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Midnight Malarkey

a peek inside the poetic freak

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Words

Once again I find myself
Sprawled on the floor
My tears, turned ink
Staining parched paper
Forming itself into words—such a painter

Once again I’m startled
To hear the grandfather clock strike
Hours past midnight
And my rhymes still unfinished

A List of “D” Words

Daisies
Dance
Dear
Deer
Diligence
Do
Dolls
Doughnuts
Dream


Day
Date
Discs
Descriptive
Domes
Drones
Due


Demotivated
Deprived
Desolate
Disconnected
Dismantled
Dismissed
Doomed
Drained
Dreary


 

It’s scary. Took me less than two minutes to think of nine “negative” words. Took me over ten minutes to match that number with “positive” ones.

Amarah Kata

Saya pecinta kata-kata
Terbuai, terlena
Tapi tak akan termakan

Karena cintaku pada kata membuat mengerti
Kata tak selamanya berarti

Terkadang hanya susunan apik
Dari silabel yang terdengar cantik
Namun memakan korban yang tak pernah mengalami
Indah bahasa itu sendiri

Lebih manis dari madu
Lebih sendu dari pilu
Lebih menggugah dari haru

Dan dapat
Begitu
Menipu

Saya pecinta kata-kata
Tak ayal menggarap doa
Maksiat untuk mulut-mulut bernoda
Pembawa musibah lewat bicara

Kalianlah yang membuat tak percaya
Kalian yang membuat kata-kata kehilangan makna

“Tunjukkan! Tunjukkan!”
Itu yang selalu dikatakan
Karena omongan kalian tak bisa dipegang
Maka si kata tak berani orang pegang

Teganya kalian, membuat cintaku tak tersentuh!
Membuatnya tersedu-sedu
Membuatnya tak dihargai seperti dulu
Menyakitinya, dan demikian, menyakitiku

Maka, membaralah!
Amarah
Dan kebijakan untuk menuntun arah

Jangan biarkan jalanku hilang
Jangan biarkan cintaku hilang
Jangan biarkan menjadi arang

Enyahlah dariku semua pendusta
Biarlah mereka mengalir pergi bagai hujan menyuci
Kotoran dan sampah ke dalam selokan
Untuk dibuang, lenyap dari kehidupan

Tetapi, aku akan terus menyayangi
Mencintai
Kata-kata, murni
Karena kata-kata itu sendiri

Kepada Kata-Kata

Terima kasih.
Setidaknya, kau ada untukku menuang segala.

Aku hanya mencarinya saat susah. Aku membuangnya kala hidup terasa mudah. Aku menudingnya hanya ada di saat susah karena kasihan, membuangnnya saat senang, mengatakan pada diri sendiri bahwa ia memang tak menyenangi apa yang aku senangi.

Padahal kau tahu minatku dan tentang minatku karena memang itu pula minatmu. Aku tak pernah tahu karena kau diam, menganggapku memang tak memerlukanmu.

Kamu hanya mencariku di saat senang. Kau menyingkirkanku kala hidup terasa suram. Kau menudingku tak mampu menghiburmu, menyingkirkanku dari seporsi hidupmu, meyakinkan diri sendiri bahwa aku tak mengerti apa yang kau pahami.

Padahal aku tahu masalahmu dan tentang masalahmu karena memang itu yang sudah ku alami. Kau tak pernah tahu karena aku diam, menganggap kau memilih berceritera pada yang lain.

.

Yang tak terucap tak dapat dikecap, karena manusia tak bisa membaca dari mata saja. Untuk itulah manusia perlu berbicara.

Yang terdengar tak selamanya diserap, karena manusia tak bisa mengerti tanpa mencerna. Untuk itulah kita memiliki dua telinga—satu untuk mendengar apa yang dicakapkan, satu lagi untuk mendengar suaramu sendiri.

1000 Ways to Love

I’m blue—a blue who’s still green when it comes to red. But you gave colour to get rid of my black. So many colours I can only see white.

And for that, I love you with a thousand ways. A thousand ways, all mine.

I’ll love you like a breeze that relieves you of life’s scorch. That way, the rays will still be able to give your bones the vitamins to grow strong, but you’ll be cool enough to keep walking along.

I’ll love you like how the stars twinkle through the atmosphere. They don’t dull their shine because we can’t always see it. They even assigned the sun so we know they’re there. Like how I’ll be there.

I’m here now, can you see me? Maybe not physically. And I know your cries won’t always get to me. But you’re here. In my thoughts, in my days, in my daydreams, in my dreams. You’d think one could get too much of someone. I need my space, but I want you to be near. Just a hand’s grasp away, do you hear?

