April 23, 2026

“The School in the Forgotten Land”: A Poetry Collection by Leni Marlina (PPIPM-Indonesia, Poetry-Pen IC, Indonesian Writer of Satu Pena, Indonesian Creator of AI Era, FSM, ACC SHILA)

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Ilustrasi "Sekolah di Negeri yang Terlupakan": Kumpulan Puisi Leni Marlina (PPIPM-Indonesia, Poetry-Pen IC, Satu Pena Sumbar, Kreator Era AI, FSM, ACC SHILA). Sumber Gambar: Starcom Indonesia's Artwork No. 925-290 (Assisted by AI).

By: Leni Marlina

/1/

The School in the Forgotten Land

Poem by Leni Marlina

[PPIPM-Indonesia, Poetry-Pen IC, Indonesian Writer of Satu Pena, Indonesian Creator of AI Era, FSM, ACC SHILA]

I have seen it—
a school folded into the earth’s exhaustion,
its roof dying like a forgotten sky,
its windows staring blankly,
eyes hollow with the weight of time retreating.

Here,
in this school,
in this forsaken land,
chalk no longer moves across the board
but freezes in the silence of a civilization asleep.
Desks peel like memories,
never rewritten, never recalled.

Yet I hear them,
children born from blank pages,
plucking letters from the air,
sewing alphabets into the dust,
writing them anew upon the body of the earth.

Then the bell tolls,
as if announcing a death—
yet it wakes the slumbering,
those waiting within these walls,
longing for the dawn of learning’s return,
so this land may stand tall once more,
after being forgotten for far too long.

Bukittinggi, West Sumatra,
INDONESIA 2002

/2/

Silent Execution in the Schoolyard

Poem by Leni Marlina

[PPIPM-Indonesia, Poetry-Pen IC, Indonesian Writer of Satu Pena, Indonesian Creator of AI Era, FSM, ACC SHILA]

Time has collapsed at the school gate,
its hands buried in the silt of forgetting.
The sky, rusting at its edges,
casts shadows of teachers turned to stone,
reading ghostly syllabi
from the ruins of a calendar.

Beyond the fence, civilization knocks—
with hammers and seals,
signatures that erase history
with the weight of indifference.

They say this school is dead,
yet children return in silent lines,
clutching books half-consumed by fire,
whispering lessons into the wind,
as if knowledge could rise again
from the embers of what was taken.

Inside, invisible chalk
writes numbers not yet counted,
formulas never concluded,
sentences yearning for an end.

And from the ashes,
a defiance flickers—
letters they thought erased
ignite once more,
for ignorance is a tomb
no child chooses to enter.

Bukittinggi, West Sumatra
INDONESIA, 2002

/3/

The Laboratory in Flames

Poem by Leni Marlina

[PPIPM-Indonesia, Poetry-Pen IC, Indonesian Writer of Satu Pena, Indonesian Creator of AI Era, FSM, ACC SHILA]

Within these singed walls,
test tubes cradle embers,
microscopes weep for sights now lost,
searching for truth
through the swirl of dust.

Look—
they emerge from the corridors of time,
children forsaken by history,
gathering formulas left behind,
stitching broken equations
back into the fabric of tomorrow.

They count stars with trembling hands,
read gravity in whispers of forgotten ink,
turning ashes into blueprints,
etching civilization anew
with numbers stolen from silence.

This laboratory did not burn in vain—
it merely transfigured its fire,
forging its embers into torches
to light the thresholds
of human thought.

Bukittinggi, West Sumatra
INDONESIA, 2002

/4/

The Vanished Classroom

Poem by Leni Marlina

[PPIPM-Indonesia, Poetry-Pen IC, Indonesian Writer of Satu Pena, Indonesian Creator of AI Era, FSM, ACC SHILA]

The room is empty,
but its walls still hum with echoes,
the murmurs of lessons never unlearned.

Desks bear no names now,
yet they remember the weight
of small hands reaching for knowledge.

The blackboard stands like a tombstone,
but someone—
someone has come
and written a single word:

“Hope.”

Through these hollow halls,
the wind carries voices—
not as mere memories,
but as prayers refusing
to die.

