Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Happy Indonesia Mother's Day (December 22nd)

A mother's love determines how
We love ourselves and others.
There is no sky we'll ever see
Not lit by that first love.

Stripped of love, the universe
Would drive us mad with pain;
But we are born into a world
That greets our cries with joy.

How much I owe you for the kiss
That told me who I was!
The greatest gift--a love of life--
Lay laughing in your eyes.

Because of you my world still has
The soft grace of your smile;
And every wind of fortune bears
The scent of your caress.

(Turlough O'Carolan)


For all that you have given me,
I can return but love. For you
Bound up the wounds I did not see
And gave me hopes and passions new.

I can return but love for you,
Whose unmoved faith my heart did move,
And gave me hopes and passions new,
And loved me till I turned to love.

Whose unmoved faith did my heart move?
The mother of my heart, not blood,
Who loved me till I turned to love.
And I became the soul I would.

The mother of my heart, not blood,
Bound up the wounds I did not see.
And I became the soul I would
For all that you have given me.

(Dimitri Shostakovich)

Happy Mother's Day to my dear Mum,
Author of my personality:
Pleased, I hope, with what you read in me;
Pleased, I hope, with episodes to come.
Yet now I, too, would get some pleasure from
Making you the book in which I see,
Of all the players in my family,
The central character, whom I would plumb.
How beautiful to move in that direction!
Each to each a separate source of pleasure,
Reading in the other's happiness,
in much description, underlying love.
So would we deepen the connection,
Discovering new passages to treasure
As we follow time towards tenderness,
Yearning for what years unread will prove.

(J. S. Bach)

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Two moons in an hour

Two moons in an hour
like reflecting to each other
is there a mirror between?
or my head is getting dizzy?

Two moons with lazy rays
though no clouds in front of them
kind of reflections I've never found
they get me dizzy or I'm getting myself so

The importance and only thing
the only thing that I can think
it's two moons in their real shapes

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Journey to the Mountains

Five great stones splitted a lone river. Right in the middle lied the biggest, yet the generous one. As I had walked for nine-hundreds steps under the knee-height water surface, I became slower than a band of snails. There, on the great stone I leaned. With all hopeless staring at high, high skyscrapers. My sweats ran dry like flood in rainy season, my throat was left nothing but the drought. Yet, the steps would have been twenty-fold of I had crawled from the river bank. To wipe the wet forehead, to scrap the dirts on shoulders unifying with the temper of my nerves. As water splash kept breaking the stone, it could had had been hotter than that afternoon’s sun.
The blue sky turned to gray a while, then completely dark since I had not afforded to count my own fingers. There was a black out over the generous stone. Completely blacked out I was under the sky for a moment or two.
Then came across the all-white shadows on an alien prairie. No houses even huts ahead every direction. No hands but the sound of a flying crow like a rolling thunder. And suddenly … furry, black crow truly smashed my back into deadly pains. That was a big, big crow I had ever seen the whole life. It was nothing I could guess whether he or she. The eyes were as black as the furs, and the tallons, and even the tongue…yes I saw the tongue. I was scared in deep hopelessness.
“What are you doing on my back? Hitting me from behind, hhuhh?” Annoyed by the crow’s disguising visit I shouted like a mad one. “Hitting me from behind? Stabbing when I’m blinded?” And whatsoever mocking and cynicism like I had used to see on my daily days.
As the crow was no more than having no answer machine but koaa…koaa..koaa…words I did not understand at all. “Killing me like a cowards, hhhuhh?” My voice even was louder than ever.
“Koaa…koaa…koaa…” The crow said nothing more than “koaa…koaa..koaa…” Then after three times of turning back it flied over my head and went the distance. My back pain got lighter, I got better than minutes ago when the black, giant tallons seemed to bruise my very skins to bones.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Power - less

Empty road into the wood

Stony walks nearby the banks

Crossing all bushes when sun so young

At the gravel after the rain

Footsteps were hard to find the shelter

Closer about to water stream

This slippery soils prevented the stand

Verify too harsh, verily hard

When light was blocked to blackened eye

It was long way to go through it

It was very wild and mean

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Nothing more

When leaves start falling
there's nothing to do but to hope
that they fertilize your soils
one day

On which crops be alive
for your future needs

Days come and go and
you're a cameo of universe blockbusters
you're nothing more

Friday, September 18, 2009

A World

Wind
silence
and sand.
No strength even to die.
Waiting
hoping
in vain.
And a candle you light for yourself thereby.
Enough
the ivory tower
all ablaze,
Good for nothing, you see!
Holes
molehills
and stones,
Good though, we call it world.

