PUISI: Di Hadapan Etalase Kekuasaan — Hukum Belajar Berbisik
PUISI: Di Hadapan Etalase Kekuasaan — Hukum Belajar Berbisik
Malam di sebuah jalan niaga pusat kota,
lampu etalase menyala seperti iman pada transaksi
sementara keresahan berkumpul
rapi dan tertib,
belum sempat menjadi suara.
Di hadapan etalase kekuasaan,
kata-kata masih di dada
orasi belum lahir,
namun borgol telah disiapkan
lebih matang dari nalar.
Seragam-seragam membaca kerumunan
sebagai gangguan,
bukan sebagai pertanyaan
Prosedur berdiri tegak,
akal sehat diminta menunggu giliran.
Pertanyaannya sederhana:
siapa pemilik negeri
yang rajin menyebut hukum
namun alergi pada ingatan?
Mengapa izin melunak ke atas,
dan mengeras saat datang dari bawah?
Malam itu,
nama ditahan lebih dulu dari pendapat.
Aktivis menjadi angka,
keberatan menjelma baris laporan
Sebuah kerangkeng yang gemar mencatat sunyi
menyimpan suara
yang belum sempat hidup.
Tak ada batu — tak ada api.
Hanya keberatan yang ingin tertib
Namun tertib rupanya
punya dua kamus:
satu milik kuasa,
satu lagi milik yang diawasi.
Jika kritik harus berbisik agar selamat
maka dengarkan bisikan ini baik-baik:
keamanan bukan pembungkaman —
ketegasan bukan ketakutan —
dan hukum runtuh wibawanya
saat lebih cepat mengunci
daripada memahami.
==================
POETRY: Before the Showcase of Power, Law Learns to Whisper
At night on a downtown commercial street,
the storefront lights glow like faith in the transaction
while unrest gathers
neatly and orderly,
not yet having time to become a voice.
Before the showcase of power,
the words are still in the chest
the speech has not yet been born,
but the handcuffs have been prepared
more mature than reason.
The uniforms read the crowd
as a nuisance,
not as a question
Procedure stands upright,
common sense is asked to wait its turn.
The question is simple:
who owns the country
who diligently mentions the law
but is allergic to memory?
Why does permission soften upwards,
and harden when it comes from below?
That night,
names are withheld before opinions.
Activists become numbers,
objections become lines of reports.
A cage that loves to record silence
storing voices
that haven't had a chance to live.
No stone → no fire.
Only objections that want order.
But order apparently
has two dictionaries:
one belongs to the powerful,
the other belongs to those being watched.
If critics must whisper to be safe,
then listen carefully to these whispers:
security is not silencing,
firmness is not fear,
and the law collapses its authority
when it is quicker to lock
than to understand.
==================
Poetry by @HelmyZainuddin
Genre: Poetry Essay
@Copyright Reserved
Illustration Image, Doc: CAKRAWALA NEWS
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TAGS: Poetry, Puisi, Essay,
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