Sitok Srengenge Third Victim Breaks Silence

Another young woman has said that she was sexually abused by noted poet Sitok Srengenge. The student was the third to come forward in less than one month.

The first victim, who was also a university student, reported Sitok to the Jakarta Police for raping her. A second victim then said that Sitok had tried to rape her but failed. She also said she was willing to provide written testimony to corroborate the first victim’s claims.

Lecturer Saras Dewi, who is counseling the victims in an official capacity, said that the case of the third victim was similar to that of the first one.

Sitok, she said, used his status as a famous poet to invite the third victim to his boarding house and then manipulated her into having sex with him.

“The third victim loves poems, especially the ones created by SS [Sitok]. She wanted to learn on how to write poems. She was happy when she could finally meet SS,” Saras told The Jakarta Post Monday.

“Sitok then asked her to come to his boarding house, and there gave her alcoholic drinks and had sex with her without her consent. The victim was very traumatized by the incident but Sitok kept on calling her for more sex and this stressed the victim even more,” she added.

Saras said that the third victim had agreed to testify against Sitok to support the first victim.

“She [the third victim] knows exactly what the first victim has gone through and decided to testify,” Saras said while adding that the third victim had recorded all her written conversations with Sitok, which show just how the poet tried to intimidate her for more sex.

Sitok, a renowned poet within the Salihara art community, had previously admitted that he had sex with the first victim but claimed that it was consensual. He also said that he was willing to take full responsibility for what he done to the first victim, who is now seven-months pregnant. [Source : The Jakarta Post]

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Indonesian Poet Reported to Police, Impregnated 22-Year-Old Student

Indonesian Prominent Poet Sitok Srengenge is facing jail time for allegedly molesting and impregnating a university student. Sitok was reported to the Jakarta Police for “unpleasant conduct” by a 22-year-old student of the University of Indonesia.

The victim’s lawyer, Paulus Irawan, said Sitok had forced the victim to have sex with him. Sitok, whose real name is Sitok Sunarto, was accused of refusing to take responsibility after the victim was found out to be pregnant.

“He has impregnated the victim and acted as if he is untouched before the law. This is an insult against women,” Paulus said.

One of the victim’s lecturers, Lily Tjahjandari, said her student had suffered from serious psychological problems because of what happened to her.

“We fully support a full investigation into this case,” she said.

Another lecturer from University of Indonesia’s School of Literature and Culture, Saraswati Dewi, said the lecturers decided to help the victim in order to end abuse and harassment against women in general.

“These kinds of unpleasant acts which have victimized young girls must be stopped. We don’t want to see more people become victims,” she said.

Saraswati said the victim and her family had been trying to make Sitok take responsibility for six months. However, she said, Sitok did not respond to her pleas and she decided to turn to the campus for help.

The victim has also reported the case to the National Commission on Violence Against Women (Komnas Perempuan) to report the sexual harassment.

“In the beginning nobody paid attention to this case because the victim shut herself down and was very depressed,” Saraswati said.

She said she had contacted Sitok on behalf of the victim, who was her student, and he admitted to her that he had approached the victim and had a sexual relationship with her.

“He admitted the victim did not approach him and he also said he was guilty,” she said.

Saifulloh Ramdani, the head of the student body at UI’s School of Literature and Culture, has also condemning the alleged indecent act.

Saifulloh said that the victim, who is said to be seven months’ pregnant now, could barely communicate because of the severe depression she was suffering. Saifulloh said she was very traumatized and unable to report the alleged rape. Friends, family and her lecturers had tried for three months to get her to report the case to the police.

Sitok has not responded to the case, but his daughter denied her father raped the victim as claimed. In an open letter she posted on her blog, Laire Siwi Mentari said Sitok admitted to having sex with the victim but claimed it was consensual.

“The accusation that my father has raped her and ran away from his responsibility is not true,” Laire wrote. She said her father had been trying to contact the victim’s family but was rejected.

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Dina Oktaviani: The lost biography of a young poet

City lights picked me up/and we tried to forget all the things/that had shredded the solitude back in that room//we may never understand/why old calendars/could change history/as easily and quickly as a highway rush


How do you feel after reading the lines above? How would you feel if you were told that the verse, an excerpt from a poem titled Silent Calendars, was written by a 15 year old? Dina Oktaviani composed it in February 2001. She had never before submitted her work to a national publication, but a year after Silent Calendars was written, Media Indonesia decided to print it in its Sunday edition, along with her other poems.