Bukittinggi, West Sumatra
INDONESIA, 2002

/5/

A Teacher in a School That No Longer Stands

Poem by Leni Marlina

[PPIPM-Indonesia, Poetry-Pen IC, Indonesian Writer of Satu Pena, Indonesian Creator of AI Era, FSM, ACC SHILA]

I am a teacher,
standing in the bones of a school
where once the sun kissed rooftops,
where light once spilled onto blackboards,
where children once built futures
out of fragile words.

Now, only ruins remain,
but I do not teach stone and dust.
I speak to the unborn,
to those still reaching for lessons
in the air, in the silence, in the void.

My children,
wherever you may be,
listen—this school still stands
in the books you hold,
in the words you whisper through sleepless nights,
in the hunger for knowledge
even when the world has turned away.

A school is not a building—
it is a spirit
that refuses to be buried.

Bukittinggi, West Sumatra
INDONESIA, 2002

/6/

A School That Still Breathes

Poem by Leni Marlina

[PPIPM-Indonesia, Poetry-Pen IC, Indonesian Writer of Satu Pena, Indonesian Creator of AI Era, FSM, ACC SHILA]

They said it was gone—
a name swallowed by dust,
a silence where laughter once rose,
a memory fading like ink in rain.

But listen—
the wind still hums the alphabet,
chalk whispers against the bones of the walls,
and somewhere, unseen hands
turn the pages of forgotten books.

A school does not die
as long as knowledge still hungers,
as long as minds still reach
through the wreckage,
grasping at lessons
not yet erased.

It breathes in the voices of those who remember,
it walks in the dreams of those who seek,
it rises, brick by vanished brick,
in every soul
that refuses to let it disappear.

Bukittinggi, West Sumatra
INDONESIA, 2002

/7/

Tall Towers, Fractured Floors

Poem by Leni Marlina

[PPIPM-Indonesia, Poetry-Pen IC, Indonesian Writer of Satu Pena, Indonesian Creator of AI Era, FSM, ACC SHILA]

Glass towers rise,
mirroring the sky—
but beneath their feet,
the floors crack like forgotten promises.

In the corridors, children line up,
not for knowledge,
but for survival—
like birds with no nest,
searching for crumbs of wisdom
falling from the lips of men in suits.

They say education is light,
yet in the narrow alleys,
lamps flicker out
faster than the faith
they once carried.

On the screen, a minister proclaims,
“We have built a thousand new schools!”
But the fractured floors do not lie,
and the broken chalk still whispers
the names of children
abandoned by the system.

Bukittinggi, West Sumatra
INDONESIA, 2002

/8/

Fragile as an Exam Paper

Poem by Leni Marlina

[PPIPM-Indonesia, Poetry-Pen IC, Indonesian Writer of Satu Pena, Indonesian Creator of AI Era, FSM, ACC SHILA]

Rickety desks,
exam papers stained with dust and hope,
answers scribbled in whispers,
for the price of a lesson
costs more than a father’s wage.

Outside, the rain falls like punctuation,
dividing those who may sit in class
from those who sell ice at red lights.

A child traces the letter A
with dirt-streaked fingers,
while his mother waits by the roadside,
counting how many sheets of paper
might fill an empty plate.

Bukittinggi, West Sumatra
INDONESIA, 2002

/9/

A School That Never Came Home

Poem by Leni Marlina

[PPIPM-Indonesia, Poetry-Pen IC, Indonesian Writer of Satu Pena, Indonesian Creator of AI Era, FSM, ACC SHILA]

By the roadside,
a child sings,
not of alphabets,
not of numbers,
but of cracked classroom floors,
and a teacher who left weeks ago.

He holds a book filled with pictures,
but the letters have vanished in dust,
like dreams drowned beneath
piles of scrap and rusted iron.

“School is a way out,”
his mother says,
but what if the road is walled off?
What if the gates are too high,
and the ticket in
costs more than a sack of rice?

The child stops singing,
watching a passing bus,
inside, children laugh—
reading golden books
he will never hold.

