The Black Rose Flowers
In front of my house I have a little land
Not a wide land, just half meter and six meter widest
I had build it for put or take the flower pot
There is three flower pots
This bought my wife from flower tree salesmen
In the morning, when my wife cleaned away the land from garbage, grass
I told her I want to build the flower garden in my village
My wife angry
You have to arrange this house before build the garden far away from here
I told her, just dreaming
I haven’t money anymore
It just a plan, if I have a lot of money
My wife keep silent
She continue to clean away the land
Clean away the land from grass and garbage
And give her read, yellow, white
blossom
In front of my house
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poem by Prasetya Utama
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Lokngha
What properly I bridle about Lokngha
its coastal Lokngha sand to turn white
With the coiled waves
Breaking coastal lip
A group of hooded girl
Sit to gang in coastal periphery booth
Drink the young coconut water
At the same time shar the story love
In coast Lokngha
Or manufacturing plant of tidiness cement the Lokngha
What sordid its road to middle go out to sea the
to search Boat
Throwing away anchor
before at dawn
What properly I bridle about Lokngha
About foreigner cycling
Or myself
What is like foreigner
Touching tip of lip of my motherland
What will kiss
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The Fish Pound and Violin
My grandpa stay in the house
Near the river
Where its water flow end in the South Ocean
His garden hedged with Bamboo trees
In front of the garden planted three tuft trees
The children like to climb the tuft tree
Pick up the fruits and eat on the tree
Glad and laughing
My grandpa was silent and said nothing
He just smile subtly, and gaze at far away
There is a fish pond in the backyard,
In its edge planted pineapple and banana trees
My grandma always give brand and papaya leaf to the pound
Giving food for the fish like Gurame, Sepat dan Nila,
While my grandpa make a biola, gitar and bass
In the litlle studio, near the kitchen
I passionatedly gaze the fish jump around
And glad
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Couple Of Chicken Religious Meal
The couple of chicken religious meal
On the ruwatan of my mother
Offering to me
8. Couple Of Chicken Religious Meal
I left the hen one at my grandma house
and bring the cock going home
after arrive at home
that cock
I bring everywhere
aver meet the another one
keep fighting with my cock and win
sometime meet with the cockfighter
neighbour, who have gerobak repair house
where they iron for
and teakwood for
in the center field
they fight my cock and theirs
the winner is always my cock
Their face look very regretful
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The Crayz Age
Two music street man to enter into the crowded passenger bus
They crowled among the passenger who stand closely
who were wearing “lurik” clothes and hold his flute
Not play his flute but he held up o’s hand
As a weapon, shut to the passengers
The passenger were tired and boring
With sum of music street man on the bus
Orherwise they shut their mouth
Or like a deaf and dumb man
Or they quiet of tired, boring or vain hope
Which had couldn’t reach the attain
one of them were crowled to the back site
and the other one went to the front site
His chin pulled out, he looks to the passenger,
Oh no, he saw along to straight pass
And then he opens his rumpled books and read it with his loud voice
With his an indecent song
Potest to military regime were cruel
Or mentally corrup of birocrat
Seks scandals,
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The Sebokarang Villages
Every evening
I always go to the Sebokarang villages
bike to break through the twilight
In the Bamboo threes
and the field of sugar plantantion
its flower blossom, yellow and
to bend in the street
to be fenced in kembang sepatu
and than turn to her hause
the wall of her house made from teakwood
and around her house planted
The Ceplok Piring flowers
in front of the door of her houses
I knocked its with my thremble fingers,
With my thremble heart
Where my blood flow fastly
The evening wind
Blowing softly
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Friendship
In my dream, last night, I met my friend,
He invited me to go to the carpenter
Together with my wife are looking for frame
I’m tired and felt better to wait in the carpenter workshop
I’m waiting for a long time
And then I decided to follow closely
And find they still choose the wooden frame
From outside workshop I could saw his spectacle frame
And I ask what the relation with mutually dependent,
The cemetery Land, The Wood Frame, My friend and My Wife
Is the dream will be continue, everyday
Whereas in the real life, yesterday
He had sends sms to me three times
Told me that nowadays he became the bureaucratic man
And still catch his PHD,
And still help his wife dissertation
Which he hadn’t been finished yet
Since we meet in the 80-th,
Before you marry
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Fruit Marriage: Children 'Outsourcing
Abundant rain this afternoon
After the workers shouting in the street
'Deliver us from outsourcing! '
Our marriage failed because we were oppressed
Like the birds in the cages cattle
To cut and served at fast food restaurants
Owned gentlemen,
While the gentlemen just calculate profit and only profit
No matter our fate every year there swept horns 'outsourcing'
Oscillate from one factory to another factory
With the same labor agreement 'outsourcing'
Our roving from one factory to another factory
To save our children
In order to survive, but what she said
'Outsourcing' just like fresh-powered workers
Who would be paid less, older workers, useless, slow
Only useful for garbage collectors
And cleaning the table, in the afternoon
When a fast-food restaurant, crowded
Young children, who sang brisiknya
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Lampor
I often walk from market to my home
through chinese shop matters which sold; gold
Kelontong variety and rice
Book Store and printings office
And then store through which basic necessities are sold at government-fixed prices, and the barber shop, gambling Boss
Through water wheel to arrange flow of water to the rice field
Flow of water have curves in the river till the South Ocean
Where all kind of fish
Play from morning to night
Among of the evil spirit and demon
In the South Ocean,
The Palace of Nyai Loro Kidul
Quenn of all evil and demon in the South
When night come, “Lampor”
walk with howl of the wind
Children who heard their voice
Were run to their armpit mother
And drunk milk from nipple
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Life Is Still A Mystery
Grow old, diseased and eventually die
is there a secret life behind
when a thousand years ago
Buddha, trying to uncover the veil
while Solomon, the Prophet
uncover the veil and trying to communicate
with all beings in the universe
whether we get the secret legacy
although Moses tried to uncover myths
the magicians and managed to split the ocean
cross into the promised land
world of myth and magic still disguised new
while Jesus cure the sick
and raise the dead
he himself died on the cross
and Muhammad, The Prophet
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