And how did she feel about it? "I was happy about the pay," she said, laughing. "But seriously, back then, I had to pay my own school fees, and I enjoyed spending money. My parents were proud too. They said they didn't want me to be an artist, but they bragged about my printed poems to the neighbors anyway."

Born in Tanjungkarang, Bandar Lampung, on Oct. 11, 1985, Dina used to dream about being a spy. Today, the mother of a 3-year-old boy has written poems and short stories for various publications, and published two books, Como Un Sue*o (anthology of short stories, Orakel, 2005), and Biografi Kehilangan (A Biography of Losses, anthology of poems, Insist Press, 2006). Her piece of poetry Hantu-hantu Tanjungkarang (The Ghosts of Tanjungkarang) was recently included in 100 Puisi Indonesia Terbaik 2008 (100 Best Indonesian Poems 2008, Gramedia Pustaka Utama).

In regard to Dina's poems, acclaimed poet Sapardi Djoko Damono commented on the back cover of Biografi Kehilangan: "She entices us to experience the secrets of life in unique ways, ways that have never been captured by other poets. Her experiences are arranged in sharp metaphors and imageries, a characteristic of modern poetry."

Sitting in a quiet cafe in Yogyakarta, smoking clove cigarettes and occasionally taking a sip of her iced lemon tea, Dina recalled falling in love with literature, particularly poetry. It all started in junior high school.

"In third grade, I watched a play that made me want to continue my studies at a school that had a theater group. One day, the play's director came to my school and staged a production, and I found out that Teater Satu, his theater group, had just formed a theater forum for senior high students. I often came to the forum, and I guess Iswadi Pratama, the director, observed my passion for theater and asked me to join the group. A few weeks later, he came to me and whispered in my ear: 'Would you like to learn about poetry?'" Dina embraced the opportunity, despite all the rules her mentor had laid out for her.

"I wasn't allowed to read teen magazines or comics. I couldn't watch sinetrons or band gigs. Oh, I wasn't allowed to have a boyfriend either. Falling in love was OK, but not boyfriends. After my poems were published in Media Indonesia and Republika, he then said I could break all of those rules, that I was free to do all the things that had been out of my reach in the last nine months. But I was no longer able to enjoy the things that I had deprived myself of," she said with a weak smile.

It was a coincidence that her mentor was also an editor with the Lampung Post. "Sometimes he asked me to edit the work of his reporters. And then he suggested that my friends from the theater forum and I work on a supplementary page for teenagers. My friends got bored, so I did the whole thing myself."

However, she sometimes misused the column for her own satisfaction and benefits. "I would make up questions and answers for the discussion section, though I was supposed to get the answers from real people. I was so selfish, I wanted people to read nobody else's opinions but mine. I also wrote poems under my friends' younger brothers' or sisters' names. When it was time for payment, I borrowed their IDs and told the treasurer's desk that those kids had asked me to get the money for them. I was such a criminal."

Dina took out a laptop from her bag. "Hey, you have a laptop too, don't you? This place has got a wireless connection. Let's chat via Yahoo Messenger," she said in a playful tone, adding, "just for the hell of it."

Time for the next question, through the internet, just for the hell of it: Why Yogyakarta?

After graduating from her senior high school in Lampung, Dina went to Jakarta to study French at the Jakarta State University. Realizing she could learn much more from books than from her French classes, she decided that Yogyakarta was the right place for her. "I had imagined Yogya to be a quiet place, and it turned out to be true. Here I also found BlockNot Poetry, which offered more than I had expected." Blocknot was a journal that published short stories and poems. At the end of 2003, Dina became one of its editors.

Since writing is her passion, does Dina call herself a writer, someone who turns writing into a primary source of income? "I do other sorts of jobs. Translating pays quite well, and I also take short-term projects like joining a creative team for events, etcetera. But I had 'writer' typed in the occupation column of my ID card. It wasn't easy. I had a quarrel with the village official. He insisted that 'writer' wasn't an occupation, so I told him: Women get to have 'housewife' written on their ID card. Is that an occupation? Do women get paid for being a wife and a mother? I do have other jobs, but unless you are ready to have me here every month to get my occupation column changed, just put 'writer' there. It's my permanent job."

Dina admitted to being more of a poet than a writer. Imagine the argument she would have to come up with for putting "poet" in the occupation column.

