32. Buana KS Independent

32.

Buana KS

Independent

There was still the smell of battle blood
in the tops of grass below the dim pale moonlight

the earth is reluctant to forget the stumbling steps shouldered
unnamed warrior death

how far independence is in the pursuit of this struggle
Concrete cities are busy preying on capitalism
farmers lose tools, the soil is no longer fragrant

in a corner of a stiff building, an arid field
innocent boy dancing singing, playing happily
without the burden hanging on the head
this is actual independence I suppose
Muara Bungo, August 1, 2019

33. Muhammad Levand East Jember people

33.

Muhammad Levand

East Jember people

morning:
All wake up after the rooster crows
Wash your face with water
Facing God and thinking
The one who has rice fields takes his hoe
The owner of the garden takes the sickle
Who doesn't have to get ready to work
Some look for wood to the forest
Some are looking for grass to the garden
Cold does not block people's passion
The eastern land of Jember is so fertile
Extensive rice fields stretching from north to south
The gardens beneath the foothills of the mountain are so lush

afternoon:
After the call to prayer the dhuhur reverberated from the nearest mosque
All prepare to return to their homes
Washing the body and sweat
Do not forget to pray
Some returned to their fields and gardens
There is a break in his room
Children coming home from school say hello

afternoon:
Mothers gather
The fathers return to their respective activities
Children playing kites


night:
People are praying
every day:
The people of eastern Jember are very independent
Jember, 2019


   Muhammad Lefand, a writer born in Sumenep Madura under the name Muhammad,  now lives in Ledokombo Jember. Is a migrant who likes writing poetry and beautiful words. Graduates of MA An-Nawari Seratengah Bluto Sumenep and Islamic University Jember Active in several literary communities, among others: as one of the founders and activists of the Jember Foundation Literary Forum, founder and activist of the Jember Literature Forum, activists of the East Java Literary Forum and Jember Poetry Night. His poetry collection entitled "Aku Anak Indonesia" (2013) won 3rd place in the 2013 "Curriculum and Book Center Enrichment Contest Book Competition" in the category of children's poetry, Received an award as the best poetist version of the Warung Anthologi Award in 2013, Best Poetry Writer Verse miss year 2013, and other awards In addition to writing poetry, also writing articles, essays and rhymes. Anthology of the poem book namely: Mutiara Pantun (2014) and Senandung Tanah Merah "(KKK, 2016) .. Anthology of poetry single "One Glass Two Season" (Pena House: 2014). "Don't Call Me Poet (Literature Ganding: 2015) Mental Revolution and Aesthetics (CV Erzatama: 2015). "Sermon The Distance Is Not Intact Distance And Corn ”(Pena House: 2016). And the Image Chronology (FAM Publishing: 2017).

34. Hazani Hamzah A pair of colors

34.

Hazani Hamzah

A pair of colors

A pair of colors is a flag
Is also age
Fluttering and waving
In the lonely I missed my hometown
Where I was born
And suck your love
Mother, your song is still sweet
In a cracked season

Not the stars or the Ferris wheel
What you ask for
Only a pair of colors as a flag
The one you want to keep plugging in
In the morning
For your children history
Sapeken - Sumenep, 25 July 2019

Hazani Hamzah, was born August 16, 1974 in Sumenep to be exact in Sapeken; a small island in the Kangean - Sapeken archipelago located at the eastern end of the island of Madura or north of Bali. The father of 1 (one) child who was named Ega Novela Indah Nian, in addition to cultivating the world of writing (literature), cultural arts activists in his hometown also taught, and became observers of local wisdom. Especially the wisdom of the Bajau which is the majority tribe in the Sapeken Islands which is one of the other tribes in the Sumenep Regency. Like the Madurese, Bajau, Bugis and Mandar.

35. Kajoe's Pencil Song in the land of Merdeka

35.

