{"id":2933,"date":"2019-07-06T11:58:54","date_gmt":"2019-07-06T11:58:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/?p=2933"},"modified":"2019-07-06T11:58:54","modified_gmt":"2019-07-06T11:58:54","slug":"luminita-amarie-poezie","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/luminita-amarie-poezie\/","title":{"rendered":"Lumini\u021ba Amarie\/Poezie"},"content":{"rendered":"

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din volumul
\n~Ascunde toate amintirile \u0219i distruge tot ce-am atins~
\nCasa de Editur\u0103 Max Blecher, 2019<\/p>\n

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#
\n\u0219tiu tot ce va urma
\nplictiseala
\nneputin\u021ba de a suferi
\nhainele \u00eemp\u0103turite perfect
\nniciun g\u00e2nd sinuciga\u0219
\nmirosul de om singur
\nde la prima cafea
\np\u00e2n\u0103 noaptea t\u00e2rziu
\namor\u021bit \u00een \u00eentuneric
\n\u00eentr-o cas\u0103 \u00een care fiecare are ceva
\nde iubit
\nceva de distrus<\/p>\n

#
\neu \u00een fiecare zi mai b\u0103tr\u00e2n\u0103
\ntu mai fericit
\ncafeaua \u0219i \u021bigara
\ngustul umed al pielii \u00een care te-ai \u00eenvelit noaptea
\ndiminea\u021ba carnea p\u0103streaz\u0103 frigul
\nun rest de \u00eentuneric
\nprin geam v\u0103d crucile
\ncimitirul de-aici n-are nimic din cel de-acas\u0103<\/p>\n

#
\ndespre trup
\nironia \u0219i m\u00e2ntuirea lui
\nfiecare mi\u0219care ca o pedeaps\u0103
\ndoar s\u0103-ndr\u0103zne\u0219ti s\u0103-ntorci acul
\n& e\u0219ti distrus
\ntotul e deja prev\u0103zut
\nt\u0103ietura s\u0103 fie ad\u00e2nc\u0103
\nm\u0103runtaiele curate
\ns\u0103 nu te-n\u0219ele memoria
\ns\u0103 nu respiri mai mult dec\u00e2t al\u021bii
\n(mocirle colc\u0103ind de viermi
\ns\u00e2nge cu cenu\u0219\u0103)<\/p>\n

#
\n\u00eemi beau cafeaua \u00een gr\u0103din\u0103
\ntu te lup\u021bi cu demonii \u00een buc\u0103t\u0103rie
\nam construit
\ndoar pentru a privi cum se d\u0103r\u00e2m\u0103
\netica nu m-a convins niciodat\u0103
\nnici meticulozitatea
\nunei vie\u021bi mai bune<\/p>\n

#
\nca \u0219i cum ar fi uman s\u0103 fii distrus\u0103 de dogme & sfin\u021bi
\nvino s\u0103 vezi
\nau inventat teorii despre fericire
\n& groaz\u0103
\nnu-\u021bi trebuie nimic altceva
\npo\u021bi fi
\nimbatabil\u0103
\natr\u0103g\u0103toare
\naproape
\ninaccesibil\u0103<\/p>\n

#
\ne greu s\u0103 ascul\u021bi \u00een \u00eentuneric
\ncum bate inima
\na\u0219tep\u021bi z\u0103pada dar nu va veni
\ndoar o alt\u0103 diminea\u021b\u0103
\ncu care s\u0103 lup\u021bi
\ngesturile \u00ee\u021bi vor \u00eengreuna respira\u021bia
\nai s\u0103-\u021bi t\u00e2r\u0103\u0219ti obosit trupul
\nca un animal
\nner\u0103bd\u0103tor s\u0103 moar\u0103
\nnimic \u00een\u0103l\u021b\u0103tor
\ndoar tu
\n\u00eenconjurat\u0103 de dragoste
\no pas\u0103re \u021bip\u00e2nd
\npe locul unui cuib
\ndistrus<\/p>\n

#
\nsuntem \u00een pustietatea comun\u0103
\ncafeaua e rece a\u0219a cum e normal
\n\u00eentr-o vreme a frigului
\n(amintiri despre genera\u021bia noastr\u0103
\ncea care nici m\u0103car n-a existat
\namintiri despre b\u0103t\u0103lii imaginare \u0219i sacrificii)
\nsteaguri flutur\u00e2nd deasupra farfuriilor murdare
\nlini\u0219titor
\nc\u00e2t se poate de \u00eenfrico\u0219\u0103tor<\/p>\n

#
\nsub\u021biez negrul cu puterea
\nunei femei
\ndistruse de lumin\u0103
\np\u0103rul meu a fost trist
\ndoar privindu-\u021bi m\u00e2inile
\npierdute \u00een el<\/p>\n

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***<\/p>\n

Criza cuplului \u0219i a v\u00eerstei declan\u0219ez\u0103, \u00een poezia Lumini\u021bei Amarie<\/strong>, o autoscopie tenace \u2013 amestec de luciditate, fric\u0103 (p\u00een\u0103 la oroarea din \u201einima \u00eentunericului\u201d), tandre\u021be, cruzime\u00a0 \u2013 care confrunt\u0103 bergmanienele \u201escene ale vie\u021bii conjugale\u201d cu ceea ce filozoful ar numi \u201esens ontologic al negativit\u0103\u021bii\u201d \u0219i abisal\u0103 Nichtigkeit.<\/p>\n

