Sunday, September 11, 2011

Watch Me Bounce Contest: Menang!

Tanggal 7 September kemarin, saya mendapat email dari salah satu editor Watch Me Bounce Contest.
Isinya adalah.... notifikasi bahwa puisi yang saya kirimkan dinobatkan sebagai pemenang. Horeeeee... :D

Berhubung dihubung-hubungkan, tanggal 9 September kemarin adalah hari ultah saya, maka saya menganggap kemenangan ini sebagai salah satu hadiah ultah tahun ini. :)
Hadiahnya memang tidak 'wah', tapi buat saya ini sih alhamdulillah sesuatu banget... *Syahrini syndrome :p



Untuk melihat daftar pemenang semua kategori dalam kontes ini, silakan klik di sini.
Puisinya berjudul The Broken House.


The Broken House
By Neni Iryani

Raspy whisper of wind is still rumbling
through a house fallen into a ruin
one night storm made it rubble–
salient proof of fall.
I now rare to know
if resiliency
will rummage
the broken
house!


Hadiahnya adalah review atau komentar gratis dari editor dan juri lomba sebagai berikut (link-nya klik di sini):


This poem is the clear winner of this contest due to the open-ended appeal that reaches into the lives of many who face tragedy. “The Broken House” can apply to anyone whether what they face is the actual loss of a home due to fire or the metaphorical home of one’s soul. No matter the case, he or she facing destruction often wonder, sometimes with anger, if the house will be rebuilt – if it is rebuilt, will it be what we hope, fall short, or become a palace. To write a poem that reaches everyone can lead to such general language that it seems to speak to no one. “The Broken House” walks a fine line that opens the door for the world to walk in while creating an enjoyable seat indoors to get comfortable. There is a sadness in the poem’s end that whispers of doubt. Reality is a brilliant tool in poetry even if people think dreamscapes don’t need it – often it is essential.
-The Watch Me Bounce Editorial Staff


Selain itu, puisi ini akan di-publish di watchmebounce.com selama satu bulan ke depan.

***

Sedikit sharing tentang perihal penulisan puisi ini, jika dilihat dari bentuk, puisi ini disebut Nonet. Ini adalah nonet pertama yang pernah saya tulis, dalam rangka mengikuti prompt menulis oleh One Stop Poetry.

Nonet adalah puisi yang terdiri dari 9 baris. Baris pertama terdiri dari 9 suku kata (ingat: suku kata, bukan kata!). Baris kedua harus terdiri dari 8 suku kata, baris ketiga memiliki 7 suku kata, dan begitu seterusnya hingga nanti pada baris ke-9 (baris terakhir) hanya ada 1 kata saja. Jika disederhanakan, jumlah suku kata dari baris pertama hingga terakhir adalah: 9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1.

Berhubung pemenggalan suku kata dalam Bahasa Inggris sangatlah berbeda dengan pemenggalan dalam Bahasa Indonesia (ya iya lah!) dan saya belum paham pola pemenggalannya, maka saya menulis puisi ini dengan mengandalkan kamus. Saat itu, saya berkutat di bagian huruf 'r'. Maka, jangan heran jika di puisi ini mengandung banyak kata yang dimulai dengan huruf 'r'. Jadi, sekarang kalian tahu, saya mencari-cari kata yang menarik buat saya di bagian huruf 'r', yang kemudian dihitung-hitung jumlah suku katanya, lalu dipadukan dengan kata lain hingga ia bisa punya makna atau maksud, kemudian 'disesuaikan' grammarnya, dsb. agar memenuhi syarat sebagai sebuah Nonet.

Puisi (Nonet) ini, sebelumnya sudah pernah saya publish di blog ini. Beberapa waktu kemudian, saya membaca pengumuman tentang lomba yang diadakan Watchmebounce.com dengan tema resilience. Kebetulan sekali, ada kata resiliency di puisi ini, yang berarti sesuai dengan tema. Maka, tanpa gundah dan ragu, saya langsung mengirimkannya via email. Kurang lebih sebulan kemudian, editor lomba memilihnya sebagai pemenang debut Watch Me Bounce Contest yang mengusung tema utama resilience.


***

Watch Me Bounce adalah online literary magazine berbasis di Kolombia, Amerika Serikat. Pendiri sekaligus Editor-in-chief website ini adalah Rocky Reichman. Ia merintis online magazine ini sejak usianya 15 tahun. Ia kini sedang menimba ilmu di bangku kuliah, mengambil jurusan psikologi. Muda sekali, ya? Nah untuk profil lengkapnya bisa baca di sini.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Hingar

Nanti dulu; jangan beranjak pergi
Euphoria dan gelegak rindu belum lagi reda
Nada-nada riang masih berdenting-denting
Isyaratkan kita menarikan kata dalam diam

'Ingar bingar yang kita dengar di halaman luar
Riuhnya renyah, ramainya pecah

Yang tak terdengar adalah jingga matahari
Adalah debur pantai saat pasang
Namun camar-camar mendengarnya dan mengerti
Iring-iringan angin merambati sayapnya, lalu mengisi telinganya dengan makna.



