The short song of Francisco Jose de Goya
Alicia, where is your flower traces,
I'm looking for!
This is a hand-shaking of Francisco de Goya looking for you,
a witness of my canvas is increasingly blurred,
with chest tightness, cough and chronic bronchitis,
I was tired of running from the palace of marble,
I am a living witness,
will not forget sparkly of my eyes,
of a wild flower tales of a dream song of the mother,
and witness just sit in a chair,
ran through the crowd,
standing on the banks of the river, dedicated to the shaky weather,
should heart be imprisoned by the words?
(2009)
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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Lily
I found a lily in the middle of the night
the flowers are vibrant soul of silence
wrote of love, love, love
the night is a blend of sky and stars
the orchestration of silence
through the wall of the sky
back pains to heal
fly with the wings
dancing and spinning
floating among the clouds
absurdly drunk
dancing honey bees love
immortality is familiar in the holy month
no more sin and merit
al-wustho love dance
bow down and the tears
happiness and immortality
the soul and the beetles disappeared the night
dancing at the keyhole
find freedom
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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A Failed Poem
This season such as the humpback shrimp;
out of the window
You brood behind overcoat
walked around
Kinofuji florets and Yuki Yanagi
but you still select a series of Mokuren
Slowly you walk on the brick
began to brittle
And look, we had been walked
a few ten years
but only quiet, silence and acceptance
I am sure
it's not a fake
'Why Mokuren? '
I asked idly, you shook your head slowly
As I wrote the poem a hundred times
you do not understand
but still you touch my old eyes
an increasingly myopic
eternal love is a mystery
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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The Light Kampong
duh gusti
here very near to you
but very far you've come
me lowly
just a speck of dust
how quiet
in your room too far
my wanderings will not be able to reach you
my tears could not achieve my longing
duh gusti, my beloved
if you teach me arithmetic
only 10 fingers of mine
but can not afford the billions of
i remember
remember of you were only a fingers
constellations of the pulse
why do always come up empty?
in cold-room space
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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Return Back Immediately
'you've my heart pickpocket'
expect from the blue wall of moss
when thousands of forest insects down
on wedding rock season
river melting tears
she was looking for him at the park benches
she was looking for his bronze statue in the frozen
'where have you brought my heart?
don't you bake in a quiet'
the lights went out at once
shakespeare performing the poison of romeo
bat home blinded his eyes
'what you do with me? '
sat stuned in front of the table
glasses emptied
leaves mingle wind buffed
weighted open sky of lead
angel long to pick up
taxis frozen in flashing lights
'you've my heart pickpocket...
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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To Whom; It May The Wind Blows You
I saw the drunken man on the 16th street
used the dark red raincoat
He was drunk without a head
(but) riding his heart
Walk into Glen-arm
Blinded his words
There was no wind blows
But the words always stuck in an old Oak tree
(from) A distant land
The pieces of memories
Powerless into sound pieces are now
in the country that everyone should speak
Even to speak on his own
In the wind, even in passing by people
who do not know
I see the drunken man,
sitting in a pushed wheelchair
grumbling about love
It's not belong to the wind but
to whom I will never know
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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Along The Batanghari River
i'm the one boat!
flowing from higland to muarabungo
when the night tucked suspicion
the spirit that dwells in the depths
principal branches silently snagged
celebrated the grief
the shrubs missed the rise
no angel came
just torch the fishers
decomposed in the songs of passion
o months of the accompanying
half more disappeared
swallow fragrant rubber forests
linking paddle love
o follow the current
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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The Love Necklace
There is a small amethyst strand rope in black
There is a small river in the heart glow
There's a word shine every day every hour every second
There is a simplicity in love
There're small memories that can be forgotten but not to be worried
There are flowers that wilted eventhough they had ever fragrant
There's a grass that always happy even you step by your shoes
There is a fragile bridge but then it was glad when you're on top
There is a small river named creek that is always soft-spoken
There's beauty that always in your heart
There is a necklace of love that you carry wherever you go
There is a beautiful death later that you need not weep
There is an everlasting love I carry wherever I go
There is a fragrant flower in amethyst necklace of love
(Denver International Airport,2010)
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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To Leonard Cohen
moss ceramics history buried by tens of wounds, the precipitated event piles as plankton, dissolved oil dressing your head, walked on through the edge of continent, the questions strikes this frozen wall, a series of sentences that settles in the glass, the bleak tones, the trees of the world of dreams, the forest of words, you're standing on the edge of a small river, who looked up to heaven? Then open the identity of this song, at first glance is never seen, only the rhythm permeates the soul, and like the wind gently blowing, suddenly flushed dusk, resigned murmur, swallow the valley, the sound is lost in the echoes, the poem becomes oil consolation, led to an eternity, you take another step, slowly into the valley, singing will be gone, but you never worry, because the books have you singing rewrite it.
(2010)
poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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Sparkling In The Lotus Silence
o silence that dwells on high buildings
shimmering in my fears
dying flowers drifted in the gutter called decay
heart that is hidden
town looters
homeless dogs heart
i see that lay right in the middle of Semanggi
reconciled me
off in the desert
drifted of the soluble
in the trash
reconciled me
off in the dark
sparkling
silence is hiding
under the eyelids
reconciled me.
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poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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