Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
erik diskin Jan 2019
perjalananmu pasti cukup melelahkan, bahkan menjadi buta pun bisa melihatnya dengan baik. ini, disini, rebahkanlah kekhawatiranmu yang semakin hari menjadi gusar dalam doa-doa yang tabah. akan kuganti dari setiap amin yang kamu titipkan pada malam diam-diam. hati yang kemarin kamu pertaruhkan untuk menemukanku dalam mereka laut yang kesulitan kamu pelajari siapa Tuhannya, yang telah bersusah payah kamu coba taklukkan.

tidak apa-apa. tenggelamlah sesekali, mungkin lima, teguk pilunya, dan pelajari dengan bijak. pada akhirnya, jiwamu yang diberi nama manusia akan piawai membawa diri. paling sedikit, penjaga yang tahu kapan dan untuk apa waktunya sepadan dengan raga yang tersedia.

aku akan menerima sebutan sialan, menyebalkan! dalam hidup bagai keputusasaan jarum dalam jerami dengan senang hati, malah. setidaknya, kamu adalah pelaut yang cukup handal karena aku, dari jatuh-bangun-tenggelam-terbentur-salah nama dan angkatan telepon yang kesalnya harus diangkat.

bahkan, syukurku akan terpenuhi menjadi sebuah tetes melengkapi lautanmu. aku adalah satu tetes yang akan cukup membuatmu rumpang kapan saja, yang akan kamu kejar dengan bodohnya kapan saja. katakan saja terdengar ganjil. siapa peduli. aku tidak akan menjadi mudah karena aku adalah pembalut kulit dan hati terlukamu dan akan selamanya menjadi tugasku.

namaku lebih dari sebuah harap. aku tak akan pernah dan ingin menjadi harap, sebab payah adalah nama kedua dari harap. aku adalah, “kamu bisa mempunyai bagian besar dari kue ini.” atau, “tentu saja. aku punya alasan untuk mengemudi dengan hati-hati dan kembali.”

namaku sederhana.
sederhana dan akan selalu nyaman.
setelah hari itu yang penuh prasangka dan tanda tanya dari dunia yang kamu kenal dan tidak.
namaku adalah seorang pelindung dan pahlawan yang gigih nafasnya, nama yang ketika rindumu akan lapar dan kehausan menemui pelepasnya.
aku adalah kemenangan dan hadiah kemurahan hati.

rumah.
1.8k · Mar 2017
Your Broken Belle
erik diskin Mar 2017
this is a page about how you broke her bones brutally.
blinding her days into the darkness she couldn’t settle for a stand.
“this is your sin.”
love was great,
love was strong.
but,
she felt small and very alone.
she has been good with broken things.
she is a big bang of catastrophe, an eruption of God’s tears.
if you just didn’t promise, she was whole without your shadow.
a promise is a sin.
and there is a sea of promises bare of thunderstorm needs to be nurtured because she has been damaged with your bona fide lies.
a dudgeon.
her voice is hoarse, a singer of your sobriquet name.
nights are no absolution and her cries are getting softer.
she wanders aimlessly to the 12 am's.
for her, this is exactly what death looks like.
a midnight snack and frozen story with her bedroom’s wall.
she locked herself in a funeral she called a slumber.
your love was a fanciful story, but one night away from the present time.
“this is your sin, and now she’s a sinner.”
she has been fragile and your love was boastfulness.
she was a rose and you brought her wrong.
this time, it’s her period of middlescence.
maybe you love her but your goodbye was more intimate on her guessing mind.
she was no longer a human, nor ghost in your grasp.
she is a belle of disaster.
but a million miles away,
you will beg her to come back home.
and missing her will be the only thing you need to shrive.
she has struggled to pluck your name and deep in the ground up you know she will.
and you expect her to be whole for your bathos tub.
the riot forms within your lungs,
and you had enjoyed as a fabulist to her.
she was your joke and games.
she's altering your lies into poetry.
her dictums soon to be as soft as the dusk teaches her tenderness.
to tame the seas inside her,
you have to tame her kingdom with thousands of armor.
and her Lord listens to her prayer.
when i write about things, i imagine first to be the most destructive thing. and i pour all my honest feelings about the thing. and writing for me isn't always about being me, or you, but about taking place to be something you never was. i hope you like it, and let's push each other to inspire.
390 · Mar 2020
~
erik diskin Mar 2020
~
i hope you’ll find me in tranquility where our horizons collapse. the shade of beauty in our tragic that has been molded these written paths in the palm of our hands. the one we struggled to divorce and the one we will be in a marrying type. the kind of serenity made us two but whole, a wave gently delivered to its shore.
381 · Jan 2021
Multitudes
erik diskin Jan 2021
I’ve watched you grow to be this person I always know you would eventually bloom.
Look at those seas eager to reach you, only to taste what comes after your storms.
Every kingdom wants you to be the only heir to inherit every grace every spring every madness and the cosmic lives within you births power to your very being. To forgive is to not forget.
They’ve seen your anger as my wrath. A delicate abruptness. Breaking their masks, trembling to face what a divine being I’ve blessed you to be. They wear their karmas as their shirts, to show what price it is hurting the one I’ve nurtured with great love and kindness. So they’ll learn how expensive my forgiveness is. Chances after chances, your compassionate nature is the thing they crave but once had. They would cheat for it, to me and themselves.
They’ll learn you in many souls that aren’t you, by then they realized they’ve been chasing rocks and soil without knowing how to grow a tree.

