{"id":12039,"date":"2025-03-20T19:36:45","date_gmt":"2025-03-20T19:36:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blog.revistaderecenzii.com\/?p=12039"},"modified":"2025-03-21T06:38:55","modified_gmt":"2025-03-21T06:38:55","slug":"poeme-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.revistaderecenzii.com\/index.php\/2025\/03\/20\/poeme-3\/","title":{"rendered":"poeme"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
Preg\u0103tirea pentru c\u00e2mp...<\/strong><\/em>

Aranj\u00e2ndu-\u0219i p\u0103l\u0103ria pe cap, 
\u021b\u0103ranul se duce spre cal: \u00eei pune hamul, 
s\u0103 ias\u0103 la c\u00e2mp, pentru sem\u0103nat.

Parfumul boabelor de porumb 
iese din s\u0103cui, precum cobra, 
din co\u0219ul dresorului.

Femeia nu-\u0219i g\u0103se\u0219te opincile.
-Uit\u0103-le aici, sub pom, 
\u00eei strig\u0103 b\u0103rbatul cu of de sup\u0103rare, 
dar \u0219i de \u0219ag\u0103, totodat\u0103.
-Cum ajung s\u0103 m\u0103 \u00eencal\u021b? \u00eentreab\u0103 ea, 
bosumflat\u0103.
-Pe s\u00e2rm\u0103, drag\u0103! Cine mai este ca tine? 
O acrobat\u0103 am \u0219i eu \u00een curte!
-Dar, \u00een spinarea ta, nu sui eu?

Ascult\u0103tor, 
\u021b\u0103ranul \u00ee\u0219i ia \u00een c\u00e2rc\u0103 soa\u021ba, 
precum apa se \u00eendreapt\u0103 spre mal, 
alunec\u00e2nd pe spinarea pe\u0219tilor.

-Dar, omule, nu puteai s\u0103 mi le aduci 
la scar\u0103 tu? 
\u021ai-ai omor\u00e2t spinarea degeaba! \u0218i, la c\u00e2mp, 
\u00eemi vei striga, toat\u0103 ziua, 
c\u0103 ai obosit din culpa mea.
-Ia, du-te, femeie, mai \u00eencolo 
\u0219i m\u0103 las\u0103! O \u00eempinge, u\u0219or, \u00eenspre cas\u0103. 
M-oi descurca eu \u0219i de aceast\u0103 dat\u0103.

Femeia r\u0103mase acas\u0103, la somn. 
\u00cei va duce, mai t\u00e2rziu, ulciorul cu ap\u0103.

R\u0103mase la somn?
S-o cread\u0103 ea! 
B\u0103rbatul o smulge ca pe floare 
\u0219i o a\u0219ez\u0103 \u00een c\u0103ru\u021b\u0103, pe b\u0103ncu\u021b\u0103, l\u00e2ng\u0103 sine 
\u0219i-i d\u0103 bice pe spinare bidiviului pur-s\u00e2nge.



Planuri de b\u0103taie<\/strong><\/em>

N\u0103v\u0103lise \u00een cas\u0103 imaginea florilor de c\u00e2mp. 
Impactul a fost de necuprins \u00een carte.

O g\u0103in\u0103 \u00ee\u0219i sp\u00e2nzur\u0103 strig\u0103tul de garduri. 
Urechile mele dau fuga s\u0103-l salveze, 
de la pr\u0103bu\u0219irea \u00een spa\u021biu. 

Fantasme zg\u00e2l\u021b\u00e2ie c\u00e2inele. 
L\u0103tratul \u00eei sare din g\u00e2t. 

Amurgul s-a r\u0103nit. 
Vin femei s\u0103-i str\u00e2ng\u0103 s\u00e2ngele \u00een vase. 

Un purcelu\u0219 rumen, cu m\u0103rul \u00een gur\u0103, 
este instalat \u00een peisaj 
\u0219i concureaz\u0103 ridicolul lanului de porumb, 
care-l toac\u0103, demult, cu \u00eentrebarea: 
tunurile armatei napoleoniene au bubuit?

De la epole\u021bi, spre univers, 
sute de corole migreaz\u0103 \u00een lini\u0219te. 
Spiritul cuiva extrem de caustic 
le va desfoia p\u00e2n\u0103 la esen\u021be. 

