Hujan dan Kertas

dear ulterior twilight
walking on the midst of haze
tell me something; "what is circumstances?"

for not being exist in this world
you tell me a whole lot of things
it's lack of understanding yet amaze me

and the songs they sing
with every shivering string of guitar
for once just tell ; "who is circumstances?"
for this one last time
dear ulterior twilight

 
19 mei 2009
3:39 am
to whoever you are, thanks

hai gadis yang berada disana,

terbelenggu oleh kerasnya hubungan manusia dan nalarnya

takdir yang seperti ada di depan mata

rasa takut yang tak bisa dihindari, pun tampak tak bisa dihadapi

kekalutan yang bergerak dalam gelap, dalam bayangan yang tak bisa ditepis

hari-hari yang berlalu adalah hari-hari yang tertiup angin waktu

detik-detik yang berlalu adalah detik-detik untuk menunggu

tentang masa depan yang tampak pasti, dan segera hadir

penantian-penantian yang menghapus usaha-usaha manusia-manusia lain yang mencoba datang dan harus pergi karena kekerasan hati

hai gadis, tersenyumlah

karena ketidakpastian adalah hukum tertua di dalam semesta

dan tak ada masa depan yang pasti, tak ada

tak ada takdir yang hanya satu arah untuk dijalani

percayalah bahwa suatu saat akan ada pria berhati baja yang akan datang dan percaya kepadamu

layaknya sang putri yang akhirnya terselamatkan oleh sang pangeran

karena awan kelabu tidak selalu menurunkan tetes hujan

karena terik matahari tak selamanya membakar

dan sebuah isi hati tak selamanya sama

maka, berusahalah untuk percaya

bahwa saat itu akan datang

berdoalah, dan percaya

12.38

August 3rd, 2011

Tell me; can a jester be sad? I feel somehow the jesters are punished to wear the smiling mask and entitled to entertain people everyday. It’s either punishment or just the cruel way to say, “it’s your destiny”. I can’t help but to feel lost on the way to understand the meaning, the metaphor, and especially the irony of being a jester. We are all have our jesters inside each of us, every single one of us. Or at least, I do have it.

Have you ever wondered what’s it like to be a jester consciously? The sole purpose of to entertain, to trick minds, or just to annoy people, to hid feelings deep behind that mask is just scary. Yet, we are all somehow living that life, one way or another. We strive in live for the sole purpose of recognition from others. A good jester is someone who can get applauses after he/she has done the tricks. And so we are.

But do we really know if the jester is smiling too, behind the smiling mask? or it’s just a fake smile to hid the sad face behind? Admit it, we don’t want to see sad faces around us; we’ve got our own problems to feel sad. We need comedians to make us laugh without even knowing if they’re enjoying it, making us laugh. Do they laugh too?

Life is an irony. We see what we want to see, and not what we need to see. Somehow, it’s kind of pathetic. Yes it is. We’re pathetic human beings without knowledge of others’ feelings.

19 July 2011

12.49 AM

Hope is like a balloon which floats away and you are the apple on the top of the tree. That balloon will slowly try to reach the apple – which is you – from the ground to the highest leaf. But only for a moment; it will float away so high while the apple remains the same. Eventually, the balloon will be a small explosion in the sky and there will be nothing left except the lasting tastes of sentiments.

One thing to be questioned is what happened when the balloon was as high as the apple? The answer is nothing happened, only a brief moment of joy; the apple finally found something willingly flew to be the same high and the balloon – which was hope – stupidly thought it got hold of the apple when the truth was it couldn’t stop as it wishes.

This is a tragicomedy. A story which some of us experienced in some way, perhaps more than just being an apple or a balloon. But it is life, when things always don’t turn up as we please.

18 July 2011

1.52 AM

We were two strangers waiting on the bench quietly hoping for something to break the silence.

We were two strangers curiously wanting to know about each other’s name and phone number but too shy to ask anyway.

We were two strangers having the most awkward moment when we shake our hands and pretend we’re ‘okay’.

We were two strangers finally greeted each other and eagerly tell stories about each of us

We were two friends sharing our dreams and hopes and all the plans we have for life.

We were two friends fighting over something silly and afterward laughing about it.

We were two friends and there’s a gap between us without anyone ever realizing about it.

We were two friends having dispute over someone’s stupid actions and seemed to not settle the arguments.

We were two friends strolling the timeline without knowing the cracks were widening.

We were two friends whose arguments started to make us standing in silence.

