about my poems...

Body memory

When we remember things, it is not only imprinted in our brain.

Our body, you see, can also remember things just as good as our brain, 

and sometimes, our brain is more terrible at it than our body is.

I started play rubix when I was in high school. My classmate taught me how to solve it. Right-up-right prime-up-right-up-up-right prime. At this point, I knew how to solve it up to the top layer. "It wasn't that hard," I said. She smiled and said, "Now, only the last two steps left." Right prime-front-right prime-back-back-right-front prime-right prime-back-back-right-right. And I was lost, so she told me to mirror her movement. But the bell rang and I didn't finish learning it. That week, I had to move out from the school and the city before I could memorize how to solve it. 

Seven years later, I got a job that required me to move back to the city. The city that I had always missed and dreamed to live in again. But even until now, my brain still confuses itself that when I wake up and I look at my the ceiling, I find myself gasping, wondering just where the hell I am.

One day, I see a rubix on a bookshelf in my office. And to be completely honest, I forgot how to solve it. However, once I get my hands on it, my fingers, they just recognize which part should I start with and which way to turn. Right-up-right prime-up-right-up-up-right prime. Only the last two steps left. But I don't know how to solve it because I didn't finish learning it.

When we remember things, it is not only imprinted in our brain.

Our body, you see, can also remember things just as good as our brain, 

even the things we may not want our brain to remember,

our body may remember it, better than our brain does.

Just like how when I slept and had no blanket around, I would curl up my body, protect myself from the cold. My mother said, I used to sleep like that when I was baby.

Or just like how I woke up and looked at the ceiling, and found myself gasping, covering my head up, crying, from the dream of my burning house. I was trying to escape an accident I wished I could forget.

When we remember things, it is not only imprinted in our brain.

Our body, you see, can also remember things just as good as our brain, 

and even sometimes, we unconsciously pick up things from ones we once loved

and imprint it in the memory of our body.

Just like how I forgot the day I first mimicked the way my ex walked but even today I am still able to walk like the way he does, especially when I realized that there is a man walking behind me.

Or just like when you filled your glass and got drunk, not only by the alcohol but also the fog of rage. And when you are mad, fire burns in your tired eyes, your jaw clenches, just like the way she does.

Or just like how the way you put things into words, and the next day, she says the same things, exactly, just like the way you do.

Or just how you protect yourself from the hurt: you curl up your beautiful lips and curl down those tired eyes when you smile, just like the way she does.

I once asked you:

Did it hurt because you remembered,

...or did it hurt because you did not want to forget?

My brain may not understand the implicitness of explicit expressions, but there are things that I will remember of you solely, and there are things of you and the other things too that make me recall how I am gasping, trying to escape the sting that throbs through my chest, the hurt I wish I could forget.

gerhana bulan

Tak dapat lagi bulan bermakna ketika ia ranum dan purnama
karena bahkan bayang pun harus menyerah
ketika hilang ditelan cahaya;
karena bahkan malam harus mengalah
ketika matahari kembali ke singgasananya.


Aku tak lagi bermimpi,
aku tak lagi berharap
untuk menjadi matahari,
milikmu.

The dusk

I look up the sky. It isn't that bright for it is twilight, but the combination of reddish orange and blue sky are apparent and it is pretty; it reminds me of you.

"Do you like this time of the day? The dusk?" You asked.

"Yeah. I like the colors of the dusk. The pastel pink and the blue. It's just the perfect time of the tiring day," I answered.

"Me too. When I was a kid, it was my favorite time of the day because the time seemed slowing down. I could play as long as I wanted that I got so tired yet the night hadn't fallen," you cheerily added.

I open the window and take a picture of the beautiful sky. The picture certainly isn't as pretty as the actual view, but I guess it is good enough to show you. I pick your name over the "frequently contacted" list on my messenger application. The photo preview appears before I have the chance to actually send it to you. "Reminds me of you," I type the caption out. I inspect the picture once again and gaze at the sky. The night has fallen down so quickly, covering the sky with its dark blue blanket.

Looking on my left, I watch the freeway just like I always do. It isn't as dense as last week was, which soothed me as usual, but my mind is just brimful since forever.

I glance at my phone once again, checking the message I am going to send you, which actually has nothing to be checked on anymore. I waver, then press 'x' on the left corner of my phone. I put my phone inside my bag and continue to watch the cars pass by on the freeway, trying to get my mind busy instead of thinking of the beautiful dusk, thinking of you.

Kepada: Mawar merah muda

(3)

malam itu bulan tidak purnama:
ada tepinya yang tidak menegas,
lembut ia berbaur berserta gelap malam

dalam selaksa asap yang mengebul
dan itu pula matamu yang melirih, meneduh
seperti lampu jalanan yang pada aspal ini ia merengkuh

malam itu kita berebut rokok, korek, dan rindu
namun adakah resahmu hilang, mereda-redup
ketika jari-jariku berbalas genggammu?

dan jika harga malam itu dibayar waktu
tak mengapa kau rampok habis aku.

05092017

kepada: Mawar merah muda

(2)

tidak terlepas tangan bertaut

dan akupun demikian takut

mana tatkala fajar menyingsing 

malah akan dihantarkannya kau pergi.

melalu palang, melompat rindu,

dan kembali temu aku padamu

pada dekapmu yang suam, semu.

tapi mungkin ada kenangan

yang sebaiknya harus tinggal dilupakan.

kepada: Mawar merah muda

(1)

di antara raihan lenganmu padaku
ada jarak sebesar nol.
dingin jemariku pada lehermu,
dapatkah kau rasa?

massaku tak lagi bekerja pada gravitasimu
dan hanya terpejam mata
saat kau rebahkan tepimu padaku.

on my mind

 

21072017

I’ve been watching the ember of my cig dim
for more than a week, for now
and how it screams as it dies down.

My head is a messy turbulence,
and my heart is a careless one
for it beats lavishly
for something abstruse and unknown.

My head may not know
how to stop my hand
from keep hitting itself.
But it surely knows
how to choke my heart
to stop burning itself.

But may wits never get
his chance for its triumph,
so we can sit
and watch my heart dim
and how it screams as it dies down.

Limerence

bahkan jika dalam raihan jemariku
barangkali tetap takkan aku dapatkan
matamu tertuju padaku.

23062017

Aku rindu
saat malam melihatku
dengan kedua bola matanya yang gelap
walau itu berarti
ia menghujamku tepat di jantungku;

atau saat malam berjalan
menyusuri bibir pantai bersamaku
dan aku melihat ia menyibakkan ombak-ombak
bergulung berlarian indah
seperti rambutnya yang legam
dan bergelombang.

Sekarang sudah 3 hari
malam pulang dan tak kembali lagi
dan aku mati terbakar.

21042017

special, you're like a rocket to me

Your hometown

I love your hometown:
it's sun shower and traffic jam,
it's cold stare, and satisfying apathy.

I love your hometown:
where the hushful is a bliss,
and solitary trance never feels desolate and bereft.

I wish I was there,
because it's where your space was in an approachable heavens
and the impossible was abolished and probable,
even if the only thing you gave me was your cold shoulder
as a souvenir, from your hometown.