He is quiet and so am I. A Poem by Mahmoud Darwish

Saya mulai mencari tahu tentang Mahmoud Darwish ketika saya mengunjungi Salihara. Entah di lantai berapa, terpajang sepotong puisi karya penyair dari Palestina ini. Cukup singkat, hingga akhirnya saya mulai kepo dan jatuh cinta sama beberapa potongan puisinya, salah satunya ini: He is quiet and so am I.

Bercermin, tidak pernah seindah ini. 

Interpretasi mengenai puisi ini? Entahlah. Mungkin tentang interaksi yang saling takut-takut? Interaksi yang mengaitkan begitu banyak perbedaan yang mengantarkan pada persamaan dan perasaan...

Puisi ini, menyelinap masuk ke benak, cukup menggelitik untuk dibaca, sekali lagi. Untuk dibagikan, sekali lagi.

#NyarisPuitis

#NyarisPuitis

#NyarisPuitis

"He is quiet and so am I. 

He sips tea with lemon, while I drink coffee. 

That's the difference between us. 

Like me, he wears a wide, striped shirt, 

and like him, I read the evening paper. 

He doesn't see my secret glance. 

I don't see his secret glance. 

He's quiet and so am I. 

He asks the waiter something. 

I ask the waiter something… 

A black cat walks between us. 

I feel the midnight of its fur 

and he feels the midnight of its fur… 

I don't say to him: The sky today 

is clear and blue. 

He doesn't say to me: The sky today is clear. 

He's watched and the one watching 

and I'm watched and the one watching. 

I move my left foot. 

He moves his right foot. 

I hum the melody of a song 

and he hums the melody of a similar song. 

I wonder: Is he the mirror in which I see myself? 

And turn to look in his eyes…but I don't see him. 

I hurry from the café. 

I think: Maybe he's a killer… 

or maybe a passerby who thinks 

I am a killer. 

He's afraid…and so am I."

-Mahmoud Darwish

Menurutmu, bagaimana?

Cracker: crack my head, hack my mind at Poetry Slam!

Challenged by one of the writing-partner-in-crime, i finally decide to try write a spoken word (after we joined a poetry slam show in Salihara Community last sunday - and it's totally impressing!)

In fact, spoken words tastes a lil bit urban for me, it's like you try to 'translate' swinging lilting poetry-language into a very sophisticated words, with the same goal: express the emotion, show the idea!

The emotions and ideas are such great things to deliver to public, because people like to hear the stories with a 'crunchy' way, in a contemporary thingie. In a nutshell, speak with an unique way!

So, well.. this is my very first spoken word, i think the title will be: 

CRACKER.

i think i like you

because every single crack on your face

seems like seaweed seasoning cracker

it's salty

but you remind me of the splash of the salt water in the ocean 

through your blinking eyes.

eyes

your eyes

i see a glimpse

i see sparks

i see the fire that ready to burn entire city 

and turn it into ashes

the potential in how you tell your dreams, 

your brain.

oh, your brain

i really want to chew every single cell 

beating from your brain and...

gulp, gulp

being drunken in every ideas 

that turns us into endless party

down there

the heartbeat

the rhythm

down there.

it's your heart

and i started to see myself as zombie

walking there

walking dead

afraid of your eyes that contains the tingling sunshine, 

bringing the conservative, 

the so-called butterfly effect

i'm afraid to burn into ashes before i could ever 

see your eyes seeing my eyes,

wondering how it would feels

to be showered by the heat, on that seat

with every cracker that we eat

and we repeat it again. 

repeat.

crack. crack. crack.

i wanna hack your mind.

and your voice

chirping inside my head

pecking up the logic, 

the arithmetic, 

the periodic table, 

the geometry 

and leaving me nothing scientific but feeling

thump. thump.

i think i like you

the salty water in the ocean that i should have not even try to try, for it can drown me into never ending thirst

your brain that contain hundred billion neurons 

and they keep twinkling zillion of zillion stars above the sky

above my eyes

your eyes...

your eyes,

and a reflection is about to...

beep. beep.

i think i like you

i think i like myself

i think i'm seeing myself in you

i think i am like you.

So, please, tell me,

when you started to feel the person you talk with is a real interesting person and suddenly you just feel really into them... think again, are you seeing yourself there?

And when that phenomenon happen, can you really 'separate' yourself and other?

One kind of impression that Poetry Slam gave me is... a nice experience, and how i see the world, finally wider. 

Wow.

a calm and windy evening, pieces of poems flew around!

Serendipity, a meaning of prayer.

prayer will definitely answered

  in an unimaginable way before

as long as you patient enough

or you will be surprised one day, it has been answered

prayers will always change

so do this life

then,

when the prayer in the past

has been answered now

and make your future worries

well, that's funny.

if prayer is defined as wind

tell me how to stop the chasing wind?

close the door.

 and pretend that you are facing storms.

silly, though.

and now i pray for serendipity

the best way to do with expectation

is to stop playing with it.

let just happen,

or let just be unbroken.