THE MOON IS HIGH * Bulan tinggi di langit ini kali bukan bulan sabit di pulau Gilimeno, di pasir pantai di seberang pengalaman, tangan yang luput menggapai Bulan tinggi di langit memang putih bulat gendering bertalu, bercak perang cemerlang cemara berderap, ombak berderai nafsu hidup, cinta makna keping-keping yang perlu dirangkai Bulan tinggi di langit madu Sumbawa di Mataram tanya-jawab menyentuh sengit bulan madu yang geram dalam senandung kesenjangan bila tivi sudah mati, percakapan terhenti, bila perahu sudah karam Ini kali kau memang mahir mengulur tali tambang penyelamat dari pulau ke pulau, aku tenggelam belum, terapung tidak tanpa jangkar tertambat Bulan sihir membelai property Melbourne & Sydney di atas pantai menopang pendopo dengan bugenvil alang-alang dan puring, cemas roboh sebelum naskah selesai karena usia diterpa badai bulan tinggi di langit terang benderang seperti gemerincing bunyi mata uang asing, menyebar karang tercemar dan mimpi turis petualang bulan madu, lirik lagu dan sisa melodi dicari dan nyaris ketemu __________________ * Larik pertama lagu tahun tiga puluhan: the moon is high/the sky was blue/ and here am I/but where are you.
THE MOON IS HIGH The moon is high And no longer new on Gilimeno Island, over the beach, on the other side of experience, a futile hand reaches out the moon is high and as white and round as a silver-speckled drum the remaining pines, the beating waves love, desires and meaning are fragments scattered in different directions somehow coming together the moon is high Sumbawa’s honey in Mataram question and answers touch old wounds this is an angry honeymoon an asymmetric lullaby when the television ends, conversation dies , the boat runs aground this time you are better at releasing the life-rafts from one island to another I haven’t sunk, neither am I floating and I have no anchor the magic moon caresses beach-side property owned in Melbourne & Sydney verandahs hidden by bougainvilleas weed and cotton-plants, drooping restlessly an unfinished manuscript, life battered by the hurricanes the moon is high as clear as the tinkle of foreign coins, and tourist dreams spreading across the polluted coral a honeymoon, the words of a song, a half-forgotten melody, we searched and almost found what we wanted
MANIFESTO aku tuntut kalian ke pengadilan, tanpa pihak yang menghakimi siapa tahu, suap menyuap telah meluas menjulang sampai ke Hakim Tertinggi siapa jamin, ia tidak berpihak sejak semula karena dunia, pula semesta, pria yang punya sejak saat itu – sejak Hawa jadi Bunda ah, sudah lama sebelumnya kecut hatimu menyaksikan kebesarannya induk Agung, yang melejitnya turunan makhluk-makhluk kecil, buta, telanjangdisusukan saksama, kemudian dijajarkan di seantero jagad raya begitulah mamalia dipersiapkan bagi Darwin dengan pertarungan hidupnya perkara kecil membelenggu wanita dengan tetek bengek yang malah disyukuri olehnya secara serius, dungu dan syahdu – sementara itu –karena memang kerdil, takabur dalam kelicikan –kau menggigil kekhawatiran lalu tanda jasa –status ayah- kau sematkan di dada tanpa ditunjang fakta biologis barangkali tidak apa, demi warisan, ego dan kelangsungan evolusi kemudian kau dekritkan:wanita itu pangkal dosa sebungkah daging, segumpal emosi sekaligus imbesil dan bidadari dilipat jari kaki, dikunci pangkal paha dicadari, gerak-gerik dibebani menjadi tari lemah gemulai ia tertunduk karena salah, gentar, patuh mengecam diri dan akhirnya boleh juga, ia dimanja sekali-kali lalu seperti anak-anak keranjingan, bukankah bahaya dan pengganggu telah disingkirkan kau sibukkan diri dengan permainan: sepak bola, biliar, gulat dan perang jihad ilmu, teknologi karena bebas kreatif perang, polisi, proton, neutron pingpong antara Moskow, Peking dan Washington gemetar tak sabar, ingin perang-perangan sementara menunggu saat saling memusnahkan laut dikurang, sungai danau diracuni lapisan ozon digerogoti, sampah konsumen
