Les yeux noirs
par Alina Zaharia Les cils d’enfant autour des yeux noirs Clignotent dans le rythme des histoires, C’est ainsi que le coeur athlétique Maintient la candeur d’un esprit combatif-esthétique.
Synesthéphile
par Alina Zaharia Les couleurs ont fait leur travail : Ont peint harmonieusement l’éventail, La partie anodine de la toile vécue Balayant le noir des tristesses inconnues.
Cum nu a fost asasinat ion iliescu
de Chris Tanasescu 1. … Da’ cine-i ion iliescu zis şi ilici? Stăteam pe lângă Teatrul mare, pe brânci şi am pufnit în râs, bleah, da, cine-i? păi e animalul cu mineri, e de vină că-l votează de frica foamei taică-meu… iar râsete. Psst! Da, mă, chiar că zăngăne ăştia-s nebuni, au adus arme, ’l […]
Destinul şi opera lui Basarab Nicolescu
[Emanuela Ilie, Basarab Nicolescu. Eseu monografic, Editura Timpul, Iaşi, 2008] de Marius-Cristian Ene Într-un interviu acordat „Jurnalului Naţional“ cu ocazia împlinirii vârstei de 67 de ani, academicianul Basarab Nicolescu declara: „Anul care a trecut mi-a adus o mare satisfacţie: publicarea la Editura Timpul din Iaşi a primei monografii despre mine, scrise cu mare fineţe de […]
Noaptea e caldă, numai ceaţa e rece
[scenariu de scurtmetraj] de Bogdan-Nicolae Ghiurco Personaje: Constantin Dascălu (Ticu): proprietar la bloc, 50-52 de ani; Doamna Dascălu: soţia lui Ticu, casnică, 50-52 de ani; Doamna Bica: pensionară, 70-80 de ani; Procurorul: funcţionar de modă veche, cu sacou şi cravată, întotdeauna aceleaşi, 45 de ani; Poliţişti; Vecini, trecători.
Tender on the Smiles
by Patrick Călinescu When she had tried to smile back at me, her lips creeping on her face skin stopped her short. Unable to sketch the least outlined lip curvature, she just nodded her incapacity into a final shrug.
Tell me how you love, I will tell you how sick you are
by Alexandra Claudia Manta Languidly, I squeeze ink from my wrath. Purple ink covers these soul-peels like little fractal veins circulating my unloaded anger. My moth-mouth stares at daylight wide open, burnt by the unexpected gift of foreseeing. I am legion, but I am squandered. Split I am by your eye blink, and unlocked to […]
‘I like the I in myself’ : Facing the Derridean ‘massacre’
by Alexandra Claudia Manta Lately I’ve been thinking at some linguistic operations such as substitution, permutation, and at underlining and the use of block letters in written communication. I and Myself. I within Myself. I whom I see in that which I see you see. Is reality merely a question of vision and point of […]
Comptine d’un autre automne
by Marius Surleac I run over the seas and dive in the skylines burnt by the fires of hell the night that will come with all its whispers will embrace us
Flashes
by Marius Surleac today dig under me with your bare hands until you’ll pass the ribs you’ll lose half of your soul the blood will spread over the knees and within hair, emotions will be gripped