I’ll love you like a first day’s whisper into your ear. Slowly drawing you from your dreams into a reality—your reality—that’s so beautiful no one could ever say you’ve imagined it, because it’s ineffable.

I’ll love you like how one wakes up naturally. Refreshed, rested, ready. To face life with all strife knowing there’s someone who supports and purports all the little mistakes just to make him better prepared for the day that’ll come next.

I’ll love you like a secret. You’ll be safe with me. Your name won’t be a careless whisper. I’ll say it like a sacred mantra—with care and pride.

Who else is able to love you like a puppy? Who looks at you with passion and emotion every single time your face I see? It may be love or hate or pain or joy—passion and emotion, like I said. But never will my eyes that face you be dead ‘til I’m dead.

I loved you long ago. I loved you still. I always will. People say love doesn’t always last an eternity, and I honestly agree. It just depends on what kind of love I have for you right now. But sometimes we’re expected to fall out of love. But how do I un-love you? Is that even something I’m able to do?

I’ll love you with the thousand words I’ve said, the thousands left unsaid, and the millions left unmade.

I can love you like all these things. A thousand ways to love to make life like a dream.

I can love you in a thousand ways, all mine. But no way is the right way to love you.

You’re not even mine.

Berbicara Tanpa Kata

Dalam rimba rima dan irama aku bersembunyi, menaklukan satu demi satu setiap ketakutanku untuk berbagi. Lewat kata-kata telah kubeberkan begitu banyak tanpa berkata terlalu banyak.

Menyenangkan sekali, menulis itu. Menjadi gerbang untuk bercerita. Seperti jurnal, tetapi kau tahu ada orang lain yang membaca. Dan selagi kau memilah kata-kata indah untuk mereka nikmati. Seperti hanya ada privasi orang lain yang membatasi.

Tetapi terkadang terdapat suara yang berbisik. Bahwa aku berbicara tanpa kata. Bahwa kata-kata yang dibaca oleh mereka yang tak terpengaruh atau berpengaruh sia-sia saja.

Benarkah?

Mari menilik: aku memang berbicara tanpa kata dalam satu cara; karena caraku berbicara tidak dengan mengungkapkan kata-kata, tetapi dengan menulis dan mengetik. Namun apa itu berarti kata-kataku kurang memiliki arti? Sesungguhnya, aku ingin mengatakan tidak dengan yakin. Andai saja aku benar-benar berpikir demikian.

Begini, pembaca yang setia; kata-kata bagiku adalah jalan menuju pelarian. Kata-kata selalu ada bagiku. Selalu begitu. Bahkan jika aku terkesima dan terdiam, aku tahu kata-kata itu tahu diri—mereka tak mau merusak momen dengan suara, dan langsung keluar dalam bentuk makian—seberapapun halusnya—jika mendengar suara jepretan. Kata-kata membantuku mendapatkan apa yang aku mau, menolak apa yang tak ku mau. Kata-kata yang bisa menyakitiku jugalah yang menjadi penghiburan bagiku.

Andai kata-kata berwujud manusia, aku mungkin sudah jatuh cinta sampai mati. Tetapi sampai mati aku tak akan percaya. Aku memiliki Tuhan, dan aku percaya Ia menciptakan kata-kata tanpa wujud agar tak bisa dikekang manusia.

Tetapi kata-kata yang tak dikekang kurantai. Ia tak bisa keluar kecuali ku utarakan, dan ia hanya keluar dalam bentuk seuntai kode untuk dibaca pemirsa yang hampir semua tak kukenal di dunia nyata. Lalu… apakah aku sungguh-sungguh sedang berbicara? Ya. Hanya tanpa kata. Dan tak pada mereka yang seharusnya.

Akhir-akhir ini aku sudah malas menghadapi konflik. Mungkin sekarang aku harus mempersiapkan diri lagi. Lebih baik aku dicela daripada disuruh diam. Toh aku bukannya tak tahu tempat.

Ya. Anggaplah ini resolusi tengah tahun. Aku harus menggunakan kata-kata sebagaimana mestinya lagi. Untuk bersuara. :)

I’ve seen the light. Now I know how great acronym slang is! It doesn’t matter how negative something is. Just add “lol” and it’ll automatically become positive.

— Monokuma

History of Words and Me #1

So I just felt like blabbering about my life and how words in all kinds of forms have shaped it so much. Maybe it’s not so much about “how” but I think you’ll see when you read it since it’s become part of who I am.