Oboseala, golirea interioar\u0103, epuizarea, dezvr\u0103jirea lumii s\u00eent mai \u00eent\u00eei tr\u0103ite nemijlocit – s\u00eent suferite ca traume corporale \u0219i psihologice (dar \u00eentr-o stilistic\u0103 a brevilocven\u021bei, a discursului suspendat, a sincopei, a parantezei, a blancului, a gesticula\u021biei minime, deci cu at\u00eet mai elocvent) – , pentru a se transforma, pe parcurs, \u00een provocare ascetic\u0103 \u0219i ritual de trecere. Unul reu\u0219it? \u00cen contextul at\u00eetor vocifer\u0103ri mai degrab\u0103 ideologice dec\u00eet lirice, Ascunde amintirile \u0219i distruge tot ce-am atins <\/strong>recupereaz\u0103 conving\u0103tor cel pu\u021bin dimensiunea existen\u021bial\u0103 a poeziei, dincolo de biografismul recurent. Ba chiar ne duce spre o simbolistic\u0103 mai abstrus\u0103, cu poten\u021bial de metanoia: \u201etrec din m\u00e2na st\u00e2ng\u0103 \u00een m\u00e2na dreapt\u0103\/ o piatr\u0103 ce nu mai are nicio asperitate\u201d. (O. Nimigean<\/strong>)<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Lumini\u021ba Amarie<\/strong> scrie o poezie rezidual\u0103, n\u0103scut\u0103 \u00een siajul iubirii menite s\u0103 pun\u0103 ordine \u00een entropia corpului, g\u00e2ndirii \u0219i a lumii. Uzura, rutina \u0219i neputin\u021ba individului, multiplicate cu doi, sunt subiectele eului poetic mobilizat simultan, contradictoriu, de melancolie pentru lucrurile ce se pierd \u0219i de vitalitatea, ,,grea\u021ba unui nou \u00eenceput\u201d. Cu un limbaj esen\u021bializat, f\u0103r\u0103 efuziuni \u0219i artificii retorice, adecvat unui timp al urgen\u021bei, poemele se nasc din fluxul cotidian incert \u0219i impur, din contamin\u0103ri \u0219i tr\u0103d\u0103ri, rezerve \u0219i distan\u021be, tensiuni \u0219i transgresiuni \u00een interiorul universului domestic, un dormitor diminea\u021ba, o buc\u0103t\u0103rie sau o gr\u0103din\u0103: ,,schimb apa la flori \/ \u00eenlocuiesc cear\u0219afurile \/ lumina va intra \/ va \u0219terge tot ce-a r\u0103mas din noapte\u201d; ,,\u00eemi beau cafeaua \u00een gr\u0103din\u0103 \/ tu te lup\u021bi cu demonii \u00een buc\u0103t\u0103rie \/ am construit \/ doar pentru a privi cum se d\u0103r\u00e2m\u0103\u201d.\u00a0 \u00cen acela\u0219i timp, incizia, sau mai precis excizia, opereaz\u0103 la fel de precis \u00een ad\u00e2ncul traumei \u0219i al memoriei, pe o linie f\u0103r\u0103 contur, unde corpul singular se reg\u0103se\u0219te \u00een cel colectiv, iar personalul devine politic: ,,eu vin din genera\u021bia f\u0103r\u0103 \u00eenving\u0103tori\u00a0 mi s-au luat juc\u0103riile \/\u00a0 \u00een locul lor, o ghen\u0103 plin\u0103 cu rahat\u00a0\u00a0 s\u0103 m\u0103 \u021bii de m\u00e2n\u0103\u00a0 s\u0103 duci naibii gunoiul \/ s\u0103 schimbi apa la flori\u00a0 eu vin din genera\u021bia mor\u021bii dar nu spun \/\u00a0 nu-mi ar\u0103t sc\u0103derile vulnerabilitatea \u021bip\u0103tul \/ umblu goal\u0103 printre ziduri\u201d. ,,Nimic nu a r\u0103mas netr\u0103it\u201d \u00een ,,ascunde amintirile \u0219i distruge tot ce am atins\u201d, cum spune poeta \u00eens\u0103\u0219i cu vocea unei genera\u021bii captive \u00een m\u00e2inile moarte ale viitorului, dar tocmai acest imperativ poate salva ceva, mai poate crea o iubire nou\u0103.\u00a0 (Simona Nastac<\/strong>)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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din volumul
\n~Ascunde toate amintirile \u0219i distruge tot ce-am atins~
\nCasa de Editur\u0103 Max Blecher, 2019<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

#
\n\u0219tiu tot ce va urma
\nplictiseala
\nneputin\u021ba de a suferi
\nhainele \u00eemp\u0103turite perfe…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1,30,28,47],"tags":[],"coauthors":[75],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4rsGx-Lj","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2933"}],"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=2933"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2933\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2940,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2933\/revisions\/2940"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2933"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2933"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2933"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.nymagazin.com\/en_US\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=2933"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}