\u00cen soare, 
planurile de b\u0103taie ca ni\u0219te semin\u021be 
a\u0219teapt\u0103 m\u00e2na indiferent\u0103 
s\u0103 le arunce \u00een lume. 

Deschid o parantez\u0103, 
\u00een care se a\u0219terne c\u00e2mpia \u00eentunecat\u0103. 
Ghiulele banale rup c\u0103m\u0103\u0219i curate de in.








Dup\u0103 zece ani...<\/em><\/strong>


Deschiz\u00e2nd fereastra istoriei, 
Penelopa c\u0103uta cu privirea \u00een orizont, 
dincolo de bolboroseala caierului de l\u00e2n\u0103.
 
Atent s\u0103 nu-l doboare din av\u00e2nt 
urzeala pesc\u0103ru\u0219ilor, 
Ulise punea piciorul pe scara 
de c\u00e2ntece 
a sirenelor, 
dar,  
de pe raftul bibliotecii, 
a c\u0103zut, 
cu zgomot nou de coper\u021bi, 
romanul, 
bine vascularizat, 
al lui Joyce; s-a pr\u0103bu\u0219it 
\u00een ograda sfioasei Ofelii,
peste slujba\u0219i. 

Zeii s-au ferit din calea paginilor. 
Ar fi putut fi sufla\u021bi de curen\u021bi 
\u00een versuri improprii. 
S-ar fi reg\u0103sit fa\u021b\u0103 \u00een fa\u021b\u0103 cu \u00eengerii, 
astfel \u00eenc\u00e2t \u0219i-ar fi pierdut aripile, 
arse de aure. 

Scriitura love\u0219te malul numit \u201eOm\", 
cu amintirile, 
s\u0103p\u00e2nd ad\u00e2nc \u00een g\u00e2ndire, 
p\u00e2n\u0103 c\u00e2nd \u00eel oblig\u0103 
s\u0103 se descopere singur, 
ca un vapor, 
\u00een fa\u021ba singur\u0103t\u0103\u021bilor. 





Insomnii<\/em><\/strong>


Trezire la ore ciudate, telefonul ca un judec\u0103tor implacabil,
4,30, sim\u021buri \u00een dezacord, oboseal\u0103 \u0219i nelini\u0219te,
televizorul devine tovar\u0103\u0219 de insomnie,
dramaturgie nocturn\u0103, \u00een speran\u021ba unui somn fugar.

Rutina adoptat\u0103 \u00een zilele mai lene\u0219e,
ochi \u00eenchi\u0219i, cosmosul palpit\u00e2nd \u00een surdin\u0103,
liber s\u0103 pluteasc\u0103 \u00een vremea etern\u0103,
f\u0103r\u0103 a l\u0103sa urme \u00een tumultul vital.

Du\u0219ul devine ritual de trezire,
g\u00e2nduri despre greutatea b\u0103tr\u00e2ne\u021bii,
sub apa cald\u0103, reflec\u021bii inopinate,
\u00een euforia \u00eemprosp\u0103t\u0103rii sub para de metal.

Totu\u0219i, \u00eentreb\u0103rile despre b\u0103tr\u00e2ne\u021be persist\u0103,
fredonez \u00eencet o melodie, 
f\u0103r\u0103 tracul pe care-l am, 
dac\u0103 ar fi s\u0103-l c\u00e2nt \u00een fa\u021ba oricui, 
chiar a unui manechin ne\u00eensufle\u021bit, 
c\u00e2nd m-a\u0219 bloca\u2026



