Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts

Friday, 11 November 2016

almanak penggenggam sang hujan

setelah sekian lama menghela nafas di khayangan,
saatnya ku turun main layangan,
setelah sekian lama mengulum rindu mengucap janji,
saatnya ku rebah dalam sembah,

bulir keringat beradu sendu,
tak pelak hadir pula sang waktu.
menggelinjang manja
menggoda.

berdiri bulu kakiku,
menyambut luapan air.
banjir.







Sunday, 13 December 2015

RWD: Cascading Thru the Window Sill..

This afternoon
This foolishly over-flown thought
This ambiguous idea
This idea of you and I

Across the sea.



Saturday, 13 December 2014

nocturnal flower.

when 
you 


w   o       rrr  k 
y
o
u
R

 ass off, 


bbb ... u... ttt...



n
  o
    n 
      e 

appreciates you.






Wednesday, 19 November 2014

Nighty Night.

Starry, starry night.
Oh, dear nighty night.

Hazy, dazy night.
Oh, love nighty night.

Blurry, blurry night.
Oh, darling nighty night.

Glossy, gauzy night.
Oh, sweetheart nighty night.

Pick up my phony phone.
Oh, baby nighty night.

Reply my texty text.
Oh, honey nighty night.

Read my chatty chat.
Oh, sparky nighty night.


Sunday, 5 October 2014

Menggila dalam Sepersekian Detik.

jerit
ingin aku menjerit
diri bagai terhimpit
laiknya mata menyipit
gurau di ujung jalan 
bercerita kepadaku
gardu di perempatan
memanggil namaku
dunia gila
ya,
dunia gila
terjerembab raga
masuki lembah nista
seketika mengumpat
tertangkap bajing loncat
hilang kesadaran
telanjang
bulat
kaki terlipat
persimpangan jalan
rumah baruku



monday madness
21052007

Saturday, 27 September 2014

dan, lalu, kemudian, hilang.

tetapi kemudian aku hilang.

sejurus kemudian aku bimbang.

namun kemudian dia datang.

lalu kemudian membawaku pulang.



hingga kemudian barisan kata ini tertuju untukmu, KRL sayang.
dan kemudian lari lajulah ke tanah abang.

Wednesday, 6 November 2013

J A B B E R W O C K Y



















Lewis Carroll

(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872) 

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves 
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe. 

    "Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
        The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
    Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
        The frumious Bandersnatch!" 

    He took his vorpal sword in hand:
        Long time the manxome foe he sought–
    So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
            And stood awhile in thought.

    And, as in uffish thought he stood,
        The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
    Came wiffling through the tulgey wood,
      And burbled as it came!

    One, two! One, two! And through and through
        The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
    He left it dead, and with its head
            He went galumphing back. 

    "And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
        Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
    O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" 
       He chortled in his joy.

    'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
      Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
    All mimsy were the borogoves,
     And the mome raths outgrabe. 




Alice found the above poem printed backwards in a book (while she sat watching the White King, and feeling a bit anxious). Holding it up to a glass she was able to read it, although not necessarily to understand it. Luckily, five chapters later, Humpty Dumpty volunteered to explain it to her. His success in this is debatable, however, given the number of literary types who have found the need to write their own interpretations.
The first stanza was published in the comic journal Mischmasch in 1855 under the title Stanza of Anglo-Saxon Poetry. The later full poem, Humpty's explanation, and inded the entire Through the Looking-Glass was published in 1871, and in many other editions since. For example,
  • Carroll, Lewis. Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There. New York: St. Martin's Press Inc, 1953.
  •  http://www.potw.org/archive/potw128.html

     *This is another obscure and peculiar piece of writing that I indulge so much since I was in the college. It gives me tremendous feeling of absurdity yet it takes me wondering around my own wandahland. :)
    Well, I encountered this Jubjub bird today. I can bear its sharp bite. If it got worst, I would like to explode my wrath undoubtedly. Beware of my own vorpal sword, you Jubby bird.

    Friday, 1 March 2013

    Will Future Torture or Enrapture?





