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Jakarta Post

Poetry: Of people and the rain

When it rains, the clock goes underwater and hours break.

Andrieta R.A. (The Jakarta Post)
Jakarta
Mon, May 29, 2017

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Poetry: Of people and the rain When it rains, the clock goes underwater and hours break. (Shutterstock/File)

The seconds refuse to tock

till this all comes to a stop.

The earth in puddles and flood;

a story and billions

that could not be spoke.

 

When the drizzling starts,

the tires cease to a halt —

but the feet of the tired

continue to run.

A boy walks with a guitar

to a home beneath

the city streets

while his father sells cigars

and fires put out by tears

as well as the rich’s

disregardful greed.

 

When the thunder starts to roar,

the swings no longer soar.

The ball sits alone;

play time is no more.

 

When the luminescence ends,

the dawn of a mourning begins.

A woman with hair

the color of clouds

sought the ashes of loss

in a horizon of gray,

while a girl sits with cold hands

in a drowning world that

she could not understand.

 

When the ocean starts to pour,

a couple stops by to embrace.

Then a sole woman, an umbrella — a lover and their dirty promises

slip past her fingers

like rain circling a drain.

 

When it rains,

the clock goes underwater

and hours break.

I don’t know

if I am the man

who hears the droplets

knock on his window

to offer him contemplation,

for I might be the child

locked in their room

growing a fond melancholy

for the blue weather

as the virginity of my innocence

is threatened to disappear.

 

I know

that the light

will give birth

to a new bright sky —

but I don’t know,

it feels like a someday

so far away

does it not?

 

I know I do not know

when time will come and go,

but for now

I am within a state of sadness

and a little bit of calm.

 

I feel, for the first time in a while

my facades and my masks

washed off from my flesh

and I feel human

with incomprehensible emotions

yet again.

 

I am a person

and billions who cannot speak

of why they like or dislike the rain — and I feel like this may last

for one whole season

or perhaps far longer than a year.

***

Andrieta R.A. is a student at UPH College. She was among the first batch of participants of “The Novel,” a creative writing course held by The Jakarta Post Writing Center. For more info go to tjpcreativewriting.com

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