*Note:
Ditulis di sesi Reading Light Writer's Circle (Sabtu, 13 Agust 2011);
Tema: Puisi Akrostik (Nama masing-masing peserta).

Random Thought


I dont know what happens to me lately. It seems so hard to have a piece of mind.

Does something bad happen without I know it exactly?

Or is it a mere symptom of upcoming PMS?

Or my unconcious knows something, but my concious tries to ignore it as a truth? 

Or is it simply unreasonable feelings and worries?




Lehrer says, "Every feeling is really a summary of data, a visceral response to all of the information that can't be accessed directly." 





Tuesday, August 02, 2011

Silang Jalan

Tak ada lagi cinta yang benci
di antara kita, bukan?
di ujung jalan ini, rimbun pepohon
menuju hutan adalah saksi:
telah kita titipkan setiap keping benci
di kiri-kanan jalan setapak
sebelum sampai di sini
sebelum masing-masing hati
mengisyaratkan perpisahan

Jalan kita hanya sampai di sini
bersilangan!

Friday, July 22, 2011

Saat Aku Hujan

Photo is from here
Saat aku menjadi hujan
yang luruh dan meresap
di tanah-tanah berwarna gelap;
kau tak usah gusar, hanya coba hiruplah
manisnya petrichor yang meruah--
aroma hujan bercampur debu tanah

Saat aku menjelma hujan
yang jatuh singgah di dahan dan daun-daun
lalu menguap saat angin mengayun;
kau tak perlu risau, hanya tunggulah sebentar
akan datang pelangi yang mekar
di mega-mega biru segar...

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Moving Notification

Due to one and another reason, I'm making another blog. This new blog is designed especially for posts in English. Meanwhile, this blog--Lilalily--will be in Bahasa Indonesian. So, most of posts in English in this old blog will be exported to the new one.

The name of my new blog  is Purple Nook. It's actually an old name; I've ever used it for this blog before I chose Lilalily as a new name. Now that I'm making the new one, I can't resist not using it again. I love this name.

This new blog is not fully maintained, but hope you are pleased to dropping by and taking a little look in this new nook. Here's the Purple Nook.

Happy blogging... :)


Monday, July 18, 2011

Salah Mengira

aku baru tahu
aku telah salah mengira jingga adalah ungu
aku baru saja mengerti
bahwa dia yang dulu bukanlah aku...

The Courtesy of the Wooden Mask

Photo Courtesy of Tess Kincaid
This beautiful wooden mask
hanging on the wall of your past

It never once betrays you or me or us
for it only shows the real face of itself
not the real you or me--
not the real us

Now that you and me
want to see each other--
the real us
we're suddenly in doubt, worried
for we may betray
the courtesy of the wooden mask!



*Note:
Written for Magpie Tales #74

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

The Broken House



Raspy whisper of wind is still rumbling
through a house fallen into a ruin
one night storm made it rubble--
salient proof of fall.
I now rare to know,
if resiliency
will rummage
the broken
house!






*Note:
This Nonet is written for One Stop Poetry. 
Nonet is a form of a poem with a total of nine lines. The first line must have nine syllables, second line eight syllables, third line seven syllables and so on until you end with one syllable.



Monday, July 11, 2011

You Can't Grow a Tree in a Kitchen


You can't grow a tree in a kitchen
on a dining table made of glass
for a tree needs to grow its root
deep down rooted in the earth

You can't grow a tree in a kitchen
where the sun is blocked to enter
for a tree needs shafts of sunlight
to make a food in its green leaves

You can't grow a tree in a kitchen
but you don't believe me and listen
the smile in your face make me worry
for it will turn to be angry and gloomy
as the tree will soon be weary

You can't grow a tree in a kitchen
but you don't believe me and listen
as well as you won't understand
that we should sometimes be kind
to let something go for peace of our mind

You just can't grow a tree in a kitchen
but you don't believe me and listen...




*Note:
This post is written for Thursday Short Story Slam Week-5 Children's Literature. Photo is taken from this website.
Besides, I also submit this post for Thursday Poets Rally Week 48. 


***

Update:



It's surprising that I have won The Perfect Poet Award of Week 48. 
The following is my award. Thank you for the award, Poets Rally.
Find my Haiku for the award picture as follows... :)





***

The Summer is Ready 



dandelion clocks fly free 
as light breeze blows gently 
Oh, summer is ready!


***


I vote for Cherlyn!




*

Saturday, July 09, 2011

I See This Girl and Guy

This picture is a work of Bonnie.