Author: Vladislav Katzarski

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Ketika Saya Bertanya

Sampai kapankah saudara berlari mengejar setoran sambil berkamuflase "Tuhan, berikanlah kemudahan", sementara lidah saudara siap-siap menjilat pantat bau busuk pimpinan saudara?
Sampai kapan saudara berkhayal meniduri seorang cantik laksana bidadari sembari berdalih "aku mencintaimu", sementara saudara acuh terhadap cinta sejati seorang perempuan dekil?

Sampai kapan saudara terus teriak, "aku cinta negeriku" sambil menenteng tas ransel bersulam materialisme, berisikan pernik-pernik bernuansa seberang entah-berantah?

Sampai kapan saudara berpuisi, "lihat mereka berjuang demi sesuap nasi" sambil mengunyah makanan cepat saji pembangun kanker?

Sampai kapan saudara meracau "kita harus bangkit bersama" sambil mendengus mengendap di kegelapan demi mencuri langkah?

Sampai kapan saudara berdakwah penuh hiasan ayat suci sambil berprasangka bahwa mereka yang buta akan itu adalah bukan manusia mulia?

Sampai kapan saudara bernyanyi merdu "aku orang Indonesia" sambil ketakutan oleh sengatan matahari pada kulit saudara?

Sampai kapan saudara berdendang tentang kebanggaan nenek moyang, kekayaan alam, sambil terbata-bata menyimak bahasa yang layaknya saudara pahami dalam satu letupan ide?
Sampai kapan saudara berkumandang, "anda sangat mengerti" sedangkan saudara tak pernah mengerti?

Sampai kapan saya bertanya? Sampai nanti...

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Army of Rose

She wore a red armband written with "NAISEODIN". When I asked her what it meant, she threw me a little smile. Her face was covered by dust and dirt of the day. "Why don't you wash your face?", I asked. She answered, "If I put the water for myself, then they won't have any."

Still, no idea came and I kept wandering the name of her armband. She look too young to carry such dirts. I asked again, "Your skin will get darker if keep sun bathing, lady". "Aw, will I? Then, what's wrong with that?". I lost my word, like being upper cut by a lucky blow, even, more embarrassing, a low blow. I truly had no word to argue.

She tightened the red armband, fastened the grip around a wooden-made rod I didn't know what it was for.

"Join me, will you? Or, you can squirt all your orgasms with them," her left point finger directed to a school of sexy, busty, skinny, lovable, and beautiful looks carrying blackberries with their smooth, white fingers. "Don't they turn you on, buddy?," she confirmed. I kept silent before answering, "Yes, they do. They're f***able c****s". "Ah, creatures with balls, hahaha!" She laughed. I left her, entered lavatory to take a pee, and got in my room. I then composed any word written on that dirty young lady. "I found it!" I shouted and ran after her. "Hey, is it really what you think?" "What?" "...the armband? Why have you made me rearranged it like a mad guy?" "Well, not a big deal, buddy".

"One more question, so have I known what you are to do?" "Keep asking, and keep aching in your heart!" "Alright."

Four hours needed to make thing done. What? She constructed a plane. "But why does it only have one wing?" "Oh yeah? So what for have you been here for f***ing 640 minutes?" "I hope so ...ehmm I," "All you have to do is to get the thing done, and you only said 'I hope so', what??!" Then I worked so hard to replicate her doing. So complicated, so difficult. Another 640 minutes made 76800 seconds gone in so fast. "Now it is done. You may leave or you may stay," she told me.

Monday, July 27, 2009

O-zone ku menganga

Dengarkan ia merintih
dengarkan ia menangis
asa yang terluka oleh
gejolak insan semesta

Camkan ia berkisah
selamilah dalam pintanya
retak tempatku berpijak
tertusuk panas sembilu

Terkuras habis keringat negeri
oleh panas suasana
tatkala langit kan binasa
karena tiada atap menghalang

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Jelitanya Persadaku (we will not go down!!)