    Future is unknown
    Nothing about it is shown
    And so future we do not own
    So confusion has grown

    Now we may plan
    But, God may ban
    We may think we can
    But God is superior to man

    We can never predict
    As fate will contradict
    Through a different verdict
    But, God, we cannot indict

    Future is a guarded secret
    Which may give a regret
    Or success we may get
    None can know it, I bet

    For future if we carefully save
    We will not be poverty's slave
    We will not maroon in worry-wave
    We can in life very boldly behave

    If our plans have loopholes
    We will have dolorous souls
    Will be perforated our goals
    Our losses, the World condoles

    Plans can be for future made
    With the hope of getting shade
    All our duties we must not evade
    Real grit must be by us displayed

    Future is surely an uncertainty
    It may give calamity or equanimity
    Hoping has got an excellent utility
    Future is safe via a sterling quality

    Future will become excellent
    If using of present is intelligent
    Better to be in life boldly nonchalant
    Calmly waiting is in itself a fine talent

    As a secret let future remain
    Let us postpone our pain
    If it becomes a gain
    We will feel immensely fine

    -Mailrangam Visvanathan Venkataraman-


               
    What would you like to accomplish in your future? Do you have great expectations about it? You may say you want to have a beautiful life, rich family, a never ending success, without imperfection? Well, to achieve all those magnificent dreams you can’t just imagine those things will happen in a twinkling. What you need to do is to react, do real action, don’t just boast around. This poem thoroughly represents the theme “Self-Development”; how future is explained, how to harmonize our plans and our future, and how God partakes in building up our future.
                The very first stanza shows the real state of the future itself. The poet wrote that future is unknown. We can’t predict what will happen to us later in the future. Things that we have planned will (not) only be fulfilled, depending on God’s will. Just like the writer tried to convey through the third and fourth line in this stanza; “And so future we don’t own, so confusion has grown.”
                You might have and kept asking questions why God doesn’t give us a complete vision of our future later? Why don’t we know our future from now? The second and third stanzas attempt to answer your and others’ questions about how we know our future. Since humans are only humans, we are God’s creations, God is always superior to human beings.
                Imagine we all know that 20 years from now one of you will be the president of Indonesia, what do you feel now? You may turn out to be an arrogant, high-hatted, and swelled-headed person as you know exactly that you will be a president in the future. However, if the reverse things happen to you, let’s say, 20 years later you will experience such dreadful natural disasters like tsunami, floods, and volcano eruption, what is in your mind now? Yapp, you will undergo such a terrified and shuddered life, right? You might  drown into deep eeriness, stop seeking your success and just simply let them go awry.
                 Well, let’s refer back to the poetry, in the fifth stanza, it is engraved that future is a guarded secret, yet, in the next stanzas, the poet composed the poem in such ways to remind us of the need to synchronize our plans and our future. None of us know in what ways we achieve our goals and how we end up later. It first appeared when you first entered this much-loved English Department. You barely had an idea of what would happen and experience, what grades you will attain, who your lecturers are, what kind of lecturing you will obtain, etc.
                In order to reach the maximum success in your life, just make it specified, in your learning process now, you have to try your best, study and struggle hard, and always remember to give your adoration to the Almighty Lord. In the same way as the poet noted down in the seventh and eighth stanzas; plans can be made, dedication can be changeable, and efforts can be strived, yet, it all reverts to God’s will.
                All the things that we do nowadays will absolutely affect our future, including the good and the bad. What we need to do is to strengthen our faith and believe that God is giving the best to us. Then, it becomes our duty to pursue our dreams and continue struggling. Keep it in your mind that God makes every single thing so delightful and pleasing in the right time and in the right place. Last but not least, as I watched an inspirational video entitled ‘Life is like a cup of coffee’ by an unknown author, it is proposed that, “The happiest people don’t have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything.” Live simply. Speak kindly. Care deeply. Love generously. Cheers!           

    Poetry source: www.poemhunter.com
    Special thanks to mbak Endah. super motivator! 

    *well, this was an article published in my faculty's magz where I belonged.. longed for.. for.. for.. like ever..



    Wednesday, 19 December 2012

    What happened in the zoo?







