it was the end of winter, but still very cold. it was like a secret that nobody keeps. you kept on walking, looking away from the crowd. stillness, my friend, is never young never old.
Author: violeteye
Gratiagusti Chananya Rompas was born in Jakarta, 19 August 1979. She studied English Literature in Universitas Indonesia, Depok (2003) and received her masters in The Gothic Imagination from University of Stirling, Scotland (2005).
She is one of the founders of Komunitas BungaMatahari, a mailing list-based Indonesian poetry community that have embraced many poetry enthusiasts with its catchphrase “semua bisa berpuisi” or, roughly translated, “poetry for all”. She is also involved in Selatan, a literary journal, and Paviliun Puisi, a monthly open mic event--both managed by her and her like-minded friends.
She currently resides in Jakarta, trying to find balance between writing and day-to-day living.
sakit gigi
mencoba mencari puisi di antara sakit gigi mungkin seperti menyelam tapi tidak mau basah. main-main dulu di pantai, mengumpulkan kerang, membangun istana pasir. lalu menyewa perahu layar ke tengah lautan dan memandangi air laut yang seperti agar-agar, mencoba menahan dorongan ingin terjun ke dalamnya. karena pasti fatal akibatnya kalau aku hanya tahu bagaimana terlihat menarik di dalam bikini kuning mustard, bukan pakaian selam. terombang-ambing dalam kesendirian seperti ini saja sudah cukup cantik. aku tidak perlu lagi kesunyian yang lebih dalam dan koral-koral menawan di bawah sana. ah ya, lain kali aku akan menyewa kapal selam saja. siapa bilang menyelam harus basah. lagipula puisi tidak pernah ada di balik sakit gigi. ada-ada saja.
“A poem should not mean
But be”
– Archibald MacLeish
– pertama kali diterbitkan di sini –
#Log 34
I went to the dentist at my former university’s medical centre. I was told to eat particular foods and then come back after a few weeks to be x-rayed. I cycled home and decided to take the routes I used to take when I was still a student there. I cruised into and out of a neighborhood – the houses were small, one-storied, painted cream and looked very similar to each other. The roads were wide and quiet.
And I arrived at the business strip, which looked like little Hongkong. My dream self thought to herself that the place had changed so much since the last time she was there. In fact, it looked totally different.
I stepped into a toko kelontong that mostly sold storage boxes and containers. I just browsed lightly and went out. Outside, I saw a textile shop closing.
I rode my bike and went to a different spot of the strip. It was getting dark and the lights and billboard were lighting up. The colours and ambience seemed like something from Miyazaki’s “From Up on Poppy Hill”.
#Log 33
we were queuing on the tarmac to get on an airplane. the airplane we were about to get on was very exclusive, new in its type, huge and equipped with all the latest technology and comfort features. we couldn’t wait to get on it. it felt like a mix of emergency, the rush during the holidays and the excitement of trying something new. the skies were intimidating, dark blue and growling. and then it started to rain. we then saw something amazing. the thunders were getting really fierce and suddenly they burst into a series of explosions that looked like fireworks, albeit frightening ones.
#Log 32
mbak ala, flea & anthony kiedis, my brother & brother-in-law, my ex, some of my old friends came to visit our house.
the lamps were dimming so i instructed someone to get new ones.
when anthony & flea were leaving, we had photo ops at the terrace.