An Orchestrated Destiny

A coffee is sweet; in its bittersweet,

And life is so harsh to drop these bloody sweat.

When people are easily push to get some to eat

There are so many ways just to cheat

We wonder of a dimension

Among those non sense hallucinations

These confusions will meet its decision.

When no more domestic heartache,

Our destiny will be carefully orchestrated.

So that, we need more than just a long long wait.

You

You taught me that love is no more than just an irony

When we are too busy talking about memory.

You taught me that pain is fine;

What I need is just a case of wine.

You are the only thing that swimming around my mind.

You have all the things on the swirling skies of mine.

What you do is always in a nevermind,

Unless for making myself so blind.

*originally written long time ago, about two or three days before Indonesian Literature Day, in the middle of the night, or perhaps in that very early morning, while remembering some 'coffee' things about that witty tweety snake-head murrel.

Roses and Violets

Roses are red,

Violet are blue.

If you want me to wait,

I'll stay here for you.

Saya kadang memebaca yang-saya-indikasikan-sebagai-pantun dalam bahasa Inggris yang menggunakan kalimat seperti; "Roses are red. Violets are blue." di dua baris pertamanya. Ini ternyata adalah sebuah puisi, tentunya bagi mereka pengguana bahasa Inggris. Saya kurang tahu asal muasal puisi tersebut, dan bagaimana kebiasaan sosial masyarakat mereka yang berkaitan dengan "puisi" tersebut. mungkin ini juga yang lupa saya tanyakan dalam mata kuliah sociolinguistics semester lalu, hahaha

Setahu saya, pantun dalam bahasa Indonesia terdiri dari empat baris dalam satu bait dan bersajak a-b-a-b. Nah, kalau "puisi" berbahasa Inggris, sajak a-b-a-b nya bukan ditandai dengan huruf atau suku kata terakhir dalam setiap barisnya. Melainkan, kesamaan pelafalan pada suku kata terakhirnya. Kurang lebih sih begitu.

Penggunaan kata "Roses are red. Violets are blue." dalam puisi ini lumayan menarik bagi saya. Random mungkin, tetapi kadang saya juga mencoba mengganti dua baris terakhir dengan kata-kata saya sendiri. Menulis puisi seperti itu setidaknya cukup bisa menyamarkan maksud, atau apalah itu. Ceileh.

Barusan saya mecoba browsing di Google, dan waw ternyata banyak yang saya temukan hari ini. Hahaha, bodohnya hal ini tidak saya coba dari dulu -____-

Some for you,

Roses are red,

Violets are blue.

You are always is in my head.

Well... My heart is for you 

Roses are red

Violets are blue
God made me pretty
What the hell happened to you?

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I'm not a poet,
But I'll try it for you.

Roses are red,

Violet are blue.

People are equal,

Both Muslim and Jew.

Well, masih banyak sebenarnya. Bisa dicari sendiri kalau mau. Atau boleh mencoba membuatnya sendiri mungkin :D

Shakespeare's Sonnets

Lemme copy-paste some sonnets from William Shakespeare yaap. Again, one of my assignments. -_______-

SONNET #1

by: William Shakespeare

FROM fairest creatures we desire increase,

That thereby beauty's rose might never die,

But as the riper should by time decease,

His tender heir might bear his memory;

But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,

Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel,

Making a famine where abundance lies,

Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.

Thout that are now the world's fresh ornament

And only herald to the gaudy spring,

Within thine own bud buriest thy content

And, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding.

Pity the world, or else this glutton be,

To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee. 

SONNET #2

by: William Shakespeare

WHEN forty winters shall besiege thy brow

And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,

Thy youth's proud livery, so gazed on now,

Will be a tottered weed of small worth held:

Then being asked where all thy beauty lies,

Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,

To say within thine own deep-sunken eyes

Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.

How much more prasie deserved thy beauty's use

If thou couldst answer, 'This fair child of mine

Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,

Proving his beauty by succession thine.

This were to be new made when thou art old

And see thy blood warm when thou feel'st cold

SONNET #3

by: William Shakespeare

LOOK in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest

Now is the time that face should form another,

Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest,

Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother.

For where is she so fair whose uneared womb

Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry?

Or who is he so fond will be the tomb

Of his self-love, to stop posterity?

Thou art thy mother's glass, and she in thee

Calls back the lovely April of her prime;

So thou through windows of thine age shalt see,

Despite of wrinkles, this thy golden time.

But if thou live rememb'red not to be,

Die single, and thine image dies with thee.

taken from www.poetry-archive.com/

The-poems-that-should-be-analyzed

Last Tuesday, I joined Poetry Explication class. My nice-nanana-lecturer gave us a poem from Robert Browning, and asked us to find the imagery. Hoo, I guess I am not imaginative enough to do it. Hhh, unfortunately I have to. -_______-

Meeting at Night

by Robert Browning (1812-1889)

The gray sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

 

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!

Have you found the imagery of that poem, Heem? Okay, of course yes. My lecturer has told me in the class. Hahaha -___________-

Oiyap, I have an assignment to find the other poems to be analyzed. Parting at Morning by Robert Browning and The Sick Rose by William Blake. Here they are...

Parting at Morning

by Robert Browning (1812-1889)

Round the cape of a sudden came the sea,
And the sun looked over the mountain's rim:
And straight was a path of gold for him,
And the need of a world of men for me.

The Sick Rose

by William Blake (1757-1827)

O rose, thou art sick!
     The invisible worm,
That flies in the night,
     In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed
     Of crimson joy,
And his dark secret love
     Does thy life destroy.

Umm, anyway..is it important to post this matter, Tiara?? Hahaha

( ⌣ ́_ ⌣ ̀)