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Malioboro Night










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ADMONITION

Hi there! me? *w andering how could it could be* H i , me! N O , NO , i'm not me, my name is .. .. (interupting) you are me! you said it! off course i'm not you, and i'm not me, but i'm myself hey, why are you talking to me? w hy not? w hy you? you're just  -- a paper doll y es I am. and you don't have mouth to speak yes I am and you don't have heart too am I the one who don't have heart? o bviously yes! why you say so? because you are - not living things - but I'm here in front of you, you can hear me, and I am ALIVE ! how can you alive? you are just a paper doll of mine! w hat you say? I am a paper doll w hat was I made from? paper , you think?! what paper made from? p ulp! what pulp made from? wood grain i think and wood grain come from? t rees!!! am I look so stupid?? ...
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A POTRAIT OF CULTURE

Malioboro Sign The sun had just appeared heated his cold skin, which wrapped in thin white short-sleeved shirt and a brown jacket. He went down the red ceramic stairs which was very dusty, for some time he stopped correcting his lace of cream sneakers that has become white because frequently washing. He was looking for his motorcycle keys in his pants pocket that smooth, the only part that is smoother than cotton pants he was wearing. Rode his bike to the office he reversed the course, passing 'Plengkung Gading' (Dutch colonial era artificial gate) a big building st ood white as ivory, flanked by walls of rock stairs that hard enough and comfortable to step on. He traveled to a place where he often passed each time from the cool of his hometown to this city where the heat sweltering his whole body. Malioboro, a name which made a trace on his heart. He thought about the past when his grandfather told Malioboro, black and white portrait of the life of the past. ...
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student's poem

I teach a tutorial vocabulary class in Universitas Gadjah Mada. Last week, I asked my students to write poem of their own. I find the most wonderful poems of them.  Sensitized by Lolita Saras They are friends of the sun They are friends of the rain Escapists of a prudent soul They are dressed in shield shell And drown when they intend themselves to The attendance of the sea Presents the shaded view below the surface Thousands of Albatrosses are meant for injuries Oh brothers of life I’m about to be thrilled then die * Silent Nightfall by Setyani Sometimes you would wonder About each other sentiment covering your pleasure Sometimes you would expect For glimpse of light while yield into abyss called yourself Sometimes you would weep When world turn its back while no strength left Form of your dream lamented Lake beneath your moon quaked Sky above your desire mourned Simple tarnished laughter escaped ...
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