We, You and I

Duty is not the only
Thing that matters
As it is just
The way we are,
You are, I am

Role we are assigned
With that comes without
Any of our permissions
As it is who we are,
You are, I am

They overlap, tugging
Our conscience without
Any sorts of mercy
As it is who we are,
You are, I am

Priority collapses, broken
By sequential hurdles
Emerging from each sides
As it is who we are,
You are, I am

Time consumed vigorously
By a mere act of thinking
Without making any resolve
As it is who we are,
You are, I am

Who are we?
Who are you?
Who am I?

Rancangan Awal Penelitian - Wacana Ambivalensi pada Karya-karya Derek Walcott

Dalam salah satu tulisannya yang berjudul “Signs Taken for Wonders”,[1] Bhaba menjelaskan bahwa segala permasalahan ataupun pembahasan yang berkaitan dengan masalah kolonial selalu bersifat ambivalen atau kontradiktif. Baik dalam hal munculnya transparansi yang pada akhirnya menimbulkan adanya pembedaan ruang, kedudukan dan kadar pengetahuan antara satu dengan yang lain, atau bahkan dalam terbentuknya sebuah hibriditas yang nantinya menyebabkan adanya distorsi dalam rangkaian proses wacana kolonial yang ada. Walaupun demikian, cakupan pembahasan yang telah disajikan oleh Bhabha nampak begitu luas—cenderung berkaitan dengan sebuah komunitas—sehingga terlihat tidak memberikan perhatian yang selaras terhadap individu-individu pembangun masyarakat yang sama. Selain daripada itu, merujuk kepada anggapan yang telah disampaikan Bhabha bahwa “The discovery of the book…is, as well, a process of displacement” (penemuan buku adalah juga merupakan sebuah proses pemindahan),[2] terdapat sebuah keterkaitan antara buku—atau literatur; tulisan—dengan proses perpindahan atau perubahan tempat yang menimbulkan suatu distorsi lain ketika tulisan tersebut diulang, diterjemahkan, dan di salah artikan. Bisa dikatakan, buku ataupun tulisan merupakan salah satu media ataupun pemicu munculnya ambivalensi-ambivalensi dalam masyarakat dan wacana kolonial. Maka dari itu, dengan pemahaman akan adanya kaitan tulisan dengan ambivalensi dalam wacana kolonial tersebut, saya akan coba untuk memusatkan penelitian saya terhadap gejala-gejala wacana ambivalensi yang disajikan dalam karya-karya milik Derek Walcott.  

Question of Passion

Important, it is, one’s genuine compassion

All that mater relates to one’s concrete passion

Yet, it is troubled, when one does not have the reason

A pity, indeed, yet it does situate such a confusion

Thought, it was a matter of making a choice

Following, obeying, your heart’s own voice

Without being aware of a loss of interest

Spoiling one self, the priority that came first

Too many questions, none were and are answered

Fear and anxiety, things that makes us cornered

Yet worry not, such matter lies without a context

It is a thing, against us we cannot protect

As I Finish My Blink

He rolls over, around, his fluffy bed

Rather waking up, he dozes up instead

No intention for being tidy, he rises

Walking through the mountain of laundry and dishes

A gallant finger turned on the switches

With his careless eyes to the screen he glances

Books and papers is meant to be unfinished

The few things with he will never be astonished

Beholding the others, he recollect his grief

Turning into tantrum, each is very brief

Far and becoming a stranger to such a stable

His thoughts are nothing but trouble

The man is gone, as I finish my blink

And I take my time, simply to think

Nothing seems to right, but merely an error

As my own self appear on the face of a mirror

Critical Theory's Final Assignment: The Muse of Story

Nameless I came among olives of algae,

Fœtus of plankton, I remember nothing…

—Derek Walcott, Origins (1964)

In an attempt of writing, looking for the muse seems to be one of the most popular reasons, especially when one is not having the urge to write one. As platonic as it may seem, people do keep on finding and constructing the arguments to justify them upon attempting such approach. However, muse itself is not something that ought to aid us in the matter of writing. Muse is a state, it is something that we get involve with. Muse is not an idea, but a thought. It is something that is achieved through the process of thinking and involvement, not the process of waiting and being patient. Nonetheless, questions arise; what influences the muse? What influences the thoughts? It depends. The root of language has managed to spread its seeds within the minds of man, including the buds of arbitrariness. It flourishes between the thoughts and multitude of influential aspects that a man may have. One of which is a man’s memory, history and past—a man problematic correlation with time. With such idea as the foreground, through the following elaborations I would like to point out that the influence of memory within a man—along with a man’s history and past—manifests through the hysteria, amnesia, unhomeliness and act of censorship situated, presented, and represented within the writings.    

Response 2: Women in History

We may say that in our present time, women are now able to finally write for their own selves. However, the mere availability and also the ability to write does not necessarily means that what they have written, are writing, or will be writing is not always be considered fully as a woman’s writing, or women’s writings in general. As ironic as it is, the abundant probabilities for women in terms of writing ended up being taken for granted as some may have no clue about what women’s writing truly is, or what it will talk about, what it will do. It is true that to fully understand the idea of women’s writing one must be willing to explore further within the intertwined path of the never ending maze relating to the main concern, gender-based discourses.

The Word That Is Proper

Hush, bust, gust;

Trust, must, dust

All expelled, in careless sighs

Too severe for me to cry

As rain taking its steps in a hurry

The droplets scattered like a gory

Pain that has become such acquaintance

A routine that does not make any sense

Pointless to exploit oneself in searching for the reason

Yet to not to is considered as an act of treason

And, then again, Pain might not be the word that is proper

It is just something, for me, is hard to look over

Disturbed yet grateful

Though looked pitiful

As it aids such self through;

Such night that seems never due

As it shrouds such self with;

Such darkness that never forfeits