peace not warMenjerit karena kemurkaan yang memuncak,
akibat geliat sang angkara murka.
Kebingungan antara mendidih dan membeku,
tatkala mentari terhalang mega.
Apakah ini yang kau panggil sebagai primadona?
Hingga ke manapun dihunus sorot mata?
Tak ada celak untuk berhias diri,
sepertinya kau anggap cantikku alami (memang demikian adanya)
Garis cerita penguasa mahkota
mutiara hitam yang begitu langka.
Aku mustinya tersenyum di dalam duka
dan bersyukur di dalam luka.
Rajam mendera tak henti-hentinya
mengoyak koyak merenggut nyawa.
Tapi, mustinya aku tetap tertawa,
menatapmu yang pusing kepala.
Tersenyum sinis melihat ulahmu yang menghiba-hiba.
Kamu adalah raga tanpa jiwa,
yang hilang akal mengusik kedamaianku.
Kamu adalah kepala berotak udang,
yang hanya bisa mengemis saja.
To all terrorists of any kind and any sort of you...listen,
You can NEVER kill the genuine spirits of our nation. You can NEVER piss me off, even when you drop Nukes on our motherland. CRYSTAL CLEAR !!

Monday, July 6, 2009

Identity Crisis

Guest poem by F. D. Reeve

He was urged to prepare for success: "You never can tell,
he was told over and over; "others have made it;
one dare not presume to predict. You never can tell.

Who’s Who in America lists the order of cats
in hunting, fishing, bird-watching, farming,
domestic service--the dictionary order of cats

who have made it. Those not in the book are beyond the pale.
Not to succeed in you chosen profession is unthinkable.
Either you make it or--you’re beyond the pale.

Do you understand?"
"No," he shakes his head.
"Are you ready to forage for freedom?"
"No," he adds,
"I mean, why is a cat always shaking his head?

Because he’s thinking: who am I? I am not
only one-ninth of myself. I always am
all of the selves I have been and will be but am not."

"The normal cat," I tell him, "soon adjusts
to others and to changing circumstances;
he makes his way the way he soon adjusts."

"I can’t," he says, "perhaps because I’m blue,
big-footed, lop-eared, socially awkward, impotent,
and I drink too much, whether because I’m blue

or because I like it, who knows. I want to escape
at five o’clock into an untouchable world
where the top is the bottom and everyone wants to escape

from the middle, everyone, every day. I mean,
I have visions of two green eyes rising
out of the ocean, blinking, knowing what I mean."

"Never mind the picture, repeat after me
the self’s creed. What he tells you you
tells me and I repeats. Now, after me:

I love myself, I wish I would live well.
Your gift of love breaks through my self-defeat.
All prizes are blue. No cat admits defeat.
The next time that he lives he will live well."

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Garuda di dadaku

Masihkah tersisa cinta di hatimu?
Akan negeri yang t'lah berikanmu tanah 'tuk berpijak, udara 'tuk bernapas,
dan air 'tuk kau minum?

Masihkah tersisa rasa dalam hatimu?
Akan p'rilaku yang bijak dan kesederhanaan
yang terpancar dari inti bumi nusantara?
Akan keyakinan
sebongkah batu pun 'kan menjadi berlian?

Masihkah tersisa niat dalam benakmu?
Akan kinarya yang tulus tanpa
memandang indahnya istana bertatah pualam?
Akan sumbangsih bagi nusa seberapapun koyaknya hatimu?

Masihkah tersisa masa?
Ketika dukanya adalah dukamu jua?
Tatkala sukamu adalah bahagianya mereka?

Masihkah terbias pandang di kedua matamu?
Ialah derita menjerit yang kau intip dari jendela kencanamu?
Ialah peluh membanjir yang kau singkap dari tirai sutramu?

Masihkah kepak sayap garuda
membahana di atas langit istanamu?
Seperti cengkeram jalunya menancap erat
pada jiwa setiap m'reka di aspal panas?

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Lagu Rindu

Pada tetes embun selaksa kali menggores batu,
Pada air mata yang silih berganti bersihkan kabur,
Pada malam sejuta bintang tanpa sulam cahaya bertirai fana,
Pada liukan jalan berjenjang tatkala hijau meraba,
Pada gersang ketika ingin dahaga membelai rasa,
Pada kelam yang punahkan kesangsian di jiwa,
Pada marah dan siksa yang berujung cambuk pendobrak sukma,
Pada hampa swara swasana sisihkan gurauan lantang menggoda,
Pada dera mencerai menerpa bisikkan sutra terhunus duri petaka,
Pada badai, petir, ombak menyambar menguji bahtera,
Pada cacian hina durjana berhias tiara berbias takhta...