You contain multitudes,
You contain my love.
337 · Oct 2020
this year
erik diskin Oct 2020
this year... has been odd.
we’ve met some people we loved but crashed. the right people found us but crashed. this year is like fast cars chasing real roads. it’s superficial and fragile yet.... annoyingly honest.

of wrong people right destination. of right people wrong destination.

of two hearts that are struggling to beat the same. or a new heart stated his love in the name of God but is scared of the air he’s breathing.

i don’t know what His intention is for bringing human-kind a legendary debt within a year.
but i think it’s because my faith was once weak. or so i thought it was strong. He asked for a more faithful heart. that the only right time is to make time, and the only answer is to believe in vulnerability.

so many questions need to be answered. and so many prayers are being postponed.
but if it’s a matter of faith, then i’m here with Jeremiel as my lover. i’m not taking any less until he strong enough to let me be on my own first, and let the rest handle after spending the best.

a lot of healing needed to be done.
this year, is about growth in the uncomfortable intersections.
but those who see,
find their way.
337 · Oct 2020
a completion
erik diskin Oct 2020
so much i learned about love from people who don't know how to love. i've learned from lost souls, unhealed fears, saints to sinners. love is not a holy father but a confusing religion yet to unravel.
the way i finally learned to see is to be completely blind. that holding too much saturation in front of your eyes caused you color-blind.
that i can't fix someone who is too comfortable at the state of being broken.
falling in love with a poet like me meaning i'm gonna remember your tiniest speckles. your blurriest memories. your brightest hues. packed them into a fine story that i can re-read and then write again.
from great california to meaningless banka. or a ***** like jakarta. with you, i prayed to the right God but with a wrong religion. so instead, He changed the current. my faith is re-new and flesh-fresh. He kept making it hurt until i numb enough to know that it was not meant to be. so i let go. of any claims but my worth.
you taught me that even it was love that you had offered, love is not enough reason. to hell about your "oh, the grass is greener on the other side" because it'll decay. the next morning, the silence already too loud. the oceans already too vast.
but i'll show you what is that to have a heart.
as messy as it is, as grande as what it capable of.

here i am, far from your grasp. a story you no longer can hear because deaf makes it way to your ear. blame it on our parents. the difference is, i'm no longer listening to them anymore. they too made of distorted glass and wrongdoings. the difference is, no matter what was the time and place, i chose you from any other things. but now, i ******* choose me.

the rest, it'll fall in the most sensible and right way.
for love is not perfect but this home deserves spotless love.
a purified love, the same amount of fight.
a light guiding every lost bird in the uneasy nights.
325 · Mar 2020
a security
erik diskin Mar 2020
i've waited a hundred years
but i'd wait a million more for you
nothing prepared me for
what the privilege of being yours would do
if i had only felt the warmth within your touch
if i had only seen how you smile when you blush
or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough
well i would have known
what i was living for all along
what i've been living for
your love is my turning page
where only the sweetest words remain
every kiss is a cursive line
every touch is a redefining phrase
i surrender who i've been for who you are
for nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart
if i had only felt how it feels to be yours
well i would have known
what i've been living for all along
what i've been living for
though we're tethered to the story we must tell
when i saw you, well i knew we'd tell it well
with a whisper we will tame the vicious seas
like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees
this is the lyrics of turning page by sleeping at last. through years, it has been the security i'm looking forward. may that security comes by light and easy breaths.
erik diskin Mar 2020
i have my purpose
i have it settled long before my God taught me how
long before our mothers gave us name
so we can collapse.
to be constant wave and intact rage.
shame and pride work no vision to us human,
but handled great isolation of dead bodies.

some say i traveled in April and far enough past to reach this foreign person just to prove she's real.
and taught him my soul is made from rose petals and its thorn.
one is too soft, one is too rough,
but wasn't enough and will never be explained.
proper enough to defray my price but it's not the currency i'm questioning.
because its worth of thin air and empty glass.
because dear, honesty would say you can't afford the glory and gold i have been painstaking to build.
but still, i'm waiting for a worthy treasure to keep in the chamber i hid by cheating the devil.

— The End —