Kajoe's Pencil

Song in the land of Merdeka

Gas out
Cooking oil runs out
Pam's water is dead
Electric account swells
AC is broken
Wet laundry
Old pregnant wife
The cellphone needs credit
The lottery number isn't transparent
Debt collector is raging
Job application was rejected
Flag ceremony
Carnival
Climbing slippery pole
Eat crackers
Sack race
Independent
Independent
Country Song
Independent


Independent
E-KTP hasn't finished yet
Independent
Independent
STNk SIM off
Independent
Independent
rented arrears
Independent
Independent

Independent country
New bride
Honeymoon
Erectile failure
Independent
Independent

a bloody fever mosquito
Bite
Fever
Independent
Independent

Equatorial land
Independent
Independent

The singing of the boys
Independent
Independent

Indonesia
Independent
Independent
Independent
?
12082017






Pencil Kajoe, born in Banyumas, 27 January. It has given birth to 14 single anthologies and approximately 18 shared anthologies. His writings are also spread in newspapers, magazines in Indonesia. He is currently the author of the Banyumasan rubric in one of the Javanese-language magazines in Yogyakarta.

36. Eno El Fadjeri The Pancasila Wound Paragraph

36.

Eno El Fadjeri

The Pancasila Wound Paragraph

Proclamation has gone away from dreams
Independence is only recorded on a dark screen
Heirloom flags are worn out by age
Garuda looked down listlessly at its broken wings

Crying baby looking for milk under the city lights
Wrapped by his mother's screaming begging
A blind beggar walks around the country palace
Perverted officials laugh under the aisle of prison bars

Independence is the right of all nations
But independence is only felt by those who are enthroned
Delivering to the front gate of independence
But until now the door has remained locked for the destitute

Enrich the life of a nation
But stupidity still hangs in the heads of the country's children
Participate in carrying out world order
But disability and violence blanket their own country

We are under the sky called Indonesia
We stand on a land called Nusantara
But we were colonized by the country's rulers
We are trapped in a maze of real lies

There are imperfect paragraphs from the bottom of the country
There was tears pouring out from the bodies of the nation's heroes
There is an encouraging hope from commoners

If misery is the main part of independence
So until this nation closes the age of Pancasila is only a gaping wound.
West Jakarta, 010819











Eno El Fadjeri, born in West Jakarta 29-April-1982. An Advocate profession. His first poetry book is "My Wish is My Fear" 2014. His poetry is also found in several Poetry Anthology books with other poets, including; Remembering Home, Aquarium & Delusions, Stories in Literacy, Our Love for Indonesia, Bait Nusantara, and Lumbung Poetry Volume IV. Active Writer in several Literary and Poet groups. Several times won in poetry writing competitions, among others: Champion I poetry event I Love Indonesia, Champion I poetry competition held by the Poet's Footprint Group, Champion II poetry event organized Literary Literature Digdaya, Champion Best Poetry I in the Poetry Archives Competition organized by Bait Nusantara and the Active Writing Forum (FAM), and Award as the Two Best Poems in a mini poetry competition organized by Tebar Poetry.

37. Barokah Nawawi Excessive independence

37.

Barokah Nawawi

Excessive independence

Grandma said I was really happy
Born in an independent era
An age where there are no obstacles for anyone
To reach what is his goal.

Grandma said that this era was really fun
Technological advances make it no longer tired
So that you can leave time for recitation and worship.

Grandma said that my grandfather's fate was unlucky
Although smart can only graduate from Low School
Because my great-grandfather was just an ordinary farmer
Not officials or civil servants who supposedly said to have blue blood.

But I am proud of them
A hard worker who is persistent, honest and religious
Who was able to educate my father to become a bachelor
And the model teacher who was a role model for his students.

Dad is everything to me
I admire his proud figure but his heart is very soft and full of love
Caring about the family, community and environment
Without distinguishing status and wealth.

Which makes me ashamed even my own best friend
The current generation is the foundation of the nation
I thought clean officials were a lot of corrupt
But his wife instead clapped her chest and shouted out loud:
"That's just slander! "

These days it's hard to understand
Like my best friend who is now strange
After being released from prison, he became a legislative candidate
And now managed to sit in a soft seat as a respected member of the Board.

