Lipstik

24 Desember 2012

Lipstick

“Lipstik Kakak hari ini bagus.”

Kak Luno menengok padaku kaget. Ia tertawa. Aku heran sampai hari ini kenapa belum ada orang yang terbiasa dengan caraku berpendapat. “Oh ya?” Kak Luno bertanya dengan senyum, badannya sedang membungkuk siap menyuap makanan.

Kami sedang duduk di terotoar, makan bakso gerobak diam-diam di jalan kecil belakang gedung-gedung Sudirman. Lipstick Kak Luno akan luntur, tapi “biar natural, gak menor,” elaknya tiap kali aku menolak ajakannya untuk makan di emperan. Orang seperti Luno Orelio tidak semestinya makan di sini.

“Makannya pelan-pelan, nanti lipsticknya luntur,” kataku sambil tersenyum. Dia asik mengunyah. Abang baksonya bukan yang kami tahu selalu lewat.

“Bodo, nanti juga ditouch-up lagi.”

Lipstick Luno hari ini mendekati merah bata, tipis saja di atas bibirnya, sekedar memberi warna.

Kami membayar makanan kami dan berjalan kembali menuju gedung—Luno kembali dan aku mengantar, lebih tepatnya. Di ujung sana ada ruas jalan ramai lurus tanpa ujung, di sini kami dipayungi pohon rindang dan suasana perumahan. Kali ini kami diam, mungkin terlalu kenyang atau takut Luno akan terlambat.

another translation to that opening act

I crave for you
Like thorns searing through buried memories
I know
I heard all of it.
I am here dying slowly
You are the moonlight in this darkness.
Flee and I will come to find you
The cold heart,
the thunder that leaves traces in its wake.
Love,
I have been addicted to you.

(balasan)

Aku menantimu
Bagai kelopak layu yang menutupi duri-duri kenangan

Aku mengerti
Aku mendengar semuanya

Kita yang mati perlahan-lahan

Akulah kegelapan yang menyelimuti cahaya rembulan

Kau menghilang bagai asap yang pias menuju malam

Bara dalam hati
Ombak yang mengecup bibir pantai tanpa meninggalkan jejak

Cinta

Badanku meregang perih karena kehilangan


12 Juli 2014

(terjemahan opening act salah satu perusahaan boiben swasta)

Aku mengidamkanmu
Bagai duri yang menyayat kenangan-kenangan yang tertutup

Aku tahu
Aku mendengar semua

Aku yang mati perlahan-lahan

Kaulah cahaya rembulan dalam kegelapan

Aku berlari mengejar kau yang menghilang

Hati yang beku
Kilat yang tampak dan meninggalkan jejak

Cinta

Aku telah candu padamu

Kamu bercermin di bola mataku
Seakan-akan tatapanmu tulus
Lalu aku mundur, dan sadar
Pada akhirnya aku memang cermin
Tempat kamu bisa puas berlatih menatap

25-06-2014

Lalu kamu menguleni mukaku seperti menguleni adonan. Kamu berhenti saat kamu menekan pipiku dan aku manyun sejelek-jeleknya.

“ini namanya pemanasan muka.”

candu bakar, 2

“hey,” panggilku pelan. Kamu tersenyum kosong pada bingkai ranjang.

“hey.” Aku menyentuh pipimu yang selalu panas.

“hm?” jawabmu pelan. Aku mengecupmu dan kamu tertawa aneh di sela kecupan. Aku berhenti dan melihat mata hitammu, uban kimiamu, sedih karena aku sedang tidak mengecup kamu.

Dengan kuatir aku menyentuh pinggangmu yang dihisap kering koyo-koyo hijau dan kamu segera memukul munggung tanganku. “geli tauk,” katamu, dengan rengekanmu yang hanya muncul saat kamu bukan kamu.