Poem de toamn\u0103 <\/em><\/strong>


\u00cen pom, at\u00e2rn\u0103 triste\u021bea ca un sac f\u0103r\u0103 frunze.
O g\u00e2nganie se t\u00e2r\u0103\u0219te, \u00een spate cu ultimele ei clipe.
Soarele cade \u00een curte \u0219i razele r\u0103sun\u0103,
ca lovitura de be\u021be \u00een tob\u0103.
Ar fi posibil s\u0103 treac\u0103, 
pe l\u00e2ng\u0103 planet\u0103, 
lumina cerului?
Cu binoclul, dintr-o p\u0103dure, am urm\u0103ri-o,
urca\u021bi unul peste altul, ca un st\u00e2lp \u2013 v\u0103zut din cosmos drept o raz\u0103 uscat\u0103.
Din c\u00e2nd \u00een c\u00e2nd, 
m\u0103 refugiez \u00een trecutul pe care-l port \u00een sinea mea, ca pe o bijuterie
\u0219i nicio eroare f\u0103cut\u0103, 
oric\u00e2nd anterior, 
nu este mai grav\u0103 dec\u00e2t \u00eenaintarea \u00een v\u00e2rst\u0103.
Viitorul, 
spre care nu p\u0103\u0219esc, 
\u00eemi semnaleaz\u0103 propria-i sosire,
albindu-mi firul de p\u0103r.





Matca <\/em><\/strong>


De pl\u0103cere, 
caut ast\u0103zi s\u0103 m\u0103 urc \u00een m\u00e2ndrul cat, 
dinspre care s\u0103 v\u0103d p\u0103s\u0103rile albe 
lic\u0103rind \u00een priveli\u0219tea de sare.

Dincolo de semnele zeilor, 
pe care le-a\u0219 putea deslu\u0219i, 
f\u0103r\u0103 s\u0103 apelez 
la sclipirea de geniu a oracolului, 
este acea matc\u0103, 
de la care s-au \u00eenfiripat universurile. 

De pe geana unei pie\u021be, 
camuflat\u0103 de respira\u021bia puhoiului de lume, 
m\u0103 \u00eentreb dac\u0103, 
vreodat\u0103, 
ajuns \u00een preajma tumultului m\u0103tcii, 
voi z\u0103ri alte na\u0219teri de spa\u021bii.

Am devenit, 
\u00een acest plan real, 
mai greu de \u00eentreb\u0103ri dec\u00e2t oricine...


Monologul lui Diogene<\/em><\/strong>

A trecut Cronos s\u0103-mi ia din zile 
\u0219i i-am spus c\u0103 nu-mi mai pas\u0103. De azi, 
sufletul meu este indiferent la g\u0103l\u0103gia din Olimp. 


-Nu te mai intereseaz\u0103 filosofia, Diogene?
-E op\u021biunea mea permanent\u0103, 
dar m-am s\u0103turat s\u0103 deservesc pe al\u021bii, 
captiv \u00een portul speran\u021bei de a-mi tr\u0103i via\u021ba, 
dup\u0103 placul inimii. 

Aidoma razelor soarelui din odaie,
unde plutesc particule de materie fin\u0103, 
privirea mea e spre marii filosofi,
ajun\u0219i, demult, pe t\u0103r\u00e2mul lui Hades.

Umbra lor exuberant\u0103 
se ciocne\u0219te de pergament,
rostogolindu-se \u00een spa\u021biul dintre arte \u0219i realitate. 
Este un spectacol perfect, 
care face to\u021bi anii, Cronos!



<\/pre>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Preg\u0103tirea pentru c\u00e2mp…Aranj\u00e2ndu-\u0219i p\u0103l\u0103ria pe cap, \u021b\u0103ranul se duce spre cal: \u00eei pune hamul, s\u0103 ias\u0103 la c\u00e2mp, pentru sem\u0103nat.Parfumul boabelor de porumb iese din s\u0103cui, precum cobra, din co\u0219ul dresorului.Femeia nu-\u0219i g\u0103se\u0219te opincile.-Uit\u0103-le aici, sub pom, \u00eei strig\u0103 b\u0103rbatul cu of de sup\u0103rare, dar \u0219i de \u0219ag\u0103, totodat\u0103.-Cum ajung s\u0103 m\u0103 \u00eencal\u021b? \u00eentreab\u0103 ea, … Continu\u0103 lectura poeme<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-12039","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.revistaderecenzii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12039","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.revistaderecenzii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.revistaderecenzii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.revistaderecenzii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.revistaderecenzii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12039"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/blog.revistaderecenzii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12039\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12047,"href":"https:\/\/blog.revistaderecenzii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12039\/revisions\/12047"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.revistaderecenzii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12039"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.revistaderecenzii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12039"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.revistaderecenzii.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12039"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}