Merdeka is now a free freedom
Many representatives of the people who actually betrayed the people
Many justice enforcers are not upright or oblique
Many judges actually flirt with thieves
And many others that make the head dizzy seven around
And Mother Earth cries sadly without stopping.
Semarang, August 2019



Barokah,  was born, in Tremas Pacitan, 18 August 1954. Worked at PT Telkom since 1974 and retired early in 2002. Anthology of a single poem Bunga Bunga Semak, published by Haikuku Library in 2017.
Anthology of haiku together: Heart of the Moon - Haikuku Library 2018. Anthology of poetry with a.l: Mblekethek, Children of Grandchildren of Poets - Lumbung Poetry 2019. Country of Peace Longing, A world without coma - Literature of breezy 2019, Land on clouds - Rosebook 2018.

38. Agus Mursalin Shouted freedom in the Dictionary

38.

Agus Mursalin

Shouted freedom in the Dictionary

My initial steps were well intentioned
Morning in the east, evening in the west
Witnessing various faces
Gives a distinguishing meaning
The face of different tribes different nationalities different countries
One word that can be agreed upon in tears of sorrow
Laughter is a happy sign
Shaking his head not nodding in agreement
Without a dictionary all humans understand
Then what for
Learn other languages
If it results in differences in understanding
Result in a class debate on manners in the name of the word?
The meaning of words from perception
When can independence?
Kebumen August 1, 2019

39. Indri Yuswandari Where is the direction of the wind

39.

Indri Yuswandari

Where is the direction of the wind

On red soil and spilled tears
we look face to face
like stars and merjan scattered
like a pendulum swinging past time frame

I don't know where upstream we are
the aroma of sea water is very thick anesthetize thousands of fireflies lost light
the wind sniffs the strands of children sparkling hair

I don't know where the wind finds your shadow
dry afternoon that took me to your beach
sometimes naughty playing the tip of the dress reveals the dots of the journey between islands

Your greatness escapes the name of the road
Your glory is not recorded in palm leaves
The sky is watching the flame of incense at prayer
Earth saves love offerings to Mega
Kendal, 01.08.2019

40. Seruni Unie, My name is Pitaloka to: Commander Gajah Mada

40.

Seruni Unie,

My name is Pitaloka
to: Commander Gajah Mada

I am conquering you too, sir
For the history you write on this body
So great
To the whole country
Never flattering

But quite a moment
The rest I want to curse
The scheming of the past, where you lowered the price of women
Only ambition
                                      Listen, sir. I'm Pitaloka of this century
Until whenever, women will choose Belapati, for the sake of maintaining self-respect
Then no need to adigang adigung
On earth Pasundan, your name never floats
         Solo, 2018/2019
       




Seruni Unie, a connoisseur of poetry from Solo. A number of his writings had appeared in the media and a number of shared anthologies. Engaged in wasp literature. And selected 15 emerging UWRF 2017 authors.

41. Sri Sunarti Hope in the twilight park

41.

Sri Sunarti

Hope in the twilight park

red tinge perched on the horizon
birdsong chirping accompany the twilight
a cup of ginger flavor
among bare-breasted middle-aged men
feels like this country's problems are like unraveling tangled threads

red tinge increasingly lost in the dusk
two gulps and a piece of mangrove
seemed to treat confusion
at an increasingly fading bias

eroded the stench of corruption
drugged favors perverted drugs
tempted tempting prostitution

then you fill in what this country is
until the age of seventy four
just fake dreams
to ignore qolbu

until the evening comes
the man did not move from the court
mortal terrace
his face increasingly decisively hacking
desperate to prosper
beloved beautiful land like a jewel
Indramayu, August 2019


Sri Sunarti, born in Indramayu, May 24, 1965,
Following the joint national anthology include: Anthology of Recital Poetry from the State of Oil 11 Indramayu Poets, Indramayu Arts Council 2001, Anthology of Women Poetry at Intersections, 3 Indramayu Women's Poets, DKI 2003, Anthology of Sun Short Stories Cracking on Cimanuk DKI, 2010, Anthology of State Romanticism DKI Jakarta-Formasi Oil, Cimanuk, When The Birds Are Now Gone, Anthology of Poetry of 100 Poets of the Archipelago Lovz Rinz Publishing, Cirebon, 2016, We are Invaded Again, CV Media Pustaka, Yogyakarta, 2017; Tadarus Poetry, Modern Indonesian Poet, Joint Anthology, CV Media Reader, Yogyakarta, 2017.