----------
This article was written by Daniel Rose, contributor for the Jakarta Post.

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Poem by Abdul Hadi WM

Abdul Hadi Wiji Muntahari also known as Abdul Hadi WM is one of Indonesian Poet which famous for his poem conceptions contain sufistic nuance, which inspired from moslem' poet Faridduddin Attar, announced his poem at Berita Buana cultural daily in the decade of 1980s has influenced Indonesian religious poem. He has wrote a lot of poems and translated some work from middle east author, just mention one of them "al-Matsnawi al-Maknawi" one of masterpiece from Jalāl-ad-Dīn Rūmī, a 13th century Persian poet, Islamic jurist, and theologian. To know more about Abdul Hadi WM, let enjoy his following poems:


Barat dan Timur

Barat dan Timur adalah guruku Muslim, Hindu, Kristen, Buddha, Pengikut Zen dan Tao Semua adalah guruku Kupelajari dari semua orang saleh dan pemberani Rahasia cinta, rahasia bara menjadi api menyala Dan tikar sembahyang sebagai pelana menuju arasy-Nya Ya, semua adalah guruku Ibrahim, Musa, Daud, Lao Tze Buddha, Zarathustra, Socrates, Isa Almasih Serta Muhammad Rasulullah Tapi hanya di masjid aku berkhidmat Walau jejak-Nya Kujumpai di mana-mana.

Pembawa Matahari
Sajak-sajak karya Abdul Hadi WM (1981-1992)

Republika Online edisi : 05 Dec 1999


Dalam Pasang

Dan pasang apalagikah yang akan mengenyahkan kita, kegaduhan apa lagi? Sekarat dan terbakar sudah kita oleh tahun-tahun penuh pertikaian, ketakutan dan perang saudara Terpelanting dari kebuntuan yang satu ke kebuntuan lainnya

Tapi tetap saja kita membisu atau berserakan Menunggu ketakpastian

Telah mereka hancurkan rumah harapan kita Telah mereka campakkan jendela keluh dan ratap kita Hingga tak ada yang mesti kuceritakan padamu lagi tentang laut itu di sana, yang naik dan menarik ketenteraman ke tepi

Kecuali serpih matahari dalam genggam kesia-siaan ini yang bisa menghanguskan kota ini lagi - Raja-raja dan kediaman mereka yang bertangan besi Kecuali segala bual dan pidato kumal yang berapi-api Antara kepedihan bila kesengsaraan dan lapar tak tertahankan lagi

Kita adalah penduduk negeri yang penuh kesempatan dan mimpi Tapi tak pernah lagi punya kesempatan dan mimpi

Kita adalah penduduk negeri yang penuh pemimpin Tapi tak seorang pun kita temukan dapat memimpin Kita....


Pembawa Matahari
Sajak-sajak karya Abdul Hadi WM (1981-1992)

Republika Online edisi : 05 Dec 1999


Ketika Masih Bocah

Ketika masih bocah, rumahku di tepi laut Bila pagi pulang dari perjalanan jauhnya Menghalau malam dan bayang-bayangnya, setiap kali Kulihat matahari menghamburkan sinarnya Seraya menertawakan gelombang Yang hilir mudik di antara kekosongan

Sebab itu aku selalu riang Bermendung atau berawan, udara tetap terang Setiap butir pasir buku pelajaran bagiku Kusaksikan semesta di dalam Dan keluasan mendekapku seperti seorang ibu

Batang kayu untuk perahu masih lembut tapi kuat Kuhadapkan senantiasa jendelaku ke wajah kebebasan Aku tak tahu mengapa aku tak takut pada bahaya Duri dan kepedihan kukenal Melalui kakiku sendiri yang telanjang

Arus begitu akrab denganku Selalu ada tempat bernaung jika udara panas Dan angin bertiup kencang Tak banyak yang mesti dicemaskan Oleh hati yang selalu terjaga Pulau begitu luas dan jalan lebar Seperti kepercayaan Dan kukenal tangan pengasih Tuhan Seperti kukenal getaran yang bangkit Di hatiku sendiri

Pembawa Matahari
Sajak-sajak karya Abdul Hadi WM (1981-1992)

Republika Online edisi : 05 Dec 1999


:: those poems previously collected and published at http://www.geocities.com/paris/parc/2713/ahwm.html

Abdul Hadi WM at PDAT (Tempo Decumentation Resource)



ABDUL HADI WIDJI MUTHARI (Abdul Hadi W.M.)


