Who’s Gonna Be There at 2, darling?

I actually had this, long time ago and, just got this one done now.

At 2 am alone on my bed. 

With Lost In Love by SNSD on playing. Why? I don’t know. Just random scroll on my Spotify playlist.
So I just had a talk with someone who pretty much remind me of how I should face things I’ve been neglect for so long.

And longing of mine to actually engage with not a fling of summer, and actual settle engagement.

And damn, having such mind in such dawn, I wonder who I can reach for ease.

Who will I annoy easily open hearted.

Who I can call for not so sober me gibberish-ing about world.

To be easily presence without psychical existence.

To ease all.

To let me breathe.

For snuggle.

For warmth.
All engagement been thru either bland or a majestic failure. 

And in 2 I kinda feel all blue.

Who’s gonna be there?

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Sebagai bentuk tanya dan retorika bagi Mu.

Look what this city has done to you, honey.

That blushed cheek but not because how heat of the sun hit it, that is way more reddish from the last time I see burst of your smile.
Your eyeliner is way too sharp it can kill a man, they said.
And what are those, strobing and higlighter? For pointing out that dimensions of your face?

Look what this city has done to you, honey.

You and your tumbler worth bucks which you just go to at 22 for trashy coffee?
And you seems not in comfort at that killing heels.
Geez you add almost a deci meter away from me in term of height!

Look what this city has done to you, honey.

You blink your eyes for times, I see that you use contact lense and that’s kinda make your eye watery, I suppose?
And I know how really damn good you are in a body con and now you keep pulling down thag too tight skirt down.
Your hand hold too many things. Keys and tumbler on your left, phone on your right.
And I see you switching from app to app, swiping left on Tinder and tapping twice on Instagram.

Look what this city has done to you, honey.

And let’s see before this city dissolve its poisoning breathe to you.
It might or might not be irrelevant but here I go.

I used to see you with mountain sandals and short with many pockets pant.
Well you do smear some lipstick and make your brow.
Sometimes I see you in dress and you burst in grace and sassyness in one entity.
With that glasses you go throughly from books to notebook at coffee book shop nearby, providing that squishy bean seat and CHEAP BUT GOOD BUT CHEAP, your favorite, Vietnam Drip.
You love to drive around town, during times with minimum notions.
And above all, honey, that glitz spark from your eye to the world.
As nothing can harm and rape your bliss.
Your genuine smile,
And heart full of passion and affection.

And look what this city has done to you, honey.

To pawns of metropolitan rapid pace rotation.

I hope you’re okay, honey.

My dear honey which reflection I stare from the hanging mirror of my room.

Sweet thee sound.
Of crashing solid iron of train rail – and minimum notion of the living.
Well,
It’s a night train so nothing much happen.
Sweet thee sound.
Of songs off from my phone.
Echoing beat or gentle rhythm of notes.
Delivering certain kind of lyrics and atmosphere,
And mood.
Today is just so unlucky me.
I tripped hard and make another bruises on my body. Weekend love to crash me with bruises – at club or accident.
I bought the wrong ticket and ALMOST saying bye to Jakarta.
Somehow I trapped and bought expensive shit that not a necessity.
Above all, along the thumping beat of train rail – and certain mood being delivered by my playlist, I’m in deep emotion of baby blue.
No not that kind of baby blue thanks.
Just certain feel of whatever passed and done leave me nothing but empty and none and sort of disappointment.
To all entities and moments.
To people around that being so stupid.
To all talks and sips and laughs with people.
To my own self to let me feel that way and letting things go under the skin.
Yeah I know baby blue is not a really good phrase to use as metaphor.
But,
Between the dark of night face and sudden random song played one record of random Tinder finding singing Paper Heart,
Baby blue is one I find the fittest of all.
For able drawing all this out of nowhere sudden shifting mind.
I’m sort of hard people to convince of trusting and all.
And as things start to get real I will in such form of denial and pushing everything.
Geez what even this thing.
Anyway, congratulations you just spend times of yours for nothing.

Longing to None

I have longing.

I always have longing.

And in current moments, my longing runs to traces of memoirs.

Collection of silvers and golds.

 

To one who pop up in front of campus gate

With reactive curse to traffic

Cigarrettes After Sex and Betwixt

& simple casual ‘What you’re up to’

 

To one with long silky hair

& ‘saya-kamu- refference

For random chilling stroll at sheer sunset

& rather night drive out

 

To one I have hard time to recall

With barely sober date

After midnight talks & late night drive outs

& minutes for just staying in a car

 

To traces of silvers & golds

To somehow chill and thrilling ride

For embrace and deep relates

With, well, fail ends

 

I have longing.

And my longing belong to none

Betwixt.

I will be still stand on certain loop of my life.

Some moments I will always favor to remember.

Not so late Wednesday ride.

And couple hours of talking.

Some sips of coffee.

And… Many moments of wonders.

Talking about life and wonders.

Job and simple stuff.

And 10 mins of night ride. 

From Cigarettes After Sex,

til Betwixt.

And man,

That was one delicate sheer kiss of night I will never ever able to forget.

‘I don’t think I can’.

Ever.

