{"id":2031,"date":"2017-06-13T00:44:34","date_gmt":"2017-06-13T00:44:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/?p=2031"},"modified":"2017-06-13T00:48:18","modified_gmt":"2017-06-13T00:48:18","slug":"cornelius-draganpoezie","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/cornelius-draganpoezie\/","title":{"rendered":"Cornelius Dr\u0103gan\/Poezie"},"content":{"rendered":"

din volumul \u201eMu\u0219c\u0103tura fluturelui japonez\u201d – Editura Junimea<\/p>\n

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\"18058185_1660133767348624_8766820837806908209_n\"<\/p>\n

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Touch me now<\/strong>
\n(In Memoriam Victimelor Atentatelor de la Paris)<\/p>\n

Touch me now\/ ca o iluminare trupul t\u0103u, ca o zeitate\/ te iubesc strigam \u00eempr\u0103\u0219tiindu-mi-se creierii cu gloan\u021be de Kalashnikov\/ te iubesc nespus, l\u00e2ng\u0103 noi ardeau mii de lum\u00e2n\u0103ri- parc\u0103 era Craciunul\/ eu nu \u0219tiam c\u0103 eram mor\u021bi , ne\u00eemp\u0103rt\u0103\u0219i\u021bi\/ \u0219i at\u00e2t de mult ne iubeam, at\u00e2t ne doream \u00eenc\u00e2t turla Parisului p\u0103rea o minciun\u0103, \u00eentr-at\u00e2t \u00eenc\u00e2t nu mai \u00eenchideam ochii\/s\u0103 nu te pierd, \u00eemi ziceam\/ de\u0219i eram am\u00e2ndoi \u00eentin\u0219i pe caldar\u00e2m, \u00eembrati\u0219a\u021bi \u00eentr-o n\u0103cl\u0103ial\u0103 dulceo-sufocant\u0103 de s\u00e2nge macabru\/ touch me now \u00ee\u021bi ziceam parc\u0103 url\u00e2nd, de fric\u0103 s\u0103 nu ni se \u00eenchid\u0103 ochii\/ s\u0103 nu disp\u0103rem\/ pentru c\u0103 eram prea tineri, prea proaspe\u021bi, prea cruzi\/ prea frumo\u0219i,prea \u00eentreg\/ visul iubirii noastre sparg\u00e2ndu-se nefiresc de ciudat \/ cu ro\u0219ul strident la orizontal\u0103.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Sper s\u0103 devin<\/strong>
\nneabsentul absent
\nsunetul casei mele
\npraf \u00een amurg
\nfemei cu pulpe-
\ncele mai multe
\nnu le cunosc<\/p>\n

ora\u0219 natal
\n17.50
\nadie aer cald<\/p>\n

mi\u0219un\u0103 lumea \u00een partea
\nvenit\u0103 de la confec\u021bii
\nbunic\u0103-mea nu mai vine
\na obosit \u00eentr-un
\nt\u00e2rziu octombrie \u0219i
\na r\u0103mas sprijinit\u0103-n
\ncimitirul de la deal
\nde pe Copou.<\/p>\n

Nu sunt trist
\ndin contra
\na\u0219 vrea s\u0103 strig
\ndar sunt absent
\nvirez cu pantoful ros
\nde at\u00e2\u021bia ani<\/em>
\ngre\u0219it la dreapta
\nm\u0103 \u00eempleticesc \u0219i cad
\na\u0219a cum m-am n\u0103scut
\ndescul\u021b <\/em>
\n\u0219i singur<\/em><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Acustic ( peretele interior)<\/strong><\/p>\n

cad tacit
\nlini\u0219tea unei ierni care
\napas\u0103 at\u00e2t de tare
\npe piept
\nrespirare
\n\u0219i oase
\nnoaptea e un ve\u0219m\u00e2nt
\ntimid pentru ceea ce
\nsunt
\n***<\/p>\n

mama<\/strong> \u00eemi cere
\ntelepatic inima
\nnu raspund la telefoane
\nfoarte multe telefoane
\nv\u00e2na t\u00e2mplei
\nse zbate
\ntrec trec\u0103tori timpurii
\nai dimine\u021bii \u00een care Ea<\/em>
\nnu va mai fi
\n***
\ntimpul<\/strong> e num\u0103rat
\ndin doi \u00een doi
\ncu palma pot cuprinde
\ncel mai des cr\u00e2mpeie
\nde suflete moarte
\ndespic mi\u0219carea \u0219i m\u0103 v\u00e2r
\n\u00eencet ca un \u0219arpe de cas\u0103<\/p>\n

***
\nam un bra\u021b<\/strong> cu pumn st\u00e2ns
\ncel\u0103lalt e uitat \u00een gol
\nlibert\u00e9<\/em> e un cuv\u00e2nt greu
\nde care m\u0103 leg
\nresturile
\nsunt aruncate doar
\nla c\u00e2ini
\n***
\ndiscu\u021biile<\/strong> se surp\u0103
\n\u00een dup\u0103-amiezi cu bere
\nnoi suntem mul\u021bi
\ncer\u0219im asiduu
\nantidotul c\u0103derii \u00een depresie
\nde pe varf de hotel
\no pasare valseaz\u0103 zbor
\n\u00een plin\u0103 var\u0103
\n***
\nnu mai sunt copil<\/strong>
\nnu-mi pas\u0103 de dragostea
\npe care n-o am
\nam prins-o \u00een fluturi singuratici
\ncoroni\u021be am\u0103rui am f\u0103cut
\ndin cicoare
\nscrijelesc scaunul gol
\nsunetul scos
\ndevine un sc\u00e2ncet
\npe care \u00eel suprim aproape
\ninstant
\nprin r\u00e2s isteric<\/p>\n