''Saya lebih senang disebut sebagai penyair saja,'' ucap Abdul Hadi Widji Muthari. Selebihnya, seperti jabatan redaktur kebudayaan harian Berita Buana, dan anggota Dewan Pimpinan Harian Dewan Kesenian Jakarta, dapatlah dianggap sebagai tambahan.
Puisi adalah getar nadinya. ''Saya menyukai puisi sejak saya jatuh cinta,'' kata Hadi. Yakni ketika di SMP. Kemudian, ia merasa dimatangkan oleh karya-karya Amir Hamzah, Chairil Anwar, serta dorongan orangtua, kawan, dan guru.
Sebagaimana anak Madura lainnya, Hadi adalah ''Anak Laut, Anak Angin'', seperti bunyi judul kumpulan puisinya. Padahal, darah Maduranya hanya sebagian. Selebihnya Cina dan Jawa. Namun, bakat seni memang mengalir deras dalam dirinya, mewarisi keluarga yang suka karya sastra, ayah yang gemar melukis, dan kakek yang senang bersenandung Mocopatan, dan membaca sastra Jawa.
Masa kecilnya sudah dijejali dengan bacaan berat. Semula bercita-cita menjadi pemikir. Artinya, ''Yah, semacam filosof yang menerbitkan ide-ide baru.'' Plato, Socrates, Imam Ghazali, R. Tagore, dan Iqbal, dikenalnya betul, paling tidak demikianlah perasaannya. Dan untuk memenuhi keinginan batinnya, ia meninggalkan Fakultas Sastra, dan pindah ke Fakultas Filsafat.
Sekitar 1970-an, nama Abdul Hadi mencuat. Para pengamat menilai Hadi sebagai pencipta puisi yang bersuasana hati. Hadi memang menulis tentang kesepian, kematian, dan waktu. Makin lama, warna mistis Islamnya makin menonjol, dan kadang malah menyatu dengan mistis Jawa. Kumpulan puisi Meditasi yang memenangkan hadiah buku puisi DKJ terbaik 1978, dan buku Hamzah Fansuri, Penyair Sufi Aceh, mewakili kecenderungan religiusnya.
Orang sering membandingkan Abdul Hadi dengan Taufiq Ismail, yang juga berpuisi religius. Hadi membantahnya. ''Dengan tulisan, saya mengajak orang lain untuk mengalami pengalaman religius yang saya rasakan. Sedang Taufiq hanya menekankan sifat moralistisnya,'' katanya.
Hingga kini sudah enam kumpulan puisi yang diterbitkannya. Empat buku lainnya bukan puisi. Dengan istrinya, Tedjawati, yang menjadi pelukis, Hadi sering terlibat diskusi soal seni. Ia juga menyukai karya Bach, Beethoven, dan The Beatles.

UPDATE :

Abdul Hadi WM menerima tawaran dari University Sains Malaysia yang memberinya
kesempatan menjadi "ahli cipta" di Pusat Pengajian Ilmu Kemanusiaan, University Sains Malaysia, tahun 1992. Posisinya sebagai "ahli cipta" di perguruan tinggi yang berlokasi di Penang, Malaysia itu membuka peluang mengikuti program doktoral di perguruan tinggi itu dalam bidang sastra. Ia menyusun tesis Estetika Puisi Hamzah Fanzuri (Kajian tentang Hamzah Fanzuri). Sampai saat ini, Abdul Hadi sering menjadi pembicara seminar atau baca puisi.

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Goenawan Mohamad: On God and Other Unfinished Things

This is the newest book by Goenawan Mohamad, a leading Indonesian poet and Indonesian intellectual, former Tempo's chief editor and also the founder of the Indonesian legendary magazine (Tempo=Times, Goenawan named his magazine inspired by that American magazine, Times). This book content with 99 essays that departed from the aphorism, followed the tracks of the Sprinkling of the Contemplation of the Roestam Effendi work in the 1930 's. His contents generally is the moments exploration religious, the poetic experience, also meditation about the Lord, faith, the death and the authority.

On God and Other Unfinished Things previously published in Indonesian language edition entitled "Tuhan dan Hal-hal yang tak selesai". The English edition translated by Laksmi Pamuntjak.