Setiyo W. Widodo, 16/5/2009., untuk orang-orang terkasih.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Flattering

When I go down you catch me in
When I'm away you send a prayer
When I get lost you trace me back
When I'm asleep your angel guards
When I'm awake you never leave

It's when only hope can fill the room

SWW, April 15, 2009

It is never too late till it is late

When the Three Musketeers spell "all for one, one for all", no bullets or swords will hurt. Though aging times shadows, though exhausts bruise their fleshes and bones.
Fighting for the honor in agony, easing the paralysed hope of their fellows. They stand on pain, the stand on wound.
One for all the messages, which say "never give up!". All for one hope, "nothing's impossible".
The kit they wear is the kit of million tears and joys. The kit they wear is one that denies impossibilities.
When the Three Musketeers step up to the battlefield, their hearts are greater than their fellows' dreams. Their blood runs faster than our nervous skins.
If they should die, I want them to die with honor badge around their shoulders. As what they've done so far has been great.
Tribute to the Three Musketeers of Rossoneri: Paolo Maldini, Massimo Ambrosini, and Filippo Inzaghi.
FORZA MILAN !

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

A Night Beyond the Horizon


By the sky I raise my sights
By the moon I stare insights
By the grass I lay my delights
By the hills I see the lights

The moon as I see through glancing
Line of hopes continue growing
As I crawl the mountains with pain in rain
Feel the beginning a chant of gain

Steps are millions toward the shore
Leaving the home for the longed for
Though nights deny long time before
A simple mind I can ignore

Shadows come as star falling
The eastern sky the night's belonging
Through evening star flies my calling
West horizon star be landing

Setiyo W. Widodo, Semarang, Indonesia, April 8th, 2009.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

I do

I do believe in...

rain to shower the desert
snow hanging the tropical rim
sixty-first second of a minute
the eigth day of just a week
the thirteen month of just one year

I do comply with...

signs I dreamt last night
stitch I mend my clothes
string that splits my neck
nails that bruise my leg

I do...

I care what brought me down
I care what turned me on
I care what lifted me high
I care what blacked me out

I do...

commit to what you need
admit the things you bring
permit how treat you be
profit you start calling

I do...

Saturday, March 28, 2009

When I do...


I do believe in...

rain to shower the desert
snow hanging the tropical rim
sixty-first second of a minute
the eigth day of just a week
the thirteen month of just one year

I do comply with...

signs I dreamt last night
stitch I mend my clothes
string that splits my neck
nails that bruise my leg

I do...

I care what brought me down
I care what turned me on
I care what lifted me high
I care what blacked me out

I do...

commit to what you need
admit the things you bring
permit how treat you be
profit you start calling

I do...

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Jombloo = Happy ?


Tentu itu karena keadaan yang mulanya "memaksa" untuk tetap merasa bahagia. Tentu dalam hati kecil ingin pula merasakan belaian sayang kekasih. Seperti mereka yang tengah menjalani mahligai nan indah dan berwarna.

Akhirnyalah dari terpaksa menjadi terbiasa. Tiada tempat untuk bersandar. Betapa sepinya. Begitulah hari-hari yang harus dilewati.

Sendiri bukan pilihan untuk selamanya. Buktinya, ada tersisa waktu kala merasa "kedinginan" di tengah malam. Kadang juga ... ah ... menangis (Pataskah? Betapa rapuhnya ...) Tapi itu yang senyatanya. Tak perlu ditutupi atau berlagak tahan banting. Yang menjadikan diri kuat hanyalah pertanyaan: "Maukah dirimu menggantikan jiwa dan ragaku? Menjalani ini semua seperti yang ku telah dan sedang jalani?" Hanya itulah yang membuat senyum, pun hanya sekejap.

Sendiri bukan karena enggan melepaskan status itu. Melainkan merasa betapa sulitnya untuk mengakhiri episode itu. "Bad luck", itu mungkin istilahnya. Akhirnya lah seperti ini. Harus tetap bahagia apapun yang sedang terjadi. Harus bahagia karena telah menjalani jurang yang terjal dan curam. "Auuch ... cakiitnya ..." Ya, siapa bilang tidak sakit? Dirasakan saja, "rak wis" :)

Anggap saja itu semua "door-prize" yang tidak setiap orang mendapatkannya ;).

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Purple Heart


Kan mentari undurkan diri
masih kusisa senyum di hati
kan pelangi henti lingkari
bidadari tetap bernyanyi

Dewi malam tak kunjung salam
di ujung pantai tak kilau tiram
hembus bayu dalam temaram
tajam menusuk keras menghunjam

Satu warna beribu makna
enyah duka tengah melanda
kelebat sutra ungu merona
kibaskan lara sang semenjana