e-revista EgoPHobia
EgoNews-Living the Moment (Diplomatic Art, Galeriile Bastionului Theresa, 12.11-12.12.2015) by Adrian Ioniță translated by Andrei-Radu Bîrsan [MTTLC] click pentru versiunea română Julien GARDAIR is the prototype of an artist globetrotter who does not waste time in one place. It seems that he has the metabolism of a man in contact with the vibration of the […]
Delirium tremens All that is useless All that is banned All that gets thrown away All found in the Delirium minds of the deranged. All Raw Unprocessed
by Ana Bazac I One of the most frequent and, at the same time, dangerous epistemological faults of the contemporary thinkers – and indeed, only these ones are blind, since the former have only discovered the significances of time – is the homogenization of situations, images and concepts related to man. Philosophy works, […]
by Mihai-Andrei Aldea translation by: Sorina Gheorghe The Typology of Initiatory Journey (in the Romanian Folktales)………………………………………………. 1 The Typology of Initiatory Journey (in the Romanian Folktales)………………………………………………. 2 The Initiatory Journey – Introduction…………………………………………………………………………………… 2 The Initiatory Journey in the Romanian Fantasy Folktales……………………………………………….. 8 II.a. The Extraordinary and the Estrangement……………………………………………………………………. 8 II.b. A Brief Attempt at […]
Song as Axiomatic Password Driving in rain, radio on, Moby’s Mistake, the slow start redolent of regret then the beat insistent as grief swoops, leaves me depleted. I could have died a dozen deaths but lived. Wrenched apart by a song. A song? Edge of night I heard the iron cries of trams […]
Dusk Front I saw lines of shadow cross my backyard and seep through the dry soil. With erasure inbound, no more will we lament the loss of a friend. The day ends with the drought of wordy creases, so much that I cannot feel myself think about what had happened.
Olympiastadion My throat was sore in Berlin Als das Kind Kind war so I missed the Reichstag fire but on television saw the Wall come down
by Oliviu Crâznic Algid the air, on crystal clear horizons, Beyond the eyes of angels I have drowned; Yet, funny, it’s still snowing in my ocean – Watering flakes and one black tear adown.
Love as it always was He hears my words in a dream. Distantly. Free of rigid lines, unraveled from ill-defined knots.
Hotel Dum What’s sacred when the Thing is all the universe? –Allen Ginsberg (“The Reply”) I rode a tram on my own from the Hotel Dum into Old Town Walked from Karol Bridge to hear Dvořák played in a church where