Some people said that the book is another form of "Catatan Pinggir" (a weekly Goenawan' essay in Tempo). Some give a positive appreciation, and some response in negative tones that this book only to show the writers intellectually. Whatever people say, Goenawan, an Indonesian poet who have started his career since 60s and keep writing poems up to this recent days (which has emerges a lot of GM' epigons, will (always) be one of the greatest Indonesian Poet.

Bayu has posted on his blog, reviewing this book. To read the review, visit http://lifeschool.wordpress.com/2007/12/05/tuhantuhantu-nya-gm/

I was feel alienated when came to community that I visited several times at the past. Last night at Freedom Institute-Jakarta, the newest book of Goenawan Mohamad (a.k.a. GM) –the founder of Tempo and one of Indonesian journalist living legend- was launch. Present as speakers were Rev. Martin Lukito Sinaga and K.H. Husein Muhammad. As I observed, guest whose came divided into: GM’s inner circles, peoples who their work and daily life connected to GM including press, peoples who like party and ‘food free to eat’ like students, and peoples like me: who confused to categorized themselves.

However, confusion was not my monopoly that night, because many guests whose came looks shocked when they read this unique book. This book is compilation of 99 short fragments which named book, titled with weird like some philosophical book: On God & Other Unfinished Things. Read this book, I remember Nietzsche’s work which used fragment broadly, even longer. This model is shortcut for ‘peoples who have many ideas’ which often that idea came by co-incidentally fast that needs to write down immediately before it pass away. It is logic, if fragment chosen as the best way to extract idea. Because of that, never fall into confusion if you don’t find chapter number, changed with fragment although it not mean as a row. Never think you can read this book regularly like complete book from the first page until the last page. I was open any page randomly and a-ha!, I got the same sensation. Every fragment was separate but still related each other. Readers have no obligation to read until finish then. Only one thing clear, this book explained about searching process of one wayfarer about meaning of life. And life in the par excellence form is God.

The author seemed to show off his knowledge about world horizon. Likely he already discovery every valley, climb every mountain, dive In under every ocean, for write off this book. The never ending style since the era he wrote on Catatan Pinggir (means Side Note, name of his column) at Tempo magazine before it was banned. At his brief GM acknowledge also there are some parts of his book came from his legendary column. For readers who have limitation about religion horizon, this book could shake your faith. Although it not put bright blurp on it’s cover like Da Vinci Code was.

He took splash stories from far lands: Illiad which tell about Troy (38), al-Mutawakkil Baghdad caliph (41), 1001-Night Tales by Shahrazad (11), Sultan Akbar from India (21), Musa (23, 26,27,28,30), Yesus (24), Sophocles and Mahabharata (39), Serat Cabolek from Java (52), Ratu Kidul from Java also (67), Yosua (88), Sherlock Holmes and Andersen (56), Cervantez’ Don Quixote (81), until Mel Gibson’ Passion of The Christ (24) and Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu’ Babel. GM also rowing many great names –including from Indonesia history-: Sunan Kalijaga (1), Sitor Situmorang (2), Rilke (3,60), Omar Khayam (4), Subagio Sastrowardoyo (4,62), Chairil Anwar (4,16,32), Derrida (6,61,96), Holderlin (7), Amir Hamzah (8,21,40), Ibn Rushd (8, 22), Ibn Sina (8), Al-Ghazali (8,31,76), Buddha (9,28), Shakespeare (9), Karl Barth (13), Tagore and Adorno (15), William James, Roland Barthes (16), Tahar Djaout (17), Alan Badiou (22, 54), Simone Weil (21), Nietzsche (26,74,84), Lyotard (27), Muhammad (28,30), Santo Agustinus and Rudolf Otto (28), Boris Pasternak (33), Pramoedya Ananta Toer (33,53), Brecht (36,83), Noah (40), Al-Tabari (40), Goebbels dan Hitler (42,56), Claude Lefort (48), Baudrillard (49), Rene Girard (50), Lacan (51,54), Descartes (52), Neruda and Walter Benjamin (53), Foucault (54), Karl Marx (54), Sayyed Qutb (55), Gadamer (55), Heidegger (29,42,52,61,67), Ilya Ehrenburg (53), Albert Camus (57), Asmuni (58), Dao and Ranggawarsita (59), Levinas (61,85), Heraklitus (62), Vico (62), Marcel Proust (63), Cokot, Duchamp and Jean Tinguely (64), Husserl, Basho, Matisse, Jean-Luc Marion, Rusli, John Cage (65), Kafka (66), Abraham (68,79), Kierkegaard (68), Allen Ginsberg (70), W.H. Auden, Ibn Arabi dan Herodes (71), Naoki Sakai, Ito Jinsai and Kong Hu Cu (73), Angelus Silesius (74), Signorelli and Michelangelo (78), Roberto Calasso (79), George Steiner (80), Dylan Thomas (82), Fukuyama (84), Iqbal (85), Joan Copjec (86), Nelson Mandela (87), Derek Walcott and Sukarno (92), Rachel Bespaloff (93), Marion (95), Groucho Marx and Franz Fanon (96), dan Habermas and Mother Sud (99).