Man.

Wishing and longing of you going back and forth.

And not merely in romantical way.

Simply, a fun loop to hop in.

A tender 10 mins of ride.

Arti Rindu, antara Rumah dan Jarak

Halo, kawan.

Aku hendak berucap rindu, rindu sampai pelu kepadamu.

Sejenak setelah melihat tidak sengaja foto kita dulu.

 

Aku mencari namamu di kontakku.

 

Tapi aku ragu.

 

Aku sungguh rindu padamu.

dan kamu pun akan berucap jua rindu.

Lalu kita akan berbincang atau bahkan bertatap wajah jika kamu masih bangun pada subuh waktu kotamu.

Namun, terlintas sedikit.

Bagaimana definisi rinduku kalah kuat dengan rindumu.

 

Rinduku hanya padamu.

Dan waktu kita kala jarak belum memberi ruang pada raga kita kala itu.

 

Rindumu bukan hanya padaku.

Tapi juga rumahmu, temanmu yang lain, makanan, dan kasur dikamarmu.

 

Rinduku disini karena impulsif.

Rindumu secara legit selalu ada karena,

oh kawan,

kau sendiri di kota lain.

 

Yang kala siang tidak ada yang jual seblak.

Atau malam martabak.

Tidak ada kerungan mamah kalo kamu pulang malam,

atau teman-teman yang membuatmu pulang malam.

 

Aku ragu menyampaikan rindu.

Bukan meragu karena aku tidak rindu.

 

Tapi aku sungguh tidak mau, menambah pelu rindumu

Akan semilir hangat tropis kotamu dulu.

atau batagor yang mudah didapat.

Kerungan mamah

dan gelak tawa bodoh kita dulu.

 

Aku takut rindu yang akan kusampaikan padamu

Tidak dapat membalas rindumu.

Ps. I hope the blow of city breathe finds you well.

The idea of you and me,
us breathe the same city air excite me.

That when I walk down the pavement,
Or sipping coffee at some corner,
Or waiting for my bus to arrive,
Or simply strolling around,

I may cross path with you – left my stomach uneasy.
Nope I’m not pregnant just this nerve thingy.

And I wonder what will happen.
Will neither of us embrace how faith put it bless upon us.
Or will it just become a simple hello-goodbye?

Either way,
As I step in to this city,
I know

Being in the same space with you has got me thrilled.

Sauran Kasih Pujangga Perjaka

Jika,
Seorang pujangga perjaka menyaurkan kasihnya kepada seorang gadis,

Yang rupanya diukir oleh tangan pematung batu megah Dewa Dewi Yunani,

Yang rambutnya menarikan gemericik aliran tenang air pada terpaan angin
dan memantulkan berkas cahaya matahari yang paling lembut sinarnya.

Yang senyumnya ditenun dari jahitan dan benang sutra tipis
dari seekor ulat bulu yang tatkala nanti jika hidupnya panjang akan berubah menjadi kupu-kupu cantik beragam warna.

Yang lekuk tubuhnya diciptakan untuk dapat tepat pada tangan erat.

Yang dalam tiap langkah kakinya menggerakan tanah untuk memunculkan benih bunga.

Yang pada tiup hembus nafasnya meniupkan semilir ringan dan hangat hawa pagi.

Dan matanya memancarkan yang tiap mahluk dambakan, cercahan nafas kehidupan.

Adakah Sang Gadis mau menerimanya,

atau sadar akan hadirnya,

dan sauran kata atas eksistensi diri-Nya?

‘u’

Lucu,

Tentang waktu.
Aku ingin berjumpa denganmu,

Dikala awan sudah berlalu

dan langit tidak lagi biru.
Aku ingin berjumpa denganmu,
Saat malam yang kelabu

bertebaran lampu-lampu.
Aku ingin berjumpa denganmu,
Pada senyam sepi semu

di kumparan kota yang abu-abu.
Aku ingin berjumpa denganmu,
Waktu angin sungguh mampu

tiupkan kisah masa lalu.
Aku ingin berjumpa denganmu,
Dalam puisi berima ‘u’

dan anyaman lucu oleh waktu.

Produktif pada pukul 4

Tingkat intelektualitas kita berbeda, sayang

Jadi hendak sebagaimana keras otak ku bekerja menerka-nerka,

Atas tindak ucap dan kebodohan,

Sampai nanti pun aku tidak akan menemukan jawab,

 

Karena tingkat intelektualitas kita berbeda, sayang

Aku sadar benar kebingunganmu dalam percakapan kita

Muka bodoh dan anggukan cepat – agar supayamu

 

Karena tingkat intelektualitas kita berbeda, sayang

Hendak aku mencerca sepanjang apapun dosamu

Mendukungnya dengan segala teori dan realita,

Individu semacammu tidak akan mengerti.

Aku tahu kemampuan kepalamu tidak sampai.

 

Karena tingkat intelektualitas kita berbeda, sayang

Aku tahu buang waktu saja berinteraksi dengan kamu,

Salah satu anomali dan distorsi temeh.

 

Karena tingkat intelektualitas kita berbeda, sayang

Tidak akan ada kita melebur.