The Poems of Gimien Artekjursi

Muncar Harbor Manol Workers

should be robots or machines
transporting fish, lifting them from boats
to land
soaking in dirty and smelly salt water
-like sewage, factory waste products -

but the manol workers need wages for a dream
(or an illusion?)
strengthen their shoulders
lift loads without calculating the weight
don't want to be replaced by machines or robots

there's nothing wrong
everyone walks on their own wheels
for the sake of a dream or just an illusion
all the muscles of the body must be strong
also the bones
in that field they struggle
br/>it doesn't have to be gunpowder

wrapped in cold weather at night or morning
the heat of the sun cannot be covered
men move the fish from boats
to land
to motorized rickshaws
take them to factories or cold storage

don't send machines or robots
the strength of their shoulders and body bones
are the rice fields
which provide grains of life until the day after tomorrow
every time they swim through murky water with a load
Weighing on the shoulders
carrying fish belonging to the skippers

Kumendung, October 2023

Also read: S Prasetyo Utomo's poems

I Write Poetry

I wrote poetry about grass
on the roots, on the leaves of the grass
on the ground where it grows
I wrote about the dew that hangs
br/>which did not become a statue
I wrote about roads, about the sea with its boats
with its fish
about forests that lost their tigers
about people who work with their sweat
about many things
but the usual ones
nothing special

I wrote as is
nothing special
just ordinary

because I'm not a poet
who is good at putting words together
incarnate wise wisdom
I'm not a scholar
who is good at providing solutions to various problems
nor am I a religious expert
every word of which can be a fatwa
guiding anyone
I'm just an ordinary person
who understands something only what the eye can see

and I wrote something that I think is poetry
but maybe it's not poetry
because the words of poetry must have many meanings
even if other people don't understand
my words are what they are
without any other meaning

I write something ordinary
nothing special
(because no one should be special - apart from God)
and I write because I like it
that's all

Kumendung, January 28 2024

Also read: Ni Putu Ayu Yogi Ardhaningsih's Poems

About Autumn Wind

after the last leaves of this autumn date
the wind blows lonely

I accompany him blowing
in the sea, in the desert, in the grassless fields

but the wind insists on looking for hanging leaves

climbing to the mountain
the wind meets the clouds and blows them into rain

at the bottom of the valley the rain flooded
washing away everything, also the fallen leaves

I let the wind swirl at the top of the mountain, not daring to come down

Kumendung, 29 February 2024

Also read: Joko Pinurbo's poems

The Other Side of Time

people wander to death
looking for lost time
time that continues to roll by quickly

and the years circle endlessly around the sun
and the days trim the seasons at their edges

we lose grip every time we change the blanket, which is worn out and full of patches

"Everything will be fine," you say between pauses
while packing up the remains of the excitement of the party
(a party that never ends
even though everything is pawned)

Meanwhile here
there are still those who dream
of building a country as beautiful as a fairy tale

and hope
somewhere in the end of the world
you can plant and reap at once
without waiting for the pistils to develop

(under the shade of trees
my tired dreams
lay down
no longer dancing under the seasons
which never stop falling
also dragged by time)

Kumendung, March 1, 2024

Also read: Poems by Raudal Tanjung Banua

Count

every day we are busy calculating
everything:

calculating the pros and cons of the world-afterlife
calculating the seconds of time
pulse
the remaining days
to exchange for anything

at the election table
people were busy counting
the contents of the ballot boxes
to exchange seats of power

the one at the kitchen table
counting the contents of the wallet
to exchange for daily necessities

on the prayer mat
still counting the deeds and prayers
to be exchanged for tickets to the afterlife

every time
we never stop counting
many things
to exchange for anything
until death comes

Kumendung, 2024

Note: Muncar is a sub-district in Banyuwangi Regency. In Muncar there is the largest fishing port in Java.