{"id":1188,"date":"2015-06-30T19:21:30","date_gmt":"2015-06-30T19:21:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/?p=1188"},"modified":"2016-03-15T14:10:33","modified_gmt":"2016-03-15T14:10:33","slug":"nig-prin-poezia-inimii-mele-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/nig-prin-poezia-inimii-mele-2\/","title":{"rendered":"NIG – Prin poezia inimii mele, Florin R\u0103dulescu"},"content":{"rendered":"

FLORIN R\u0102DULESCU<\/strong>
\n(Bucure\u0219ti)<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Recviem(11)<\/strong><\/p>\n

M\u0103 doare carnea ta. Prin mine trece,
\nE lup fl\u0103m\u00e2nd. Mi-e osul mort \u0219i rece,
\nNu pl\u00e2nge. Sunt o osie str\u0103in\u0103
\n\u0218i pielea grea se zbate sub rugin\u0103.<\/p>\n

Cu z\u00e2mbetul pictat de curcubeie,
\nIubeam s-ating icoana ta, femeie
\n\u0218i, s\u0103rut\u00e2ndu-\u021bi glezna ca o miere,
\n\u00ce\u021bi dezbr\u0103cam cuv\u00e2ntul de t\u0103cere.<\/p>\n

Inund\u0103 ploaia orele-ntr-o doar\u0103,
\nPrea calm\u0103, prea cernit\u0103, prea amar\u0103,
\nCur\u00e2nd, sim\u021bi-vei boarea de t\u0103m\u00e2ie,
\n\u0218i crucea mea cresc\u00e2ndu-\u021bi sub c\u0103lc\u00e2ie…
\nM-am giugiulit, temeinic, c-o b\u0103sist\u0103 (sonet prezidential)<\/strong><\/p>\n

M-am giugiulit , temeinic, c-o b\u0103sist\u0103
\nCe sem\u0103na la bip cu Woodrea Leana
\n\u0218i etala, c\u00e2nd unduia mo\u0219moana,
\nDiscursuri de sorginte populist\u0103.<\/p>\n

\u00cen c\u0103m\u0103ru\u021ba ei trona icoana
\nEroului chelbos cu min\u0103 trist\u0103,
\nAm \u00eentrebat-o, franc :-e\u0219ti securist\u0103
\nC\u0103 prea te rupi \u00een pat ca amazoana.<\/p>\n

M-a s\u0103getat cu z\u00e2mbetu-i absent:
\n-Se vede \u00een priviri. E\u0219ti uselist !
\nApoi, precum un sexy terorist,
\nMi-a tras, \u00een stilul smuls, un acatist;<\/p>\n

De-o candida la post de prezident
\nEu o votez. Etern \u0219i permanent…
\nCondamnat<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00cen lipsa ta
\nsecundele trec prin mine
\nca ni\u0219te gloan\u021be
\nFreya
\nnu e durere
\ne mai mult dec\u00e2t \u00ee\u021bi poate povesti
\ncarnea sf\u00e2\u0219iat\u0103
\nde nostalgie
\n\u0219i totu\u0219i
\ne\u0219ti aici
\numbra ta mi s-a lipit de oase
\nla ce bun
\ns\u0103 m\u0103 \u00eempotrivesc?
\n\u00eenghit durerea, m\u0103 g\u00e2ndesc la tine (sonet)<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00eenghit durerea, m\u0103 g\u00e2ndesc la tine (sonet)<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00eenghit durerea, m\u0103 g\u00e2ndesc la tine,
\nla coapsa ta-n amurguri anxioas\u0103,
\nce-\u0219i odihnea lehamitea pufoas\u0103
\nsub umbra unei pofte levantine<\/p>\n

\u0219i mi-a l\u0103sat iubirea-n prag, bor\u021boas\u0103,
\nsedus\u0103-n p\u00e2rg de \u0219oapte curvi\u0219tine,
\ndespoi concupiscen\u021be de aldine
\n\u0219i \u00eenc\u0103 te visez, intravenoas\u0103,<\/p>\n

nu m\u0103 ur\u00ee, \u021bi-am bulversat sticle\u021bii
\ndin minte, cu o simpl\u0103 ambuscad\u0103,
\nte mu\u0219c\u0103 bleu de glezn\u0103 o \u0219arad\u0103,
\nc\u00e2nd e\u0219ti cu amintirea-mi goal\u0103-n cad\u0103,<\/p>\n

\u0219i c\u00e2nd te str\u00e2ng cu dragoste pere\u021bii
\no s\u0103 observi c\u0103 azi sunt fiul ce\u021bii…<\/p>\n