8 mei 2014

untuk kak luno, seperti semua puisi-puisiku yang lain

Ngilu [ngēlo̅o̅]:
adjective

The cringe-inducing sensation commonly felt: i. by people with sensitive teeth when consuming very cold items; ii. upon hearing fingernails screeching against a blackboard; iii. when a bone is fractured; iv. when empathizing with another's physical pain

Mereka kira kamu diabetes, tiap pagi harus menyuntikkan sebotol cairan kecil di paha. Kamu bilang ini penghilang rasa sakit, padahal ini pemakan rasa sadar. Kamu murka dan mendorong Abang Tirta saat dia bertanya ada kardus apa di bawah kasurmu. Andai saja kamu lebih teliti, lebih pandai berbohong seperti Dian. Aku yakin setidaknya ada tiga orang yang hidupnya bergantung pada morfin di antara kita.

Saat aku mengangkat tepi bawah kausmu, aku harus berpura-pura tidak iba melihat semua koyo hijau yang menempel seperti lintah di punggungmu. Matamu lebar dan buram, gemetar. Aku tahu kamu belum sadar.

The Rhythm to My Blues

the land I fall upon
the fins to my feet
the prince to my tale
the rhythm to my blues
the i to my love you
the saucer to my cup
the mass in my muscles
the rhythm to my blues
the cheese to my pasta
the lights to my home
you're my dance for two
the rhythm to my blues
the larynx to my throat
the vein to my neck
the hands i hold on to
the rhythm to my blues

Just something I wrote at the end of 2013 to the thought that R&B stands for Rhythm & Blues, homages to my favorite song lyrics that include mermaids and angel wings, and homages to my favorite people that include larynxes and muscle masses.

Orelio

Title: Orelio
Rating: C for Cute
Language: Indonesian
Genre: …not so sure…
Word count: 4,778 words

Dongeng

Lipat jemarimu di sini, hingga garis-garis terlukis di kulitku
Paksa bulan menonton dansa kecil kita
Saat aku luruh bersama beling di matamu

4-9-2012
Donna Nadira
Untuk langit yang adil

Posted via LjBeetle

Candu Bakar

Baumu lucu. Sesap, tapi keras. Tepat di antara kopi rebus dan candu bakar. Aku merindukanmu seperti kita pernah bertemu. Dan kamu akan menempelkan baumu di aula-aula kayu, sambil aku duduk di sini menonton termangu. Aku menarik napas, mencium bau tajam mirip opium yang jauh, menantimu melipat bekas-bekas di lenganku.

Sep 4, 2012

Dubstep Candy

Luring me in with dubstep and the obvious outlines of your lips and coming out with things that taste like europop and hard candy? You have no sense. I know that you are all pronouncing limbs and I am just this piece of awkward shit but you know, I have my own sense of dignity too. You don’t come around hiding in your powder cakes of PAC only to fool more and more doubting adolescent girls. I’m barely two years apart from you.

I hate you, Keling, I hate you.

But you know, dubstep is sacred and I am glad you are not further fucking any more of that. People misuse them too much for me to understand anymore.

Fabric Creases

I have experienced many times the feeling of wanting to be in the place of something else, no matter how humiliating. Now I want to be a piece of machine sewn cloth or leather, crimpled and warily warm from your sleepy hugs. Can my fingers mold honest patterns, the way thin cloth and interior linings make crease marks on your limbs? My mother had warned me of the sickening pain of unrequited love, even more sickening in the realization of sharing it with other muggles near and afar. But I will fold creases to the clothing of your joints, darling I will.

Aug 23, 2013

Self-exhausting

So I figured that you like, you really like exhausting yourself. Like, you prefer burning down in three minutes than savoring your energy for ten. I have a feeling that you really enjoy that feeling when you can't inhale from your nose and you could only inhale from your mouth, all the air cold and dry against the ceiling of your mouth and down your throat, and dry and cold down your trachea and both your bronchi before they enter your lungs. And your heart will always try to fail you, beating too hard, beating too wild, beating against your ribcage as if they wanted to rebel against you. That feeling of wanting to have a new, or no hearts at all. I like it too, somehow. But I hate it the most, especially when I'm running, and my knees squabble as I try so hard to finish the lap, and my knees and my calves will feel warm and stretched in a not-so-nice way, and then they will somehow burn when I finally calm down.