42. Muhammad Jayadi Our Flag Is Still Red and White

42.

Muhammad Jayadi

Our Flag Is Still Red and White

In remembrance of the struggle in this country
there is a history that cannot be forgotten, forever etched
our flag's red and white motto
bold red and pure white
symbolize ancestors who struggle with soul, body, blood and tears

Are there memories embedded in memory?
so a warning that the independence of this country must be maintained, don't waste it
cleanse the soul by way of remembrance and thought about self affairs
do not be easily incited by fighting sheep
so that the struggle that is so exquisite we can continue
paint the beauty of the rainbow on the chest
kedamain created, life flows full of noble character.
Halong Kalsel 3 July 2019






Muhammad Jayadi, born on July 19, 1986 in the village of Galumbang, Balangan Regency, South Kalimantan. Become a fan of literature since middle school until now. And now residing in Halong Balangan

43. Sarwo Darmono Independent

43.

Sarwo Darmono

Independent

Live the Liberation
Face comes where life is
The face of the place is alive
The face of life is alive
Find out where you live
Free
It can affect the quality of your life
Can make a living
It can make life easier
Free
Always accept what you receive
Always keep in mind the owner
Keep worshiping and praying
Fury in the crowd
Free
Breathe in life with a sense of urgency
Sort of taste and work
be useful
Always invest decent
Tell me about it
With a taste of nala
Tan is not going to harvest it
All surrender to the will of the World
Lucky Thursday Pon
01082019

44. Ira Suyitno A Girl's Journey

44.

Ira Suyitno

A Girl's Journey

A woman walks down the hallway of time
Morning to night comes late
The steps resemble a running horse
Because the spirit that keeps burning
Like burning embers in a furnace a refuge barracks

A woman struggles for independence
Appease his soul
Clear his heart
Until the drops of dew in his body
Incarnated crystal in the gaping lip of the cave

A woman continues to achieve her dreams
I don't know how long the pulse will stop
Mojokerto, 31072019

Ira Suyitno, born in Pacitan, December 14 with the original name Bonirah. Learn to write poetry by yourself. Poetry and octopus published among others in Karya Darma, Surabaya Post, Bende, Radar, summarized also in anthology with Charity Stone, Association of Architects and Poets of the Archipelago, Anthite Pas Pasite, Anthology of RRI poetry in Surabaya, Anthology of Full Moon Majapahit Festifal Poetry, and Anthology of Poetry Architects, Archipelago Poetry Anthology; Resist Corruption 5.
Apart from being a mother of Fajar Laksana 22 years old and RoroPrima Jullintang 12 years old, Suyitno's wife works as an educator at SDN Modopuro 2, Mojosari Mojokerto.

45. Arya Setra The Meaning of Independence

45.

Arya Setra

The Meaning of Independence

The whir of sharp bullets that pierced
The cannon blows are deafening,
Standing straight eroded the earth's chest erupted ...
Shouted the fighters foster a spirit of independence even though covered in blood, torn, torn, persecuted and colonized in their own country.
Sacrifice of millions of lives, millions of assets and objects for the sake of one word "Freedom"
Freedom or Death is the watchword of warriors in order to maintain national pride ...
That's a piece of a sad story that delivered Me, You, and also them to an era, where virtual and real coexist in one time.
Free me ...
Free you ...
and Merdeka they are of course different.
For me to be independent is coffee independence, freedom is nudud, and freedom to work ...
if not...? I can die of style ....
August 1, 2019

46. Yoe Irawan Read the book in bushy pine leaves

46.

