank you, you really understand what I’ve been feeling, Sir..”. I made a bittersweet smile, not knowing to feel flattered or fully ashamed of my stunt and better to jump out of the train window, while we were still surrounded by paddy fields. I replied by nonsensical words “there’s no wrong in helping other people, even though what I do can still be queried as a good thing or else”. My stop is the next station. The woman had stopped crying, her cheeks rosy pink from the trace of tears running down her face before. The passengers applauded me. I, excused myself to sleep (or pretended to do so) and promised myself secretly that I would never read that poetry book ever again.

**

Winds of May, that dance on the sea,
Dancing a ring-around in glee
From furrow to furrow while overhead
The foam flies up to be garlanded
In silvery arches spanning the air,
Saw you my true love anywhere?
    Welladay, welladay!
    For the winds of May!
Love is unhappy when love is away

James Joyce

200309

surat pendek kepada engkau.

Aji, engkau meminta hukum ditegakkan.
"bunuhlah laki-laki yang bersama laki-laki dan musnahkan perempuan yang bersama dengan perempuan, rajam sesamamu yang berbuat zina."
oh, Aji tercinta,
akan tiba saatnya engkau harus menjadi Ibrahim kepada Ismail.
membunuh anakmu sendiri demi Tuhanmu (yang bisa jadi, bukan Tuhanku juga)
namun bedanya, Ismail dibunuh karena kesuciannya, sedangkan aku?
justru karna kekotoranku.
tidak akan ada domba sial lain yang sudi menggantikanku.
mungkin, lebih baik engkau mulai mengumpulkan batu dan kerikil satu persatu dari sekarang.

salam penuh kasih,
Luh.


070709

Lost n Found.

she walked and skipped, her world was still set against the backdrop of a calm salty afternoon with shy sunlight and colorful houses along the shore. she breezed and bruised easily, she often let herself lost deliberately. she had never wanted to be found, but that day she hoped that someone would find her and take her home. she took photographs using her polaroid camera of almost everything came across her wandering eyes. click, a cat yawning. clack, candy wrappers on the dock that seemingly had been stepped on too many times. she didn't bring with her any books nor ipod to distract her from the outside world, she felt that her mind was already overcrowded with all the poems, quotes and the lyrics. she needed a touch of reality because she'd been away for too long from people with their smiles not just emoticons, their ringing laughter not just 'hahaha' written before her eyes. never she had felt so alone until that very afternoon. she had decided to go to that place because she liked looking at bright colors painted on each one of the houses stood near the pier. the chipped paint made it historical, she thought. being there felt like going back to a century ago although in her mind, everything would look black and white. many strangers, the village fellows she supposed, were greeting her. she tried so hard not to appear lost and clueless though in her heart, she needed a compass and a map so badly it hurt. the sea breeze played with her long brownish hair. the memories of her past love played with her fingers she started to write his name in the sand. then she walked away, knowing that sooner or later the sea would erase it and swallow the sorrow. the night fell, she went to a bar where she heard a loud cheering music from inside. she wanted to be a part of the joyous habit the village had to offer. at least, she could drown so deep in the happiness of others instead in her own imagination. it was midnight, she was still alone, still lost. nobody would take her home. the train would depart in the morning. she got 5 hours to sleep and only one chance to take the last picture on her polaroid. her hands gripped on her flowery skirt. she held her tears back. she bit her lips that smelled like cherry. it was sweet. but kisses had always been sweeter, she'd recall. she shrugged as if surrendering to the fact that she was alone and made peace with it. she took out her camera out of the pocket. brushed her hair with her fingers, tidied up her messy bangs, corrected her awkward smile. she took a photograph of herself then left the picture on the table. symbolic way to leave her memories behind. she paid the drinks and left the bar. she almost bumped into a guy on the way out. she was too busy with her newfound feeling she didn't notice the smile on the guy's face. he chose to sit at the table which she had occupied before. he saw the deserted picture on the table. he lifted it and studied her smile for a while. he realized it was the girl he saw when he entered the bar. unhesitatingly, still holding the polaroid, he stormed out of the bar to chase her. 

would she be found? or would she still be lost? did she still feel the need of being found?

"But can't you see i'm lovesick?
I need a cure so bring it real quick
This time i'm fearing heartbreak
Look at the time it's almost daybreak
Oh i don't want to settle down
I don't want to leave this town
I'm feeling lost and found
Am i wild, wild, wild, wild, wild?"- Taken By Trees.

101110

Marionet

Di panggung mini berlatar pepohonan kala malam hari, Marionet melompat lincah kesana kemari, menarikan ballet yang mirip danau angsa. Pasangannya, sesosok pangeran buatan bertubuh gempal dengan rambut palsu putih mengilat yang malah menyerupai uban terlalu sering diminyaki. Mereka menari berdua, diharuskan saling berkasih dalam cerita sampai pagi. Takdirnya bukan dipilihnya, sejak tercipta ia terikat suratan yang dijalin ke dalam seutas tali masing-masing untuk kedua kaki dan tangannya. Marionet wajib takluk pada si pangeran sesuai titah sang dalang. Namun, perasaan terkadang membelot dari segala aturan dan norma. Ia kadung jatuh cinta pada sang dalang dari awal ia diciptakan, tanpa pernah tahu ia akan dimatikan di akhir cerita. Pangeran menepis pundi kecil isi racun dari tepi bibir Marionet. Terlambat, cairan laknat itu telah memulai petualangannya dalam tubuh ringkih Marionet, membakari isinya. Hatinya pun ikut hangus. Pangeran menangis geram sembari mengutuki sang dalang, berharap mereka berganti tempat agar bisa membalaskan dendam. Marionet hanya tersenyum terbujur kaku. Rela diambil nyawanya demi riuhnya tepukan tangan yang diperuntukkan bagi lelaki yang ia cintai.

Toh ia akan hidup lagi saat panggung mini kembali digelar. 

*Oh iya, nama Marionet itu "Weronika", tapi dia akan menengok juga semisal dipanggil "Véronique". Foto dari sini. (Tuan Kieślowski, terima kasih).

190510