ke mana dibuang –percuma, itu urusan para antariksawan bumi itu kue enersi yang halal dibagi-bagi pada pesta ulang tahun, dengan lilin yang nyala -sumbu bencanalalu menyanyi panjang usianya memang, upacara memberi khidmat, seperti diplomasi, jadi sandi-sandi yang semakin sulit untuk dipahami kepada anak-anak ini berbaju seragam, bertanda bintang, berjubah hitam dengan wejangan, retorik, agitasi telah kita percayakan nasib bumi makhluk-makhluk kerdil, diburu kecemasan kastrasi hanya kenal satu bencana riil: impotensi membusungkan dada lewat psikoanalisa, karena solidaritas mafia dengan Bapa di Sorga akhirnya merestui emansipasi wanita aku tuntut kalian sekali lagi, -saatnya mungkin terlambat sudah perang telah berkecamuk, ekosistem telah buyar pengungsi dimana-mana, menipu, lapar, terkapar dan diplomasi jadi lawakan, yang sungguh tak lucu lagi sementara kami telah diam cukup lama, berkorban demi egomu dan sekian banyak abstraksi apa wanita kini harus selamatkan dunia tiba-tiba pembangunan jadi urusan kami juga! kalian kehilangan gengsi seperti badut yang tunggang langgang lari dalam bencana akhirnya panggil ibu juga tapidemi anakku laki-laki, tuntutan aku tarik kembali dan jadi pengkhianat –atau memang karena sudah terlambat September ‘80
MANIFESTO I summon you all to appear in court, no one will accuse you of anything, who knows, no one will accuse you of anything, who knows, perhaps corruption has spread as fas as the Supreme Judge, and who can say wether he will be fair in his assessment of the world, the universe that belongs to men since that time – when Eve became a Mother, long before then, indeed, your heart shrank before he greatness, the World Mother, who spawned millions of tiny, blind, naked creatures – suckled them diligently, then arranged them in neat rows so they could become mammals ready for Darwin and the survival of the fittest no big deal to enchain the woman through trivialities, earning serious, stupid subdued gratitude while – because you were indeed arrogant, foolish and deceitful – you also shivered in fear then reward for your service, you pinned the medal, the status of fatherhood, to your chest, unsupported by biological fact, it doesn’t matter, he has descendants, to inherit his property and save his ego the process of evolution has begun then you declared woman the source of all sin a body of flesh, a tangle of emotions, both imbecile and angel, cramp her feet, put on a chastity belt, a veil across her face, restrict her movements so they form a gentle dance let her bow her head for shame, fear, obedicence continually find fault in herself and at last, you can spoil he a bit and then like over-excited children – as they will be no danger, will not trouble us if they are kept in isolation so that you can play your games science, the creative development of technology war, pollution, protons, neutrons ping pong games between Moscow, Peking and Washington trembling impatiently, ready to play tin soldiers,
while waiting for the opportunity to destroy each other drain the oceans, poison the rivers and lakes chew holes in the ozone layer, find places to store all our trash – why bother the astronauts can do that the earth is an energy cake with lots of candles -each one ready to explodewhich you can legitimately share as you sing Happy birthday truly a worthy ceremony, a form of diplomacy a code, a ritual no one can understand we have entrusted the fate of the earth to these overgrown children dressed in uniforms adorned with stars, black robes morality, rhetoric, and treachery dwarfs, haunted by the fear of castration admitting only one true disaster: impotence made proud through psychoanalysist, part of mafia solidarity led by the heavenly Father I summon you all again – although it may already be too late there have been many wars the ecosystem has been destroyed, there are refugees in every land, deception, hunger suffering diplomacy is a joke that is no longer funny while we have been silent long enough, sacrificed ourselves for your egos and your abstractions must we women save the world why are we suddenly responsible for your development program? you are unworthy of respect like clowns falling over yourselves in some final disaster calling out for your mummies but – for the sake of my sons I withdraw these charges and turn traitor –orperhaps it is simply too late September 1980