Yoe Irawan

Read the book in bushy pine leaves

Under the lush pine merkusii
He read a book that taught him to love trees

"Loving the tree preserves life."
So he said in a maintained intellectual intonation
Smell the mesopotamian civilization and the radiant renaissance

He loved reading books and of course being loving trees too
The tree home for birds after the weather
While the hills as wide as his eye wash
Still preaching the fall of cities

Centuries ago, mulberry was blended with Tsai Lun into paper
Then papyrus and pine for the sake of life more pithy
Become a manuscript in the heart of Baghdad. Tragic Tigris
But the book continued to spread until the American Library of Congress
Scattered in the British National Library in England
Although now there are no more postcards from old friends for him
The picture of the Taj Mahal or Eiffle Tower is far like a quivering longing
The letter never came. Thumping no longer displaced
Events like chasing in the roar of the wind on the rolling hills
Flashed but he had no time to remember what and who was between the fight and the joke

Under the lush pine merkusii
He read a book that taught him to love trees
So that reason continues to spread in the roots of shrubs

While he recalls the history of the forest and the birth of new cities
Through pines that fall into books
Sukabumi, January 18, 2019








Yoe Irawan, born in Kendal, Central Java, on June 26. Staying in the City of Sukabumi, West Java.
His poetry works are included in: Anthology of national joint poetry including: Indonesia 1997 (Indonesian Literature Community & Space Publishers, Bandung, 1997), Jakarta in Recent Poetry (Jakarta Culture Office and Jakarta Literature Society, 2000), 142 Poets to the Moon (Literary Study Group Banjarbaru & Kalalatu Press, South Kalimantan, 2006), Kado Cinta (Collection of Poetry, Uwais Indie, 2015) etc. His short story entitled "Teacher For Ra" became the short story in the 2017 Kagama Virtual short story contest, and his short story entitled "A Piece of Wings in May" became the best general short story in the 2019 short story and poetry copyright contest (Kota Kata Kita, DKI Provincial Disparbud Jakarta and Poetry Day Foundation, 2019).

47. Dewa Putu Sahadewa a journey

47.

Dewa Putu Sahadewa

a journey

Digging repeatedly
self
I found the sound source
where the sun hides the heat
and the rain finds its nest.
     
"In the middle of a blood field
You're a flag stake
You doubt Indonesia. "


The further I walk
the voice changed lamentations
and the wind erodes the hills
a place where children dance to an independent dance.


"In the middle of a blood field
You're a flag stake
You doubt Indonesia "


I will keep going
decades away
but that voice
will last.
Kupang, August 2019



Dewa Putu Sahadewa , Born in Denpasar in 1969
Writing poetry since middle school, around the 1980s was very active in the world of Literature
The new one continued again in 2015 and 2016 with two anthologies of single poetry, as well as dozens of anthologies of poetry together. Active in Kupang until now as an obstetrician, while being a provocateurs and members in several literary and literary communities, including being one of the founders of Jatijagat Kampung Poetry in Bali.

48 Sambaulu Risen Traces of Struggle

48

Sambaulu Risen

Traces of Struggle

Late at night towards dawn
People are slaves
And have time, sir

Trapped in body
Poor body
Waiting is certain, sir

And to my soul
Maybe we fight

When the sun reigns
Echoes and rhythms
The beautiful handsome chicken, at dawn
The travel signal is not over yet

And to the rulers of the night
Darkness must have struck
As long as you are aware
The presence of moon and stars
We will not get lost, sir

Dawn always comes
We are prisoners
Occupied time and ego

Silent night
Delivering back
Into the lap of dawn

People
Not yet independent

Risen Sambaulu, is a poet who was born in Tomohon on December 20, 1999 and lives in Minahasa, North Sulawesi.

49 Nok Ir Free in the soul of the universe

49

Nok Ir

Free in the soul of the universe

Fighting one by one
In the wild arena, scented nanar
Jungle arrogance became the main measure
Power is above all
The marginal as a snack
Hunger sores are getting more circular
Impossible easily erased rain sorry

Domestic partners formed a conspiracy
Spread of spider webs creates thirst for rulers
The great colony is the law which is confined
Uploading arrogant moaning complaining
The ideology pillars are increasingly being eaten away
The net mesh ensnares miserable faces
Give birth to future babies wallowing with jeri images

Has the body been free?
Free the flowers of hope
The road that runs is blocked by obstacles
Obstruct severe greedy intentions
Fragility of solidarity is increasingly littering
Estuary the invaders increasingly moved
Gray tyranny is often shackled