Serial Killer<\/strong><\/p>\n

s\u0103 nu-mi vorbe\u0219ti despre singur\u0103tate
\nnu face asta
\nam sugrumat umbra ei
\ncu m\u00e2inile goale
\nsau
\nm\u0103car am \u00eencercat
\nnu m\u0103 po\u021bi condamna
\n\u021bin \u00een bra\u021be
\namintirea ta
\nucis\u0103
\n\u00een fiecare sear\u0103
\nsomewhere in time
\nundeva
\npe o plaj\u0103
\n\u00eentr-un vis cu gust de femeie
\namintirea ta alearg\u0103 descul\u021b\u0103 pe nisip
\n\u00eemi z\u00e2mbe\u0219te
\nca \u0219i cum
\ninima mi-ar fi \u00eentreag\u0103
\nca \u0219i cum
\nn-a\u0219 fi murit atunci<\/p>\n

Oblivion<\/strong><\/p>\n

uitarea \u00eemi cade \u00een bra\u021be ca o prostituat\u0103
\nse \u00eencol\u0103ce\u0219te \u00een jurul trecerii mele
\nzadarnic
\nFreya
\nlipsa ochilor t\u0103i \u00eemi r\u0103ne\u0219te carnea
\ntotul e at\u00e2t de simplu
\nca o prim\u0103 noapte de dragoste
\nca o ultim\u0103 lacrim\u0103 pe obraz
\nte p\u0103strez captiv\u0103
\nundeva aproape de oasele astea obosite
\n\u00eenc\u0103 \u00eemi explodezi \u00een vene
\ncu non\u0219alan\u021ba unei maladii fatale
\nnum\u0103r scr\u00e2\u0219netul anotimpurilor
\n\u00een odaia desc\u0103rnat\u0103 de amintiri
\nparfumul t\u0103u mi se ag\u0103\u021b\u0103 de umeri
\nfluture r\u0103t\u0103cit \u00een c\u0103utarea unui neon
\nMr.Jack Daniel e singurul meu prieten
\nuitarea nu mi-a fost niciodat\u0103 amant\u0103
\nFreya
\naproape c\u0103 a\u0219 putea s\u0103-\u021bi ating aerul
\nmersul
\nzbaterea
\nte p\u0103strez captiv\u0103
\nundeva aproape de oasele astea obosite
\nundeva aproape de ce a mai r\u0103mas din
\nsuflet<\/p>\n

\u0218i dac\u0103 <\/strong>
\n(parodie dupa poezia cu acelasi titlu de M.Eminescu)<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u0218i dac\u0103 plozii-mi sparg vreun geam
\nSau scrijelesc to\u021bi plopii,
\nAt\u00e2t de iute fug c\u0103 n-am
\nDe ei cum s\u0103 m-apropii.<\/p>\n

\u0218i dac\u0103 pescuiesc pe lac
\n\u0218i-mi fur\u0103 altul r\u00e2ndul,
\nDe n-am s\u0103 prind nimic, m\u0103-mpac
\nFoarte u\u0219or cu g\u00e2ndul.<\/p>\n

\u0218i dac\u0103 banii mei se duc
\nP\u00e2n\u0103 s\u0103 treac\u0103 luna,
\nAtunci, prietenii mi-aduc
\nCovrigi, \u00eentotdeauna…
\nPoezia parodiat\u0103:<\/strong>
\nSi dac\u0103…<\/strong>
\nde Mihai Eminescu<\/strong><\/p>\n

Si daca ramuri bat \u00een geam
\nSi se cutremur plopii,
\nE ca \u00een minte s\u0103 te am
\nSi-ncet s\u0103 te apropii.<\/p>\n

Si daca stele bat \u00een lac
\nAdincu-i luminindu-l,
\nE ca durerea mea s-o-mpac
\nInseninindu-mi gindul.<\/p>\n

Si daca norii desi se duc
\nDe iese-n luciu luna,
\nE ca aminte s\u0103-mi aduc
\nDe tine-ntodeauna.<\/p>\n

o selec\u021bie realizat\u0103 de Nu\u021ba Istrate Gangan – Davie – FL-USA<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

FLORIN R\u0102DULESCU (Bucure\u0219ti)     Recviem(11) M\u0103 doare carnea ta. Prin mine trece, E lup fl\u0103m\u00e2nd. Mi-e osul mort \u0219i rece, Nu <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":1189,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[30],"tags":[],"coauthors":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/06\/1123914151.jpeg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4rsGx-ja","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1188"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1188"}],"version-history":[{"count":17,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1188\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1737,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1188\/revisions\/1737"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1189"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1188"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1188"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1188"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=1188"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}