***
\nvini\u0219oare<\/strong> pe m\u00e2ini
\ncredin\u021ba dezr\u0103d\u0103cinat\u0103 c\u0103
\npoate nu vom mai fi
\n\u021bin post
\nat\u00e2t de dur
\ncastic
\nc\u00e2nd spun c\u0103 m\u0103 jertfesc
\npentru tine
\nnu mint
\nochii prin\u0219i \u00een cearc\u0103ne
\n\u00eencerc\u0103 s\u0103 leviteze
\nspre inima ta
\nrece<\/p>\n

***
\nIeri c\u00e2nd m\u0103 gr\u0103beam s\u0103 ajung \u00een sta\u021bie<\/strong>
\nam v\u0103zut-o pe ea
\nc\u0103r\u00e2nd ghiozdanul \u00een col\u021buri
\nEa nu era mai mare dec\u00e2t un pumn de orez
\n\u0219i nu avea coaste- \u00een schimb
\navea aripi
\nc\u00e2nd m\u0103 gr\u0103beam a\u0219a voiajor
\nEa s-a izbit de mine \u0219i mi-a cerut s\u0103 o iert
\nsunt o minor\u0103 \u0219i te supun p\u0103catului
\nsunt dulce coapt\u0103 \u0219i te urmez
\noriunde
\nieri, ea \u00eemi crea puseu de s\u00e2nge
\nlinia copsei ei m\u0103 urm\u0103rea
\nca un c\u00e2ine fl\u0103m\u00e2nd
\nnegru \u00eentrupat<\/p>\n

la doi\u0219pe\u2019 fix mi-a stat inima-
\nea m\u0103 vr\u0103jea
\n\u00een ureche<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

\u00cen definitiv<\/strong>
\nce m\u0103 lipea de ea era
\nacest cre\u0219tet al m\u00e2inilor
\nivite din neant
\npuiul de om
\ntr\u0103gea strident clan\u021ba
\nputreg\u0103it\u0103 a u\u0219ii
\nce d\u0103dea spre
\nlumea f\u0103r\u0103-de-vorbe
\nsunt aici \u00eemi \u0219opteai
\nsunt aici
\neu nu vedeam dec\u00e2t
\ncopilul nostru
\ncresc\u00e2nd
\ndin ce \u00een ce mai mare<\/p>\n

***
\nLudmila<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201c\u015ei f\u0103cusem dragoste f\u0103r\u0103 dragoste.\u201d<\/em>
\n(Gabriel Garcia Marquez \u00een Povestea t\u00e2rfelor mele triste)<\/p>\n

Ludmila<\/em> era o rusoaic\u0103 de la noi din bloc\/ pe care o solicitau de fiecare dat\u0103 colocatarii\/ atunci c\u00e2nd ploaia ne sp\u0103rgea casele\/ curg\u00e2nd monstruos\/ d\u00e2nd buzna \u00een intimitatea \u0219i a\u0219a mic\u0103\/ c\u00e2nd frigul ne cuprindea trupurile muribunde\/ f\u0103c\u00e2ndu-ne s\u0103 zacem aproape nonstop la telenovelele latin-iste\/ \u00a0 Ludmila<\/em> nu era o proast\u0103\/ era o doamn\u0103 chiar \u0219ic\/ avea bro\u0219\u0103 -n pieptul ei mare\/ de t\u00e2rf\u0103 \u0163arist\u0103\/ p\u0103rul-culoarea spicului de gr\u00e2u dat \u00een p\u00e2rg\/ \u00eempletit copil\u0103re\u0219te-n codi\u0163e\/ pulpe groase ca de commandeur\/ ap\u0103rate de o fusti\u0163\u0103 ro\u0219u-moale cam comunist\u0103\/ noi o iubeam r\u00e2nd pe r\u00e2nd\/ ceas dup\u0103 ceas\/ \u00eensu\u0219i timpul turba \u00een a\u0219teptare\/ p\u00e2n\u0103- ntr-o zi \/ c\u00e2nd \u00een u\u0219a sc\u0103rii am g\u0103sit un bilet de bun r\u0103mas\/ Ludmila<\/em> noastr\u0103 plecase \u00een Mama Rusia cu-n june rus mai fierbinte\/ la revedere fat\u0103 bun\u0103\/ la revedere i-am spus cu to\u0163ii \/ flutur\u00e2nd batiste de zor\/ trei zile am r\u00e2s amintindu-ne-o-n pat cu bujori\/ patru am pl\u00e2ns plini de draci \/ la u\u0219a apartamentului ei f\u0103cusem pelerinaj \/eram ro\u0219ii to\u0163i b\u0103rba\u0163ii la ochii \/ nesatisf\u0103cu\u0163i \u00a0p\u0103r\u0103si\u021bi\/ adio draga noastr\u0103 Ludmila<\/em>\/ adio \u0219i bun r\u0103mas\/ acolo unde te-ai dus sper\u0103m s\u0103 fii ca \u0219i aici\/ at\u00e2t de fericit\u0103<\/p>\n

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

din volumul \u201eMu\u0219c\u0103tura fluturelui japonez\u201d – Editura Junimea<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"18058185_166013376734862...\n<\/p\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[30],"tags":[],"coauthors":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4rsGx-wL","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2031"}],"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=2031"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2031\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2037,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2031\/revisions\/2037"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2031"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2031"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2031"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=2031"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}