Independence is not just a negating speech
Must be markedly reflected
In the active stretching of the people incised achievements
Which so many times eroded oligarchic mirage
Nusantara looked up hope you swordsman at a glance gahar
Fend off the newer invaders under the guise of a hero
Grind independence with the illusion of egoism
Adhere to the freedom spans of various lines
The road to independence thanks to the blood of life in tears
Sumenep, 31 July 2019




Nok Ir, is the name of the pen used by Hj. Khoiroh, S. Pd. Elementary school in his works. Born in Demak, this January 28 lives in Sumenep to serve as an educator. His work in the form of short stories and poetry has been collected in a variety of anthologies with fellow writers at home and abroad. Last September 2018, one of his poems entitled "Kali Tuntang in North Kauman" was included in the Nomination Poetry Nomination in the grand event of 1000 Teachers Writing Poetry recorded in MURI Records. His work has been collected in Anthology with Poetry September 2, Anthology of Poetry with Us, Embara Poetry, Marine Women, Mata Cinta, Nation of the Father, Roots of Mother, Short Story Anthology of Culture, Tadarus Poetry, Book of Pentigraph 2 Advertisements on the Front Door, Anthology of Teacher's Poetry About A Book and Secret Science, Country Above the Clouds, A Skyful of Rain-Banjarbaru's 2018 Rainy Day Literary Festival, Our Anthology Is the Emerald Emerald of the Equator, Anthology of Natural Word Poetry, Book of Pentigraph 3, Anthology of 1000 Early Sides, Teachers' Notes Because of Work, Mother's Anthology.

50. Wanto Tirta Bloody Note

50.

Wanto Tirta

Bloody Note

I opened the note from the sheet
diary
bomb boom
blood flowing
in the land of blood
children's souls
daddy's widow
husband of the sword
drenched in blood

build steel souls
gunpowder sky collapsed closing the period
the roof of the cloud house
crying and whirring bullets
fused everyday heartbreaking

earth's persecuted prayers
convey to your hands
most liberator of state-owned land

tears of melting blood
not tired of leaning on the glory of God
unity of hope and determination
wrapping love struggle unites red and white in a handheld

Is Garuda still hugging love?
cure chronic wounds
by the incision of the knife of greed as well as the lust of freedom that enslaved the freedom of civilization of the nation's children

there are tears from the headstone ancestors
the fragile is covered in grass
forgotten by his relatives
there was a pointy bamboo stick still clearly plastered with blood
engraved in the tomb
as if to say
This is the navel of the earth where nails love
stuck free from the shackles of injustice and arbitrariness of the regime of power

let footsteps tread
a stroll in the archipelago park
knit the beauty of fellow nation's civilization to be free of suffering
free daddy loudly speaking

01082019

Wanto Tirta, Born and raised in the village of Kracak Ajibarang, Banyumas, Central Java
Writing poetry and geguritan. His poem is contained in several anthology books.
Reading poetry and geguritan from the RT stage or the performing arts stage. Play theater and ketoprak. Engaged in the Community of Outskirts (KOPI)
2015 received the Gatra Budaya award from the Banyumas Regency Government
2017 became the nominee of Javanese Language and Literature Activist from Central Java Language Center.

51 Suhendi RI Eye of the Pen

51

Suhendi RI

Eye of the Pen

Gaze blankly at the corner of the room
A book lying
Helpless on the table
While the dervish is sound asleep
Hugged quietly

Ink that carves a historical trail
Become eternal verses
Even if it is destroyed, it is read by termites
The story is recorded in ancient memories

When daybreak opens the morning curtain
The soul wanders to another soul
Looking for alif lam mim
In the Fayakun Manuscripts

Before the pen's eyes are dazzled
Sparkling golden lights and gems
Wake up from the transience of the world

When you arrive at the end page
Understand the true meaning of words
Kebon Jeruk, July 19, 2019

Suhendi RI, born in Bekasi, September 25, 1986. Fun writer who likes underground music. His poetry incorporated in several anthology books is also contained in various media. Podium (2015) collection of single poetry books.