Monday, 30 July 2018


Aku pergi ke jenggala di atas babut terbang, namun tak seperti milik Aladdin.
Keputusanku ini mungkin masih nisbi
Teruntuk divestasi memori tentang dua orang yang memungkiri untuk jatuh hati.
Ini bukan karena mereka tinggi hati.
Taksonomi tentang perasaan-perasaan
Menghindari disimilasi otak dan hati.
Harmoni tentang idealisme yang mungkin tak abid, tapi ada aksioma yang diteguhkan.
Aku mutlak ingin ke jenggala…
Tak ke pantai seperti yang ia agungkan.
Dislokasi memori ini memang butuh perjalanan.
Tak ada masygul yang dirasa
Hanya ketenangan…
Karena aku tahu aku berada dalam aksioma yang tepat.
Ya, memang ini elusif, namun inilah caraku menghapus stagnasi itu. 


Aku terkesan dengan apa yang sudah aku lakukan!
Seharusnya aku ke pantai, bukan ke jenggala.
Aksiomaku salah, betapa ironi!
Dan kini, hanya ada masygul yang nikmat untuk diratapi.

Writer: Lista R
Image Source: Pinterest

Sunday, 29 July 2018

Mr. Bonaparte

Hey you, Mr. Bonaparte!

Thou are smart
But is thy soul lionheart?
No matter what
We could be a counterpart, eh?
Seeing the big picture
Oh, I see we both are an achiever.
Put em’ on a Gantt Chart to look clever.
Now, thou wonder,
Is it a blooper?
No, mister, it’s a censure.

Then thou shalt know the answer—
I’m that girl of English Literature.
This post is pointless, but wait, is it really meaningless?
Here’s to be sure, there is’cute’ in ‘acuteness.’ 

Writer & Illustrator: 
Lista R

Saturday, 28 July 2018

Di Luar Logika

Aku ingin menulis sesuatu tentang hal diluar logika.
Katakan. Katakan.
Bahwa aku adalah sang bodoh sesungguhnya.
Bahwa suatu porsi terkadang mutlak tak dapat bersatu dengan porsi lainnya.
Aku jatuh hati sejatuh-jatuhnya.
Namun kujauh dengan logikaku sejauh-jauhnya.

Aku jatuh dan lalu tidak jatuh.
Melayang diantara dinding logika dan perasaan.

Apakah aku sekarang ini?

Mencintai dengan hati
Logika menyusut, memaksa untuk bangkit
Membuatku mengeras seperti karang
Namun ombak selalu berhasil membasahi karang.

Dan aku jatuh lagi dan lagi.
Di luar logika, terlarut ke dalam perasaan.
Dan aku jatuh lagi dan lagi
Menembus logika, menuju rasa abid tak berlogika.

Writer & Illustrator: 
Lista R

Sunday, 22 July 2018

Too Good To Be True

Remember sitting upon the beach’s bench that nightfall?

We are looking at those fishermen’s old boats adorned with white fluorescent lights—forming a line like the constellations.

It got us to listen to our nostalgic song that blended in wave’s vociferous sound.
Less talking, much sensing, and immersing
It felt so blissful, yet serene and peaceful.

Tell me,
Have you had the same dream as me?

To will have returned, to will have recalled the memory;
To will have relished the night, the love, and the future filled with euphoria!

Ah, it’s too good to be true!

Writer: Lista R

Saturday, 14 July 2018

Was She Wrong?

As if her friend, darkness had stayed with her for a very long time. She was invisible. People threw rock at her like she was not a human being. She did not understand why, all she knew was just: People could be so mean, even when you did nothing to them. Yet she chose to struggle over to suffer from the pain. Life was hard—there were some bastards and there was no lifeguard. She ought to be her own bodyguard until she saved from the drought, and walked to a route that brought her proud.

A little spotlight lightened the darkness that had haunted her for years. With her in the center, the ambiance changed significantly as if she was born to be seen. Praised and complimented frequently, this was a definite moment when a big smile covered her face frequently. Over victory and victory, she was the star without anxiety.

Forest Gump said that life was like a rollercoaster, indeed. And it felt so fuckin’ real when two years later—like an old friend who had been lost for a while, the darkness came saying hello again. She arrived in a haunted place where darkness seemed darker. When no one shouted at her, just scary voices all over. She needed a supporter, not an asshole who turned a dreamer into a loser.

This was a chapter when everyone who supposedly a supporter became an aggressor. She wanted to dedicate her life as an author, at least for the moment, trapped in a small room where she turned her imagination into something real was a form of happiness. Yet no onenot a single one was giving her enough time. Instead, they were pushing her into a big big hole consisting of thousands of people living the same way that they called ‘a proper place.’

No power. No supporter. Just need a savior.

Give up.

Weeping every night for the things she never dreamt of, she was upon the ‘proper place’ as they called. Sprawled on the rock, incapacitated, yet they clapped her for the things she wasn’t fond of. Ironical, as she called.

Hence, she began to wonder for her perspective on life. Ironical it is—the world.


-Lista R