Tell me why am I here writing again. Stranger. Fuck you.

Efficiency

You know, in some sense, I think we share a painfully similar sense of efficiency. Doing exactly what is needed. Working, as much as possible with no strings attached. Speaking only when necessary. Or when asked to. Paying back the left hours of everything--sleep, life... In a sense, I hated myself for not starting my decade earlier so that I could write the way you would stretch, but a lot of people started after me and are better than me. It just kept making the doubts over myself return and multiply. And what you do did not need literacy anyways. I could only handwrite neatly at the age of 9. Eventually, we started our decades at the same age, only you at a faster pace. I hate you, I hate the people that share this same unrequited love with you, I hate the winters and time zones that separate us. I hate you.

Twirls

I started twirling in my room on the nights when I was alone at the warm part of spring. Spring was cold when it all began, but I had wanted to see the twirls ever since my birthday last year. Even though it physically will never change a thing, twirling and moving my limbs slowly is the closest I can get to you. It’s a secret. It’s a secret you can’t wait to spill, but a secret I want to keep to only myself. Our twirls, your twirls I see, are all a secret I can only keep in my heart, for it was my only secret door to you.

Aggelorium

Call me the most saddening thing on earth, but I have idol-related poems and at least to me, they're beautiful. I'll explain one of them to you.



Aggelorium

These eyes watch you as you lay asleep on the shores of pearl
And though you are never to see me, I stand silently and for you I pray
As soberness seep into you and give you view of my world,
I drag myself further from you, and thus I swim away.

I take my first steps as I believe they might bring me to you
Should I drop my tears, should I melt into the blue?
Secrets are left hidden as we dance through many nights
From where we had come and to where we will end is out of our might

Are the snowflakes still prettier to you the way roses are to me?
Melt with me and come back home, leave this land in eternal freeze

30-5-2012
Donna Nadira
for the fair lands


So the poem you've just seen, and the two others below, are all related to EXO. In Aggelorium, I was trying to depict the story from Neowi Sesangeuro and Baby Don't Cry from the point of view of the girl, or the human being/mermaid.

The last verse was dedicated to Kai, both the graceful dancer and the male lead of Hans Christian Andersen's The Snow Queen. Not many fans know of this, and possibly I'm still the only one as I type this away, but I think the lyrics to Machine are inspired by this very story, and it is very possible that if they took so many things from HC Andersen, they might as well have taken the name of my our hero from there.

Thank you for reading.


To those of you familiar or not familiar to Indonesian, you may stop reading here.

Salju di Tahun Baru

Dua puluh tiga bulan dan sepuluh hari kemudian aku jatuh dengan sulit, Kakak.

Terkadang aku ingin tahu apa jadinya bila Tuhan jadi membatalkan aku

Tapi aku hidup, Kakak, seperti kamu

Di celah-celah bumi selatan, di musim dingin aku mencintaimu

Tanganku bergetar sambil aku membuat pengakuan yang takkan sampai ini, Kakak,

mungkin syarafku gugup, atau aku canggung seperti selalu

Tapi apa yang kau benci menyampaikan kamu pada aku

Di antara dua ratus enam tulang kita aku mencintaimu

Apa gunanya kamu daging kalau kamu maya, Kakak?

Kesembilan ratus satu ligamenmu menegang dan mengerut, dan 899 ligamenku menunggu

Apa yang nyata kalau kamu juga maya, Kakak?

Di antara musim dingin dan ribuan tendon kita aku mencintaimu

17-8-2012

Donna Nadira

idana

io


Aku meleleh di tanganmu karena aku orang bumi
Aku dingin di matamu karena kamu demam redam
Aku gusti di katamu karena aku realita
Aku uang di darahmu karena aku ada


18-8-2012
Donna Nadira
Untuk langit yang adil

Cerita Cacil

Title: Cerita Cacil
Rating: R for violence and cussing
Language: Indonesian
Genre: Angst
Word count: 4,544 words

Tidak semua orang bisa mengikhlaskan Cakra begitu saja.