I HAVE THREE LOVES I have three loves, like a child counting on her finger I’ll recite them one by one: the first is serious deep in his heart he has loved me for years loving me makes his sadness possible or perhaps he merely pities me I want to dive down and dissolve in his sad love and sorrow he looks so lonely, but it is too easy to deceive him The next is a clever philosopher and endlessly patient I can never let him out of my sight “mind his easy words” people say, but why should I worry when he has the right words for every occasion but he’ll go awal, finally, after the taste of his lips and there’ll be the usual nothing again he doesn’t care that much anyway Should I mention the third, rather than be secretive now, for he comes at night when the hinges of the door are oiled his voice is virile, his look is forceful hauling me to that secluded heaven but then I’ll be counting the days again for each month to come, yet I know I shouldn’t worry and when will I meet my three loves in the one man?
CINTAKU TIGA Cintaku tiga, secara kanak-kanak menghitung jari kusebut satu persatu kini yang pertama serius dan dalam hatinya tidak terduga bertahun-tahun ku jadi idaman mesraku membuat pandangnya sayu mungkin ia merasa iba padaku ingin aku membenam diri, melebur dalam mesra ayu, iba dan sayu ia paling mudah untuk dikelabui – yang lain, berfilsafat ringan dan kesabaran tak pernah kulepas ia dari pandangan petuah orang, -lidah tidak bertulang tak kupedulikan karena ia kata-katanya tepat untuk setiap peristiwa sesudah akhirnya mengecap bibirnya ia tinggalkan aku dan sesudah itu? Ah, biasa saja, tak ada sesuatu terjadi memang ia tidak begitu peduli – perlu pula kausebut yang ketiga, bukannya lebih baik dirahasiakan saja, karena ia datang hanya malam hari, engsel pintu pun telah diminyaki suaranya tegang, berat, menghela ke sorga-tirai ranjang pandang pesona tajam memaksa, akhirnya menghitung hari setiap bulan meskipun itu urusan nanti ketiga cinta yang aku miliki kapan kujumpai pada satu orang?
LONE FISHERMAN For Asrul The marvelous clouds pass by the moon long accustomed to this : loneliness capturing the glances gathered in the net of bright night, glances bored with an empty longing moon, when the night is silent and man gone, who does the juice of your sugar yellow body belong to, crushed in the caress of the clouds the clouds begin to part, you are caught trembling, in the branches, and sink, taken by a fisherman together with the white fish in his net the beach is empty, he is returning home quickly, nothing remains except for the moon (he almost forgot it), with a friendly gesture the fisherman lifts the moon’s quivering body and throws it back into the ocean again
NELAYAN TUNGGAL Untuk Asrul awan-awan yang mengagumkan melewati bulan yang sudah biasanya demikian : -ditinggalkan sendiriansambil menangkap pandang-pandang penuh terkumpul dalam jarring malam benderang pandang jenuh oleh dahaga hampa bulan, bila dunia telah sunyi tidak ada manusianya lagi, untuk siapa kemilau tubuh langsat diusap awan awan pun mulai minggir, kau terjerat antara ranting, tergelincir, dan tenggelam oleh nelayan tertangkap, bersama ikan putih-putih dihela ke darat pantai telah bersih, nelayan hendak pulang segera, tak ada yagn tertinggal lagi o ya bulan, dengan gerak ramah (hampir tertinggal menggelepar) dipungut, dilempar kembali
