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 Sep 2018 imo
E. E. Cummings
 Sep 2018 imo
E. E. Cummings
If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.
 Sep 2018 imo
E. E. Cummings
when life is quite through with
and leaves say alas,
much is to do
for the swallow,that closes
a flight in the blue;

when love’s had his tears out,
perhaps shall pass
a million years
(while a bee dozes
on the poppies, the dears;

when all’s done and said,and
under the grass
lies her head
by oaks and roses
 Aug 2018 imo
You're poking at my wounds
Causing them to bleed
Leaving bruises upon my skin
All due to your greed

Bending me till I break
Revealing my true sin
Tear away at my mask
You're standing there with a grin

Watching me as I cry
Laughing as I beg
I'm screaming out so many pleas
But your preoccupied by a keg

Crumbling to the ground
I'm in a desperate need of an escape
I still love you with all my heart
But how much more of this can I take?

You say you love me so desperately
The moment I turn to leave
But as soon as I am within your arms
You somehow cause me to grieve

I'm trapped within a loop
Of love, hatred and abuse
Wanting to leave but then to stay
Maybe I'm just tying my own noose

You act all high and mighty
But really you're being immature
I know in truth you have cheated
But you always make me feel unsure

I refused to be lied to
It kills me inside
Yet here you stand
So ideally by

Abuse me, Use me
Beat me till I'm blue
As long as in the end
I can be of some use to you

So here I am willingly
Standing before you
Except this time I'm sure
That you will be the one to lose
 Aug 2018 imo
E. E. Cummings
my mind is
a big hunk of irrevocable nothing which touch and
taste and smell and hearing and sight keep hitting and
chipping with sharp fatal tools
in an agony of sensual chisels i perform squirms of
chrome and execute strides of cobalt
nevertheless i
feel that i cleverly am being altered that i slightly am
becoming something a little different, in fact
Hereupon helpless i utter lilac shrieks and scarlet
 Aug 2018 imo
Rahayu Nur Madina
lagi lagi aku membuka catatan
membiarkan mata melihat apa apa yang sudah dijanjikan tiada

bagaimana menulis kisah yang hanya bernilai satu lembar kertas
kemudian tamat
tapi tidak dengan bayangannya
tidak juga dengan harapan tidak berakhiran cepat

mungkin ternyata sanggup
sudah lebih dari tiga puluh halaman untuk delapan purnama
satu untuk kisah berujung
sisanya biarkan rindu berkamuflase menjadi judul tiap potongan
atau mempertanyakan titik yang buru-buru ia sematkan

jangankan sekumpulan cerita pendek
hanya sebuah yang diperpanjang
sebagian kecil tentang kita
sebagian besar menunggu dan merindu

— The End —