    Yesterday I went to the zoo,
    and I saw someone like you.
    He was holding a red-black shoe,
    the one I bought especially for you.

    When my eyes went blue,
    then the peacock flew,
    There was a cat beneath my red-black shoe,
    It was waiting for the rat which brought the super duper glue

    Yesterday I glued my heart on you,
    When I realized I did it in the zoo,
    In the zoo,
    In the zoo,
    I rolled the dice for me and you.




    Medio Yuni 2010
    Malam temaram

    Sunday, 16 December 2012

    The Fish, by Elizabeth Bishop




    When I first read this poem, all I had in mind was only poetry about a fisherman who had successfully caught an extremely big fish. Yet, I tried to reread it over and over again to uncover the ‘magical’ things hid by Bishop through her tremendous experience of catching a fish.

    Known as an independent artist and her interest of surrealism, Bishop explored the description of the fish in outstanding ways as if we, the reader, were the fisherman who caught that tremendous fish. Her details of the fish’s skin, gills, flesh, eyes, lips, and the old hooks were so incredibly specified. Each of her descriptions appeared such a crystal-clear imagery in my imagination.

    Reading deeply into the poetry itself, I found out what she meant by her belief that literature should address that world beyond life’s limitations; this poem is not as simply telling the readers that a fisherman had caught a fish, but it’s all about the things beyond the vivid descriptions Bishop conveyed through this beautiful poem.

    It’s about a chronicles of life, where we can find hopes and fears, wisdom and victory. The fisherman caught a big fish, yet from the fisherman’s descriptions about the fish he had caught, they reveal the real struggle of living a life. The fish is caught in fear, he just surrender his life with no fight, since he had won at least five previous fights (the old hooks in his lips). While the fisherman, after catching the tremendous fish, hoping to earn some money from the fish, but by his clear visual rendering of the picture that goes beyond his imagination, he obtains the wisdom of life (even he can see the rainbows—from the oil spread in the water and from the fish), so he let the fish go and achieved his victory by catching a big fish and letting him go. Nice poem!

    Tuesday, 4 December 2012

    Anne Sexton – Sylvia Plath: The Confessuicidal Poets





    Confessuicidal poets? What a gloomy title that I chose! But yes, in my opinion, these two poets really trapped my attention with their popularity as confessional poets yet decided to end their precious life by committing suicide. Considering in detail and subjecting to an analysis in the poetry entitled “Housewife” and “Daddy”, I would like to discover the essential features or meaning on their peculiar works in relation with their life story.

    Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath are very famous and regarded with great favor, approval, or affection especially by the general public for their controversial poetical life and poems. Both of them suffered the same condition of despair and mental breakdowns that somehow became their aspiration in writing their pieces. Most of their poems recounted their life experience, their personal life, their family life, their fight against depressive disorder, and their foremost notorious theme: death and inclination of committing suicide.
    In my opinion, these two poets had [almost] the same family background that eventually formed them and instilled them with such kind of trauma that later on would affect their way of thinking and cause terrible mental breakdown in the rest of their life. 

    Living in a dysfunctional family, Sexton and Plath ended up with awful memories of their family. Sexton was abandoned by her parents and Plath was being raised by an authoritarian father who died when she was eight years old. Thus, I could conclude why they’re so drown into such kind of bitterness they underwent at their young age. Along these lines, they appeared to endeavor an attempt to survive from their depression. As a result, themes on suicidal attempts, depression, death, family life, and desperation are considered as their object of escapism.  

    The two poets were also best known for their death controversy. They said to have several suicide attempt that later on ended up with the same scheme of death in the depths of despair. Sylvia Plath died at age 30 on February 1963 by carbon monoxide poisoning in the kitchen, with her head in the oven, while Anne Sexton died at the age 45 on October 1974 also by carbon monoxide poisoning in the garage. She might have inspired by her fellow student in Robert Lowell’s writing seminar at Boston University; Sylvia Plath. This was a surprising and lamenting fact that the poets revealed. 

