NaPoWriMo

140419: Poem #5

Let me cut all of my fingers for you.
My thumb, for everything you’ve done well.
My index, for every time I’ve picked you. Among others.
My middle, for all the anger you’ve boiled inside of me.
My ring, for the future I desperately long for.
My pinky, for the promise you broke. Over and over again.

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140417: Poem #4

I think you stopped wanting me
The minute I wanted you
Yet I miss the time
When you asked me for a kiss
Before I left your car
That simple, gentle touch
A kiss on the shoulder
I can’t tell the difference
Between my skin and my heart
They both want you.
I’ve loved you for years and years
The years have stretched into infinity,
Which is filled with your eyes,
Your mouth,
Your smell,
Your hair,
Even your teeth, I can’t escape from them.
What do you see through those glasses of yours?
Is it beauty?
Hope?
Emptiness?
Is it me?

I think writing poetry is a phase every writer needs to take. I used to write a lot of poetry before I got into prose, then eventually fiction (or any kind of longer form of writing). Even so, I don’t know why I stopped making poems. Only now I realize that poetry is a great tool to give one perspective. It’s almost like a journal. On April 17, the above was exactly how I felt. Today, a week later, I’m over it and it’s strangely hard to remember that I ever felt that way. It’s very different to fiction writing. Writing a novel is a long process, which gives you plenty of time to change your mind in the middle, and you can incorporate such changes to the story directly. Poetry has less space for it I think. Thus, it makes a great monumental record.

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140416: Puisi #3

Ambillah Jakarta,
Kota kesayangan saya.
Bukan tempat saya lahir,
Tapi tempat saya besar.
Tempat saya merangkak.
Tempat saya berlari,
Namun bukan tempat saya terbang.

Ambil saja Jakarta,
Kota kesayangan saya,
Di mana bintang ada di bawah,
Bukan di atas.
Panas matahari abadi
Dari pagi sampai pagi
Namun tetap mendinginkan hati.

Silakan ambil Jakarta,
Kota kesayangan saya.
Saya akan melipir
Ke suburbia yang sunyi dan membosankan
Supaya kita tidak perlu bertatap mata lagi
Kota ini terlalu sempit untuk hati besar kita,
Yang sama besar dengan ego kamu dan saya.

Ini, kamu saya beri Jakarta,
Kota kesayangan saya.
Tempat kita bertemu
Tempat kita mencinta
Bercinta
Bertengkar
Berpelukan
Benci,
Dan kini tempat kita berpisah.

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140410: Poem #2

I’ve been thinking about me
There’s no one but myself
I’ve been thinking about you
You seem to be by yourself too
I’ve been thinking about him
The inspiration for years
I’ve been thinking about her
Who’s clueless of vulnerability
I’ve been thinking about us
And how we’re never meant to be
I’ve been thinking about it
And I keep thinking about it
Constantly thinking about it
Still thinking about it
Why are we always together but apart?

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140403: Poem #1

Hi, princess,
These are your 25 dresses
Made by many educated guesses
Sewn by ever-loving seamstress
Bound by thread of chances
Dyed in happy and fortunate carelessness
Woven fabric that she messes
With warmth, with love, and tenderness.
A sight that leaves them breathless
Fragrance that invites kisses
Left on the mattress
Luring he who passes
Fabulous
Marvelous
Rejoiced somnambulist.
Oh, these 25 dresses.
A closetful of dreams she embraces.

Happy 25th birthday to me!

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