I see this girl, a particular girl
standing in a corner of this gallery:
she looks so worried or weary
I can tell it from the swing of her earrings from pearl

I see this guy, a guy in all black
I can't tell how he looks or feel
he just seems so amazed he stands still
in front of the big painting of black

I suddenly realize it
this girl can't take off her eyes from the guy in a black
who can't take his eyes off the painting of black

I then wondered, but please forgive me for this thought:
if this is a story of love triangle in a modern world--
between a girl, a guy, and this guy's beloved artwork.





*Note:
This poem is written for Friday Poetically with Bryan Miller who provided three artworks of her friend, Bonnie, to be picked one as an inspiration of writing a poem.
Thanks to Bryan and Bonnie for this week's prompt... :)

Tuesday, July 05, 2011

In This Little Summer House

In this little summer house
I sit still and browse
through the vast field of wheat
remembering how we first met

The big yellow sun shines 
the birds sing in the far pines
I listen to their voice
giving me such strenght to rejoice

How much I miss you, how could I tell?
You're just so far away, I couldn't trace your tale




*Note:
This post is written for Mag 72 by Magpie Tales.





Monday, July 04, 2011

The Sad-Looking Stranger

I could only wonder:
What's there crisscrossing your mind
I believe it's not that clear as the plain water,
but black as the umbrella in your hand

I could only stare:
What's there in your look
It seems you long forget how to smile
no strange you look so crook

If only I could take a look to your mind
as easy as I open and see inside your big blue bag
maybe I could give you my hand
to find soon your lost luck back!

* Note:
This post is written for Writing Exercise (Monday, 4th July) for Creative Writing Ink.

Sunday, July 03, 2011

Tentang Lena dan Duda Kaya

Adalah kisah tentang Lena
gadis miskin yang menikah dengan duda kaya
pada duda ia tak cinta
apa daya kehendak orang tua tak bisa ia cela
demi membayar hutang keluarga

Duda kaya punya anak dua
Ia kerja, Lena mengurusi anaknya
hari kelima semua pembantu dipecatnya;
Lena bilang ia bisa kerjakan semua:
mengurus anak, rumah, dan isinya

Duda kaya makin hari makin cinta
pikirnya ia tak salah pilih istri kedua
pulang kerja rumah rapi, anak terurus kebutuhannya
meski malamnya Lena lelah dan cepat tidurnya

Tak terasa tiga bulan sudah usia pernikahan mereka
duda kaya mulai merasa
ia bukannya tak salah pilih istri kedua
melainkan pembantu rumah tangga...



Note:

Ditulis di sesi Reading Lights Writers' Circle (Sabtu, 2/7) dengan tema: Miskin sebagai gaya hidup.
Saya memilih menulis narrative poem sebab sedang tidak bisa menulis cerpen.... :)

Saturday, July 02, 2011

My Phobia and You

Yes we know exactly that I'm phobia of heights. Acrophobia, they call it. So, it's not a secret that I will avoid doing anything which will trigger my phobia. I hate balcony. I avoid looking through the window glass from a room in a second floor, not to mention in a 13th floor and so on. There's no strange that I hate apartment. I prefer spending more hours trip by bus to travelling by airplane. That's why I've never gone that far, unlike you, the most adventurous man and passionate backpacker I've ever known. Maybe, this is one reason of why I fall in love with you. People say we tend to fall in love with ourselves that we see in others, but apart from that we tend also to fall in love with someone who will complete us as persons.

I don't know where you are right now. The last postcard I received from you telling me that you are somewhere in Asia. You said you fall in love to the beautiful scenery around you, the fresh air, the singing of birds you hear every morning, the tropical atmosphere, the local ladies, etc. You even wished that you could live there with me for the rest of your life. You also said that you can't wait to do climbing in the near mountain the next day. You showed me the track you will pass to that mountain; it is in the postcard picture. This bridge--I even couldn't believe people call this frail piece of wood and rope as a bridge--will lead your way to the mountain and find the climbing spot.




The last line you wrote was a joke saying that next time I should pass this frail bridge to get me you. Smile emoticon. Full stop. Your name.

It has been two months since I received your postcard. You've never made me this long waiting and wondering your story of where you are now, what you feel, where your next heading or plan, the local food and girls, what you do to get some money, how you get lost and find new adventure, how was the rock climbing, etc.

This postcard is the most read since one month ago, although I suffer from a headache and I always tremble every time I see the picture. And those symptoms are getting worse when I read your last line words.

***

I don't know what happen to me this morning. When I stared at the bridge, I felt like I will be able to pass this bridge for you. I felt no more headache, trembling or nausea. Yes, for the first time in my life: I want to pass this bridge, a frail bridge. This thought made my blood rushed faster. I will be able to go by plane. Maybe I need to meet psychiatrist first, but it's not a big problem. I've never this brave; I will try my best to pass it, if this bridge really could get me to you.

But, how could I know that you are there waiting?




*Note:
This post is written for the Writing Exercise by Creative Writing Ink.
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