I feel strange, from that many names which like worker who like to put ther presence card on the machine, GM not mention many names of God as they are same each other. He put God concept from any ages and cultures as simply as “God” word only. As simple as that. Just like what he hope from his book reader not to think too hard and look into his writing as simple as look at many stars which became the mystery of night sky. Then, this book maybe as manifestation of question about God which shadowing author’s mind for years. The thing that could happen to other wayfarer also.

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Four haiku, a poem by Saut Situmorang

such boredom...
the goldfish swimming
measuring the aquarium

***

CHURCH BELL
the city walls laugh at it

***

ANCIENT TREE
a flower on the top branch

***

MIDDAY SUN
the dew in the graveyard still


Saut Situmorang, one of famous Indonesian Poet, now living in Yogyakarta, a basis of Indonesian intellectual. Saut recently released his "Otobiography" which content his complete poem collection. Saut chalange Indonesian literature society to againts Utan Kayu domination.

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The Artist and The Poet

by Tubagus P. Svarajati, a journalist and the founder of YAITU: Art House, now living in Semarang, Central Java, Indonesia.


IT WAS Sunday afternoon, June 17th 2007, when two remarkable persons came in. They’re Entang Wiharso, one of the greatest Indonesian artists, and the wellknown poet was Afrizal Malna. They’re accompanied by Christine Cocca, the artist’ wife who is an American, Byron Good and Mary-Jo DelVecchio Good.

Byron and Mary-Jo are husband and wife. Both are professors from Department of Social Medicine, Harvard Medical School, USA. Byron is a professor of medical anthropology and Mary-Jo is a professor of social medicine. They are in Indonesia doing researches in Aceh funded by the World Bank. They make friend with Wiharso’s family since 2002. And they want to see the artist’s solo exhibition in Rumah Seni Yaitu. For Byron this is the second visit to the exhibition. He came at the opening of the exhibition on May 25th. But for Mary-Jo this is the first time to enjoy it. The visit was especially arranged for her for she was just coming from USA two days ago. She eagered to watch the whole art works. Both couples admire Wiharso’s art works very much especially the artist’s talent and energy to produce many art works.

Byron told me that he was very lucky to attend the opening night. He enjoyed the atmosphere, the artist’ performances collaborated with some art students, and local people surround the art space. He never see in other places where local people and guests can join together to enjoy an art exhibition. Indeed the night was very special attended by many national art lovers such as Dr Oei Hong Djien, Dr Melani Setiawan, Teguh Wibisana, Simon Tan, Chris Dharmawan, and some more.

Mary-Jo thought that the exhibition was amazing. She enjoyed all the wonderful works in the space. Stressing this, in one conversation with me and the artist, she still wondered why such artist can produce many art works, which most of them are excelent ones, and from what thing he gets the energy to create them. “No artists in the world do the same like him,” she claimed.

Yes, many art lovers will say and agree to Mary-Jo. But there are some who do not agree with. An Indonesian leading critic said, in the discussion session accompanying the exhibition, that Wiharso’s works are merely imitating some other artists’ styles. This argument boosted the audiences. How come an artist who gets many admirations from the world art-scene is just a copy-paste one? Some people said that nowadays it is not important to discuss the appearences without searching the meaning of the works themselves. Then, some days after the discussion, another senior art critic and also a lecturer in Indonesian Arts Institute wrote in the leading paper Kompas that the critic mentioned above was only doing things with his own shoes.

Well, it is time for people freely to see anything with their own perspectives. The same thing happened when discussing the art works. So nowadays arts have their multifacets point of views depending on what shape they are to be examined. These are, at least, what the poet Afrizal Malna said in the terrace that night.