We were two friends who didn’t speak to each other in a long time.

We were two friends who became loosely related to each other anymore, strangely stared into blank space.

We are two strangers having known for some times then suddenly all of it gone, erased from memory.

We were two strangers waiting on the bench quietly hoping for nothing would be the same.

(Inspired from Wongfu’s “Strangers, Again” and a little bit of reality)

17 July 2011

22.10

if only I could be on top of the mountain

I would scream my hope to the skies and the valleys

to incinerate all the vague thoughts and uncertainties

to widen my shoulders and deepen my breath

because I need those shoulders so I can be relied on

because I want to breath deeper and longer

since every breath I take

is you.

if only I could tell all the stories; of miseries and hopes

I would write the best tragic comedy of love

to dispel all the misty mind and blurry thoughts

to make myself braver, brave enough to speak the truth

because I fear the worst thing to happen

because I fear what may come after

since what I fear the most

is losing you.

 Ajie

15 July 2011

1.19 AM

lately, i have been struck by this flashing image of me holding a girl's, while she's doing her works from office in a study room, in the middle of the night. crazy thing is that, i'm absolutely sure that it's not a memory of mine, because, well, i haven't own a house yet. crazier thing is, that i don't even have girlfriend. because i'm absolutely sure that i'm holding someone who is important to me in that image. to be honest, it quite makes me wonder what's happening to me. there are several theories which me and my friend (thanks, Zeva!) came up. ok, i'm exaggerating it to sounds like there are a lot of theories. it's only two.

first, is that i'm having this phychic ability, a premonition, or an ability to see future events. that being said, i'm seeing an event, which opens a one of the most important things: that girl is my future girlfriend/wife. but the problem is that i cant really remember her face, even if the images keeps on flashing in my mind. T.R.O.U.B.L.E.

second theory, and it's quite cliche, my friend said that i'm having this underconsciousness when my mind is trying to tell me that i'm LONELY. ha! i told her that i'm not lonely at the moment, and she said it could happen, when you are actually in some kind situations and you consciously deny it. but it's there, and it's really what you feel. and i think she's right. i have to keep the second (of me being loney as the trigger) as another option why i'm having this flashing images.

so, i've been bothered by it and the only way i know how to ease the pressure is to write it. and because i like to write poems, then i wrote it. half an hour ago. dawn (is it dawn already?) is surely a good time to write. :P
i intended to write a sonet, a shakespere-kind-of sonet, but it turns out ugly. and this is what i wrote (and also i would like to say, good night!):

a lit of burning candles light the room
i feel the warmth on the air as i walk in through the wooden door
an echoing sound in my ears, a chant of monsoon
The rain is falling outside the windows; to you it's a joy to cherish for
then the rain stops, darling, after three days of never-ending thoughts
for a brief moment, i could see your shivering shoulders
piles of papers to be done, and tired eyes to be fought
don't you see? the half-moon is on the sky, beautiful as ever
and so do you
suddenly, i couldn't hold longer to just stare
as i walk to, on that chair, i once again know why i am there
i touch your shivering shoulders and kiss your head
then you smile at me, a heavenly smile which bestowed upon you to light your world
on that very moment, i believe you are there just for me
the only bright star on the gloomy hour
but without warning, the moment is slowly fading away
the flashing image of this night begins to blur
all that's left is me staring blankly at the night's sky
a daydream delusion, after all
which strikes me like the furious militias of Rome
which leaves me wondering, what was that? and when was this memory?
but it's not even a memory of mine!
because i don't even know who you are!
who are you?
who are you, O my bright star?
who are you, O the angel from afar?
who are you?


Aji
27 March 2011
3.34 AM

Fallen leaves of autumn, it may swollen by numbers as weeks go by.
No more songs of the nightingales, only mere larks' chirps in the night
Thy songs of desperations, O larks, art those lies? A sublime message of the sky?
I shall believe thy lullaby, for I am in needs of a light.
A beacon on the seashore, for I cannot find a way home. A night's candles which shed a light on a gloomy heart.
A long time have I been trapped in this dark room.
The lark's song, a mere sound I hear, held dearest as if it's the only cure of sad.
O gods of the night, thou shall convey thine enormous words.
Let the sun be arise, let secrets be unspoken!
For I am unmanned, unmended, and unmade of my unsheathed sword.
O gods of the night, let the curse be broken!
For I shall travel far and away to buds of May.
And with empty heart I cannot love nor live, nay!


March 21, 2011
Aji
03.21 AM