JOGGING IN JAKARTA Ahhhh, it is dawn, the roads of the city are unfamiliar, I need a map – the names are different now soon there will not be enough dead heroes the streets and lanes, highways and byways are like unfulfilled promises scars on our heart – the streets on the old map have turned to sepia Yes, the roads are still empty except for joggers, hoping to escape premature death, and pounds to lose stepping on fragrant flowers covered with dew Now the city is waking to its opposite the sun is slowly rising, the street lamps are suddenly extinguished, the few cars ignore us, as the speed through traffic lights down one way streets watch out, here comes a trishaw loaded with vegetables pedalling quickly chasing customers in the early morning market look--the streets-stalls are frying bananas and yams for the construction workers who squat, grumbling – new development projects, continuity with no delays, guaranteed as long as there is a little extra bribe the city is clean, as soon as someone drops a cigarette it is picked up, nothing is left by the hordes of scavengers shadowy figures fitting through the trees eyes down, inspecting the bins and gutters baskets on their back, pincers in their hands Ai, it will soon be light, there will be no escaping the demands of the day’s work – the sepia map of the National Monument, fountains, cross-overs road to Kebayoran or Kuningan
a torn map, like our old hearts with their dark corners and narrow passages which will clog one day, then stop – Karet, Menteng Pulo, Tanah Kusir, cemeteries Somewhere to stretch out, unless we’re buried upright Because there is no longer enough land Butworst of all, who knows when or why, I may not be buried in Jakarta, at dawn or some other time, the soul would search nostalgically no longer recognizing where it was – looking for the sepia coloured map of Jakarta with its no entry signs billboards and graffiti life’s old scars carved on the heart
JOGGING DI JAKARTA Ahhh, subuh jalan-jalan di kota tanpa peta, asing juga – nama-nama jalan telah diganti, sampai kehabisan pahlawan mati jalan dan lorong, jalur-jalur kota seperti pesan dan janji-janji yang tidak dipenuhi, torehan di hati – jalur-jalur kota di peti tua berwarna coklat sepia Ya, jalan-jalan masih lengang orang berlari-lari, membebaskan diri dari kelebihan beban mati terinjak bunga tanjung, langka bertebaran,t erbawa harun dan sedikit embun Kini kota terbangun di songsong hari yang mulai terang, lampu-lampu jalan tiba-tiba padam, mobil satu-satu belum peduli, meluncur kencang melanggar rambu-rambu dan arah terlarang Minggirlah, ada becak sarat ditimbun sayuran didayung kaki cepat-cepat mengejar jualan di pasar pagi Lihat di simpang kakilima pisang dan ubi mulai digoreng untuk buruh bangunan yang jongkok bergumam – laju pembangunan pesat, akselerasi dan kontinuitas terjaga, selama ada komisi – kebersihan kota pun terjamin: punting rokok dipungut cermat, tak ada yang tersisa oleh lasykar membawa keranjang sosok-sosok bayangan menelusuri pohon tempat sampah dan selokan mata tertambat ke bawah, cekatan punting terangkat oleh semacam jepitan Ai, terang sebentar lagi, diburu tuntutan berkarya sepanjang hari – peta sepia antara Monas, panucaran, jembatan, arah Kebayoran atau Kuningan peta lapurk, seperti jantung tua dengan sudut-sudut gelap di mana arus terhambat, kemudian terhenti – Karet, Menteng Pulo, Tanah Kusir, apa pun jadi
asal terlentang, jangan sampai ditanam berdiri karena tanah pekuburan semakin langka Tapi – paling risau nanti, kiranya bila entah karena apa, tidak jadi dimakamkan di Jakarta dan dini hari atau lain ketika, roh dengan nostalgia akan mencari-cari, tidak mengenal kota kembali mana peta sepia, Jakarta, dengan tanda silang, catatan dan coretan, garis-garis torehan luka kehidupan
1980