You know, the Sunday visit last about at 7pm. Before leaving Semarang to Yogyakarta, the artist and the poet gave their talks to some young local artists and art students. And above all, I want you to know one person who was very kind to join the visit, that is Mr Hendro Wasito. This gentlement is the artist’ friend and also an art lover. He is the guy behind the scene of the “Intoxic” exhibition. And, I believe, he is going to be one important person in the city art-scene in the upcoming time. I thank him for all the help.

Image: The Poet Afrizal Malna.
Photo by: Ferintus Karbon


Credits:
This article originally published at YAITU: Art House's blog. To discuss this article with the writer, visit Tubagus P Svarajati personal blog at http://svarajati.blogspot.com

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Poet Hero: Chairil Anwar

It is hard to pour the entire legend of his life into words. Fantastic, talented, and ambitious are simply not enough to describe him. Chairil Anwar remains the most talented and perhaps most famous Indonesian poet. He is a legend, and no one could ever compare to him. He was a knight, but used his words -- such beautiful words -- to destroy his enemies and to support his friends. He was like an angel that could fly anywhere. His words are his wings and the words are flowing eternally in his mind, forever.

When my time has come,
No one could persuade me.
Not even you.

I am a neglected animal,
disposed from its own group.

That was a part of his most famous poetry, AKU. He is a legend now. An angel, he is, an angel that has gone on to paradise, and an angel that won't be seen anymore, but whose heart will remain and live forever on earth -- eternal and indestructible.

When he was a child, his father left his mother. His wound then manifested into a symbolic "ring of words." A ring that is more valuable than anything in this world, a ring that couldn't be bought with money, a ring that will stay forever as long as there are minds who remember it.

He is one of the important people in Indonesian history and, with great vision, tried to lead Indonesia to be a better country. His poetry, even though often found to be very strict and forceful, meant a lot. Sometimes he even fought against the government through his poems. That makes him my hero, because he is extremely special compared to other Indonesian poets.

To talk about Mr. Anwar is to talk about brilliance. His impact and influence in the world of poetry and the political situation in Indonesia is deep. To Indonesian people, his image strongly symbolizes an example of someone who will fight for his beliefs. Even though he often faced danger because of his bravery, he still pressed on.

For a famous poet like Chairil Anwar, his words seem to have a stronger power than actions. It’s amazing how Mr. Anwar acted. His reactions may have been a bit surprising at times, but it made us see things from a different point of view, one that's often quite reasonable and true. In my opinion, he is a genius. He might not have always succeeded to fulfill his goal of making the government work the way he thought was right, but when he did succeed it was a glorious victory. Despite the fact that he might not have been a victorious kind of figure, his determination made, and continues to make, Indonesian people proud of him.

But based on our daily life, does talking do anything? Can words change our life? Chairil Anwar may have looked like an angel that had all the powers to change the world: he was brilliant, and he could do anything he put his mind to -- but words are only words; without actions, words are no use! That's why we, here, must continue Mr. Anwar's effort to bring the world, and mainly our homeland, Indonesia, to become a better place and a better country, so that people may be proud of it.

Mr. Anwar is definitely one of the most extraordinary, fantastic guys I have ever heard of. That is why we think he is a hero. He is ours, and he’ll never fail to give us inspiration and strength through his poems and personality. His influence has never faded away even though he died in 1949. Despite his short life span - only 27 years in this world -- his impact is everlasting. A hero will always be remembered as a hero. So try to do your best when you are still alive, so that you too will be remembered as an angel that could fly to the darkness of the sky and shine light in that darkeness. Strive to be a hero that can change people's mindset, and one who can change the world -- bringing it into a bright, shining perfection.

Written by Vincentius
from Surabaya, Indonesia

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Chairil Anwar and His Poems

Chairil Anwar, the author of most of the poems in this section, lived only twenty-seven years yet is a major force in modern Indonesian poetry. His influence stems from two sources: one, his innovations in language, which stripped traditional 'decorative' and traditionally 'poetic' conventions from the Indonesian language, leaving what he called "the germinal word, the germinal image"; two, his short, perhaps tragic life (born in 1922, he fought as a guerrilla against the Dutch colonial rule and died of typhus, tuberculosis and syphilis in 1949, when he was only 27 years old) that coincides with a period of social and political unrest (the end of Japanese rule and the fight for independence from the Dutch) central to the making of modern Indonesia. These poems are translated by Burton Raffel and published in The Voice of the Night: Complete Poetry and Prose of Chairil Anwar (1993).