The child within screams,
“Tell me a story! Any story!”
But I had to settle with bad dreams
for I wasn’t fortunate to have bedtime tales.

I’ve always loved stories. Any kind of stories. Fairy tales, fables, myths, name it! I admit, I’m not a fan of horror stories, but in my defence, it’s because of my vivid imagination. But I’ll save that for later.

I’m an early reader. My mom used to work at a small bank that had a magazine stand in front of it. Dad used to pick her up from work when we only had one car, and I loved to tag along because then there’s a good chance she’ll buy me a magazine. My favourite, as many kids’ are, was Bobo—a blue, green-haired rabbit. I barely remember a thing about it now, but that’s my starting point to where I am now.

You see, I used to have nightmares almost every night. I remember them even now. They’re always the same. I wake up in my bed and see some kind of scary creature beside my bed—vampires, skeletons, monsters, kuntilanak, pocong, name it. (If you don’t know about the last two feel free to Google them since I don’t want to discuss the two. Ugh.) Then I wake up for real.

Anyway, these nightmares kept happening to the point where they bore me. I remember one time I actually sighed because I was already fed up, then I looked to my right and saw a dancing skeleton. I guess that explains my lack of fear towards it now, huh? Well, there’s a silver lining for you.

But these nightmares gave me vivid imagination. Sure, they’re scary—even now I can imagine freaky stuff with my eyes wide open—but in time they helped foster my love for stories. It’s freaky, but true. To tell the truth, I’m fine with watching horror movies most of the time. It’s when night comes I get anxious. You see, I’ve been sucked into movies in my dreams. It’s happened dozens of times. But who’d want to be in a horror movie? They never turn out to suck in my dreams; always manage to keep me awake at night. So, yeah, that’s it for how I got my imagination.

So, back to my early childhood—reading kid magazines. I’m a curious person. Was then, still now. I wanted to know what the characters were saying, the explanations to the pictures and illustrations. I often asked my nanny and parents to read them for me. They did, but were soon fed up with me. I kept asking questions, I kept asking them to read more. They said they were busy and tired. So I learnt how to read it myself. I only asked for words I didn’t understand.

(But my parents are great with that. No matter how mad they are at me, even when they’re cursing at me, I can always ask them about any kind of word I don’t get, and they’ll answer me. It’s kind of cool, really.)

Here’s something I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone: I was shit lonely. I didn’t go outside and play with other kids for some reason; it’s too long ago and I was too young to remember. All I had were my fairy tales. My parents spent time with me, sure. But they never read me any bedtime stories. I wanted them really bad. The closest thing to a bedtime story I got was my grandma’s stories.

My grandma lives out of town, but when she comes to visit, we’d sit together on the terrace of my old house and she’d tell me all kinds of adventures about Hengky, my neighbour’s pet monkey. I don’t know where the hell they got him from, but he’s there. He’s a cheeky one alright, so they keep him on a leash that’s long enough so he could move around, but short enough so he won’t jump into the houses to the left or right and steal stuff.

Oh, damn. This is depressing for me, you know? The trip down memory lane. It’s just… it’s the reason why I spent so much time with my grandma. It’s the same thing with my sister. We both loved stories as kids. Only, she grew out of it, while my love for them only grew. Hengky’s probably long dead now, but I still recall his stories and how my grandma makes funny sound effects just to make me laugh. When she’s around and I get scolded, she’d make the stories extra happy just so I’d smile again. Ah, I miss those days.

Well, that’s it for now. ‘Til next time, folks.

free-speech-words-are-weapons

A to Z: Surprised

So I found something that made me speechless. And no, I’m not telling you what it is. But out of curiosity and the need to express how I feel I’ve put together a list of words and phrases that (more or less) could be used to express surprise and/or puzzlement. If you have anything to add, feel free to do so. :)

  • : Astounded, astonished, aghast, agape, amazed.
  • : Bewildered, blown away, bowled over, befuddled, baffled.
  • : Confused, confounded.
  • : Dumbfounded.
  • E
  • : Flabbergasted, frozen, floored.
  • : Garbled, giddy.
  • H
  • I
  • J
  • K
  • : Lost.
  • : Muddled, mystified.
  • : Nonplused.
  • : Overwhelmed, overcome.
  • P
  • Q
  • : Rattled, ruffled.
  • : Stupefied, surprised, stunned, startled, staggered, speechless, shocked,  spooked, stricken.
  • : Tongue tied, terrified, thunderstruck, taken aback.
  • U
  • V
  • : Wordless.
  • X
  • Y
  • Z

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