    The poems “Housewife” by Sexton and “Daddy” by Plath talked much about their family lives; their relationship with their family members. In Housewife, Sexton merely narrated about her self reflection episodes through a simple and concise poem. As it is said in her biographical information, Sexton’s poems articulate some of the deepest dilemmas of her contemporaries about her most fundamental hopes and fears. She might have depicted her life’s experience as a mother and a housewife in this poem.

    Sexton gave rise to a desire by being attractive in her opening lines. As she stated, “Some women marry houses.” For me, it’s kind of true, since most women, when they become a housewife, they will have a 24/7 affiliation with the ‘house hold’ things. It’s not surprising that after a woman got married, she seems to marry the house not the husband. It is shown by the line, “It’s another kind of skin; it has a heart, a mouth, a liver, and bowel movements.” This line represents how women deal with the life after marriage. The house is portrayed to be the other kind of skin and having some human’s body parts such as heart, mouth, and liver. It shows me that the ‘house’ revealed to be a real living thing, a real companion in struggling through the life after marriage.

    Then, I could draw conclusion for the reason why Sexton wrote this line. As I got some information from her biography, it was due to the leaving of her husband. Her husband joined the marine and was sent to Korea. During the absence of her husband, she entered therapy. She appeared to be a single mother raising her child alone while her husband was away. This might caused a disturbance in her life, that a family should consist of a husband and wife that should share job in enduring their marriage. Or, according to my own interpretation, Sexton and her husband have a certain outward aspect that somehow they could not communicate and work together as a husband and wife.

    When I came to the line where Sexton said, “The walls are permanent and pink,” it appeared in my mind that every married woman in the world really want to have a permanent marriage, none of them, including me--later, wanting to have a difficult marriage that ends up with divorcement. It did happen to Sexton, a year before she killed herself; she split up with her husband. Then, as we all know, pink color symbolizes love, romance, and excitement. Sexton used the pink color to symbolize the celebration of love, the romantic life, and the excitement in the marriage itself. Yet, it looks as if it is the outer skin of the marriage, in fact, as it is said in the fifth line, “See how she sits on her knees all day,” wives contribute their whole life to serve the husband, and if they have children, they are the one who completely deprive their selves into their children’s development. The line “Men enter by force,” shows me that men just engage with the forcing of their demands. Here, particularly, men always associated with the sexual abuse or domestic violence in a family. “See how she sits on her knees all day” also shows me the domestic violence part. It reveals how a woman forced to do the household things up till “faithfully washing herself down”.

    Just exactly like what I have in Indonesian culture, where most of the society acknowledges the concept of patriarch family. Women, or wives, should obey their husbands’ demands. They are not allowed to complain and criticize the husbands’ decision. Javanese culture particularly, holds high the position of husband in a family. Yet women are more inferior to men. They always put aside. They have to choose; to be married or continue their career while receive mockery from other people.

    Responding to this tradition, no, it’s not a tradition actually. It’s a mindset. It’s a stereotype infused by the other people. Not to give a bad valuation to my own culture, it’s just my fidgetiness towards this old-fashioned mindset. Javanese people tend to have a hand in other people’s business even though they still have their own problems waiting to be solved. If I have to choose, I will choose to pursue my cherished desire, my strong drive for success. Then, after that, I will be married, have children, and continue what I will have achieved.

    Whereas Sexton narrated her life as a woman and a housewife, Plath described her father and child relationship in her poem Daddy. Still in the theme of confession, this poem clearly reveals her anger, her hatred, and her vengeance towards her father. Known as an authoritarian and dictator in the family, Plath expressed her rage for her father died when she was only eight years old.

    Most Plath poems are lengthy and use so much imagery. In the first stanza of Daddy, she depersonified her self as a foot and her father as black shoes. She used the shoe figure as we know that shoes are worn to protect the foot from stepping something. It illustrates that her father was her protector but he was died and letting her lived under poverty and sufferings. Yet, this shoe imagery could also be something ‘ladylike’ (as you suggest). It somehow represents the uncomfortableness, the state of being tense and feeling pain when wearing a pair of shoes. I could imagine my self wearing stilettos and what a hurtful sensation that I felt on my toes, ankles, and heels. Using this stilettos analogy, I would like to determine following investigation about the usage of the shoe imagery in Plath’s poem, Daddy. As we all know, stilettos is a kind of woman shoes with a very high narrow heel on the shoes. It appears to be perfect and elegant shoes. Graceful and classy. Yet, to wear this kind of shoe, needs a sacrifice to endure such hurt feeling, be uncomfortable or in pain. This is kind of shoe that Plath tried to portray her father, to give a mental representation of her father. 