I cannot give you much information about the last two poems or their authors. The works are reprinted in The Poetry of the World, ed. Jeffrey Paine (New York: Harper Collins, 2000) but without any background or publication information. "Siapapak enghau" is by a contemporary Indonesian writer who appears to be influenced by Chairil Anwar; "My Message" is also a recent work, and apparently the author, a Malaysian poet with English connections [see his name] wrote it originally in English.

Chairil Anwar, "At The Mosque"

I shouted at Him
Until He came

We met face to face.

Afterwards He burned in my breast.
All my strength struggles to extinguish Him

My body, which won't be driven, is naked with sweat

This room
Is the arena where we fight

Destroying each other
One hurling insults, the other gone mad.

Chairil Anwar, "Me"

When my time comes
No one's going to cry for me,
And you won't, either

The hell with all those tears!

I'm a wild beast
Driven out of the herd

Bullets may pierce my skin
But I'll keep coming,

Carrying forward my wounds and my pain
Attacking
Attacking
Until suffering disappears

And I won't give a damn

I want to live another thousand years

Chairil Anwar, "Heaven"

Like my mother, and my grandmother too,
plus seven generations before them,
I also seek admission to Heaven
which the Moslem party and the Mohammedan
Union say has rivers of milk
And thousands of houris all over.

But there's a contemplative voice inside me,
stubbornly mocking: Do you really think
the blue sea will go dry
--and what about the sly temptations
waiting in every port?
Anyway, who can say for sure
that there really are houris there
with voices as rich and husky as Nina's,
with eyes that flirt like Yati's?

Chairil Anwar, "Willingness"

If you like I'll take you back

With all my heart.

I'm still alone.

I know you're not what you were,

Like a flower pulled into parts.

Don't crawl! Stare at me bravely.

If you like I'll take you back

For myself, but

I won't share even with a mirror.

Chairil Anwar, "Twilight at Little Harbor"

This time no one's lookng for love
down between the sheds, the old houses, among the twittering
masts and rigging. A boat, a prau that will never sail again
puffs and snorts, thinking there's something it can catch

The drizzle brings darkness. An eagle's wings flap,
brushing against the gloom; the day whispers, swimming silkily
away to meet harbor temptations yet to come. Nothing moves
and now the sand and the sea are asleep, the waves gone.

That's all. I'm alone. Walking,
combing the cape, still choking back the hope
of getting to the end and, just once, saying the hell with it
from this fourth beach, embracing the last, the final sob.

Sapardi Djoko Damonno, "Siapapek engkau [Who are you]"

I am Adam
who ate the apple;
Adam suddenly aware of himself,
startled and ashamed,
I am Adam who realized
good and evil, passing
from one sin to another,
Adam continuously suspicious
of himself,
hiding his face.
I am Adam floundering
in the net of space and time,
with no help from reality:
paradise lost
because of my mistrust
of the Presence.
I am Adam
who heard God say
farewell, Adam.

Cecil Rajendra, "My Message"

And now you ask
what is my message
i say with Nabokov
i am a poet
not a postman
i have no message.

but i want the cadences
of my verse to crack
the carapace of indifference
prise open torpid eyelids
thick-coated with silver.

i want syllables
that will dance, pirouette
in the fanatasies of nymphets
i want vowels that float
into the dreams of old men.

i want my consonants
to project kaleidoscopic visions
on the screens of the blind
& on the eardrums of the deaf
i want pentameters that sing
like ten thousand mandolins.

i want such rhythms
as will shake pine
angsana, oak & meranti,
out of their pacific
slumber, uproot them-
selves, hurdle over
buzz-saw & bull-dozer
and rush to crush
with long heavy toes
merchants of defoliants.

i want every punctuation --
full-stop, comma & semi-colon
to turn into a grain of barley,
millet, maize, wheat or rice
in the mouths of our hungry;
i want each & every metaphor
to metamorphose into a rooftop
over the heads of our homeless.

i want the assonances
of my songs to put smiles
on the faces of the sick,
the destitute & the lonely,
pump adrenaline into the veins
of every farmer & worker
the battle-scarred & the weary.

and yes, yes, i want my poems
to leap out from the page
rip off the covers of my books
and march forthrightly to
that sea of somnolent humanity
lay bare the verbs, vowels
syllables, consonants . . . & say
"these are my sores, my wounds:
this is my distended belly:
here i went ragged and hungry:
in that place i bled, was tortured;
and on this electric cross i died.
Brothers, sisters, HERE I AM."

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