Bukittinggi, West Sumatra
INDONESIA, 2002

/10/

The Lost Monument of Education

Poem by Leni Marlina

[PPIPM-Indonesia Poetry-Pen IC, Indonesian Writer of Satu Pena, Indonesian Creator of AI Era, FSM, ACC SHILA]

Ladies and gentlemen,
behold the schools standing like monuments—
grand, gleaming, yet empty,
for their doors only open
to the fortunate few.

Beneath them, children sell newspapers,
reading the same headline every day:
“Another Child Drops Out Due to Poverty.”

Inside the classrooms,
the teachers’ voices fade,
drowned beneath the clatter of money—
louder than any lesson ever taught.

And at night,
inside cramped homes,
a child draws a school on the wall,
writing his name in charcoal black,
for he knows—
that may be the only place
his name will ever remain.

Bukittinggi, West Sumatra
INDONESIA, 2002

—————————————-

About the Poet and Her Works

There was never a grand plan—just a quiet restlessness searching for a home, a flicker of thought finding its way onto paper. It was 2002. Fresh from winning the Regional Indonesian Undergraduate Students Scientific Writing Competition (LKTM) in education at Universitas Negeri Padang, Leni Marlina found herself scribbling verses in the margins of her notebooks. At the time, they were nothing more than passing reflections, captured in fleeting moments.

She didn’t expect those early words to stay with her. But as years passed, they found their way back—like old friends knocking gently at her heart, asking, Do you still remember us? Some felt distant, their voices changed with time. Others remained familiar, whispering in tones she had never truly left behind. In 2025, she decided to bring them into the world again, revisiting, revising, and finally sharing them with the openness they had always deserved.

Writing has always been a quiet refuge—a place to return to when the world felt overwhelming. But over time, Leni realized literature is not just about writing; it’s about listening, sharing, and growing together. This understanding led her deeper into education and literacy, not as an expert, but as someone still learning—still walking the same path as those who seek meaning in words.

Through the Indonesian Writers’ Association (SATU PENA), she connected with a wider literary community in West Sumatra, chaired by poet and former bureaucrat Sastri Bakry, with the national organization founded by Denny J.A. On an international scale, she became part of the ACC Shanghai International Literary Writers’ Association and was honored as Indonesia’s Poetry Ambassador for the ACC Shanghai Huifeng International Literary Association, founded and led by artist and poet Anna Keiko. While studying in Australia in 2012, she also had the chance to learn from Victoria’s Writers Association, where she saw how literature could bridge diverse cultures.

But among all these experiences, what she values most is the opportunity to share. Since 2006, she has been teaching in the English Literature Program at Universitas Negeri Padang. For her, teaching is not just a profession—it’s a window into the world through the eyes of her students, filled with fresh curiosity and boundless dreams.

Beyond the classroom, Leni has dedicated herself to creating spaces where literature can be a part of everyday life. She founded and nurtures several communities, each with a shared purpose: to explore the power of words in different ways.

1. World Children’s Literature Community (WCLC) – a space to foster a love of reading and storytelling, especially in children’s literature. Some activities can be found here: WCLC

2. Poetry-Pen International Community – a platform where poets from around the world give voice to humanity, justice, and the beauty of life.

3. PPIPM (Pondok Puisi Inspirasi Pemikiran Masyarakat) – a community that uses poetry as a medium for reflection and inspiration. Some works and activities can be seen here: PPIPM 1, PPIPM 2

4. Starcom Indonesia Community (Starmoonsun Edupreneur Community Indonesia) – a network at the intersection of literature, education, and digital entrepreneurship. Activities and works can be explored here: Starcom Indonesia

5. Linguistic Talk Community – a discussion space for language and linguistics enthusiasts.

6. Literature Talk Community – a gathering place for those who wish to explore the depths of literature.

7. Translation Practice Community – a learning hub for the art of translation, particularly between Indonesian and English.

8. English Language Learning, Literacy, and Literary Community (EL4C) – bridging education, literacy, and literature.

For Leni, writing is not about chasing recognition—it’s about connection. A single poem, a single line, can create ripples that reach places the writer never imagined. And that, more than anything, is what keeps her returning to the page.