    The second stanza, where she wrote, “Daddy, I have had to kill you, You died before I had time----“ gave me the idea about the time she couldn’t spend with her father. She seemed to blame her father for leaving her without giving any affection from a father to his daughter. She was lacking of warm compassionate feelings during her childhood. 

    In the 27th line, the German words, “Ich, ich, ich, ich” instead of revealing an inclination of her existence (Ich means I in English), somehow it gives me the impression of hurt feeling, as I tried to pronounce it, the words sounded almost like “itch, itch, itch”. It’s like a contagious skin infection caused by the itch bug and causing skin irritation. In my opinion, this was another imagery used by Plath to divulge the figure of her father as the one who cause what I called as her “mind infection” and “heart irritation”.

    Plath exploited so many harsh words and cruel imagery as I discovered in the seventh stanza, the 31st line and so on, where she positioned herself as a Jew in the Nazi concentration camps of Holocaust. She even wrote that her father was like an engine that chuffing her off like a Jew. It might be her father as a German descendant that caused her used German’s imagery as she told that “I thought every German was you”. At this point, I would like to ask, whether or not she conceive her father and Nazi leader, Hitler, having the same personality? Or it’s kind of tribute to the brute treatment that she received from her father so she used such Nazi imagery?

    Lines by lines she consistently scorned and expressed her hatred towards father in words. From “I have always been scared of you”, “Brute heart of a brute like you”, “A cleft in your chin instead of your foot, But no less a devil for that…”, “There’s a stake in your fat black heart, And the villagers never liked you”, until “Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through”.

    Furthermore, Plath also described her father as God and Devil. Two completely inverse things. Plath, who’s been left by father since she was eight years old, considered her father as someone who has a God-like dignitary. A father to a child will be a guiding star, someone who will always be there to accompany and to guide his child. However, Plath felt the other way around. She might think that she did not have a good memory with her father, so she juxtaposed the Godlike with the Devil-like character. It is clearly seen that Plath’s words and imagery are all of the tokens of the same symbol: bitterness, satirical mimicry and hatred towards her father.

    As I came to the end of the poem, I found out that she used the word black so many times. The first one is in the second line, the black shoe, then in the 55th line, A man in black with a Meinkampf, in the 69th line, the black telephone, and in the 76th line, your fat black heart. As we all already know, black represents dark power, sexuality, sophistication, formality, mystery, fear, evil, unhappiness, depth, sadness, remorse, anger, anonymity, underground, mourning, and death. Specifically, this poem emphasized the black color as a color that symbolizes dark power, fear, evil, unhappiness, sadness, remorse, anger, mourning, and death. By using this metaphor, Plath again and again tried to convey all her feelings and poured it all into this poem.

    As the end result of an analysis process of the family backgrounds of Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath, I could reach a conclusion that their splendid writings are overshadowed and overwhelmed by things they experienced throughout their lives. The core link between these literary works is the poets’ experiences that they apprehended as an accumulation of psychological result of perception and learning and reasoning that residues from direct engagement commencing the time they were raised by their parents and family. 

    In addition, I also found out that these two poets; Sexton and Plath had come to believe on the basis of emotion, intuition, or indefinite grounds that poetry with confessional themes are their way to relief such burden in their life. They used poetry to remove oneself from a familiar environment, usually for pleasure or diversion. To come upon after searching; find the enjoyment, find the joyous revenge of something or someone that was missed or lost. In this specific theme, Sexton tried to discover what’s been missing from her as a housewife, what she experienced and lived through her firsthand knowledge of states, situations, emotions, or sensations of being a housewife, while Plath tried to perceive her loosing of her father by paying lack of respect accompanied by a feeling of intense dislike.