When I’m hurt, my typical initial reaction would be to call a friend avoid people. I would even leave my habitat and start over, meeting new people until I’m hurt again. There is a reason for this, at least. There is something about pain that makes you crave it. You see, for me, like love, pain is a life gift. You get hurt, you want to feel the pain, to celebrate it. Sometimes you do it by hurting yourself. But, unlike love, pain is not a limited substance – it grows. Sometimes it’s not enough to hurt yourself, you hurt others because you cannot contain the over-growing pain within yourself. I seemed to understand this mechanism hence I kept running away. Continue reading
PLATH: THIS IS NOT I
Seven years ago, I was invited to perform my poetry in Jakarta on one of the two nights of a literary event.
I just finished, at that time, a poetry performance project with some young musician and artist friends and had successfully performed in two cities. However, the committee of the event in Jakarta wanted me to perform alone, just me and my poetry, or in the man-in-charge’s own words: “could you just come without your boyfriend?” He sounded bitter, and he was wrong – my then boyfriend had nothing to do with art except that of making me cry. Love, love, love… Continue reading
CHICKEN AND FREUD: IS ROASTING MENTAL?

A friend of mine warned me recently: “beware, baking is addictive.” I looked blankly at the roast chicken a la Jamie Oliver I’d prepared for us and replied, “but I roasted.” She just smirked. “Roasting, baking, grilling — whatever you call it. Just as long as you use your oven.”
I wasn’t sure where she was going with the oven metaphor and I didn’t ask. Continue reading
THE OLD SMOKE
(klik di sini untuk versi bahasa indonesia)
i have no memories
to start a conversation
there were only thrills that grew
while the chances had begun to paralyse
they say silence means yes
but you’re not asking any questions
except about the wind, except about others
i don’t have the answers
i still often hang about the kitchen
pretending to cook yet sobbing
only because we were not talking
as if we were a couple of burdens, as we are now
they say if you love you remember everything
every kiss which if discussed
would wound the meaning of ‘ex-lover’
while being kept would turn into bruises
the night has stopped by, “another cigarette,” you said
a fire squeezed my hand, twice
i thought time was up, although time
has nothing to do with my heart
yogyakarta-dorset, 2014
ASAP LAMA
(click here for the english version)
aku tak punya kenangan
untuk membuka percakapan
hanya ada bungah yang terus tumbuh
sementara kesempatan sudah mulai lumpuh
kata orang kalau diam saja berarti iya
tapi kamu tidak bertanya tentang apa-apa
selain angin, selain orang-orang lain
aku tak punya jawabannya
aku masih sering berdiri di dapur
pura-pura memasak tapi mengisak
hanya karena kita diam-diaman
seperti sepasang beban, seperti sekarang
kata orang kalau cinta ingat semuanya
setiap ciuman yang kalau dibahas
akan melukai makna ‘mantan pacar’
sementara dipendam bakal jadi memar
malam sudah singgah, “serokokan,” katamu
ada api meremas tanganku, dua kali
kukira waktunya sudah habis, walaupun waktu
tak ada urusannya dengan hatiku
yogyakarta-dorset, 2014
FOR THE LOVE OF THE RAIN

Believe me when I say it was miserable, but also believe me when I say I loved it.
I’m a mess. I love walking in the rain on my own.
In my garden in Indonesia I used to sit in the tropical rain, raining. That made a painful view for the people who loved me, but when they had loved me better they’d leave me alone.
The rain is my sacred place since my childhood. There’s something about being alone with the rain that makes me so in touch with the exiled feelings inside me.
Those that do not suit the dry days reality, or the reality at all, or so it seems.
Those that make me alive, exist, brokenly whole.

–dina oktaviani
ROADKILL
(klik di sini untuk versi bahasa indonesia)
a golden light through the farmer’s window
a song from the war as i pass under the abandoned railway bridge
a field of rape rising up from behind the young hedges
none of it touches me
i am breathing scars in my brain
my heart is useless
it is so worn out i can’t walk in it!
papa would you love me if i befriended your god;
and mama would you ask how i am if you were not dying?
there is no road kill from somerset to dorset tonight
but they’re all dead in tanjungkarang
the wind is waiting, i suppose
nothing am i fearing
dorset, 2013
THE FINAL WIND
(klik di sini untuk versi bahasa indonesia)
nobody knows how much i loved him
since the night i opened every door to my dreams
there was a space bigger than the sky in my heart
for him, forever became him, forever was him
i ran to catch him, i smelt his skin
knowing not when to stop or how
i took off all my clothes, i was naked before him
knowing not when he’d understand or give up
i made love to him, from skin to blood
i let him kiss my scars, he made me leave god
i was overjoyed with all the flowers and the strife
i used to smile and laugh until i cried
then i sat there in the garden, in the rain, raining
the wind changed for me, so i changed for it
he was blown away from my nerves
he was gone before we said good bye
the sand in the beach i want to forget
the letters at the door i have swept
nobody knows how much i loved him
nobody knows how i stopped – i can’t explain
yogyakarta, 2011
TABRAK LARI
(click here for the english version)
cahaya emas dari balik jendela pemilik ladang;
lagu perang melaju di bawah jembatan kereta yang terlantar;
ladang bunga minyak muncul dari balik pagar daun yang baru tumbuh
tak ada yang menyentuh
aku menghirup bekas luka di dalam otakku
hatiku tak berguna
begitu ausnya tak bisa dipakai berjalan!
papa, kau akan mencintaiku kalau kudekati tuhanmu;
dan mama, kau akan tanya kabarku kalau tak sedang sekarat?
tak ada tabrak lari sepanjang somerset-dorset malam ini
tapi mereka semua mati di tanjungkarang
angin menunggu, kukira
aku tak takut apa-apa
dorset, 2013
ANGIN TERAKHIR
(click here for the english version)
tak ada yang tahu betapa aku mencintainya
sejak kubuka semua pintu ke dalam mimpiku malam itu
ada ruang yang lebih besar dari langit di hatiku
untuknya, selamanya menjadi dia, selamanya dulu adalah dia
aku berlari untuk menangkapnya, kuciumi kulitnya
tak tahu kapan atau bagaimana harus berhenti
kutanggalkan semua pakaianku, aku telanjang di hadapannya
tak tahu kapan dia akan mengerti atau menyerah
aku bercinta dengannya, dari kulit hingga ke darah
kubiarkannya mencium bekas lukaku, dia buat aku meninggalkan tuhan
aku berbahagia dengan bunga dan masalah
aku biasa tersenyum dan tertawa sebelum aku menangis
kemudian di halaman aku duduk, di tengah hujan, menjadi hujan
angin berubah padaku, maka aku berubah padanya
dia terempas dari kegelisahanku
dia lenyap sebelum kami berpisah
pasir di pantai ingin kulupa
surat-surat di pintu sudah kusapu
tak ada yang tahu betapa aku mencintainya
tak ada yang mengerti aku bisa berhenti – tak bisa kujelaskan
yogyakarta, 2011
