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te provoaca sa gandesti
Se rasnea amarul langa tampla, harsht-harsht, a mai trecut o clipa cu
mersu-i de cocota ... simti timpul atunci cand esti captiv in cetatea socialului, iubesti timpul atunci cand nu exista decat ca o simpla unduire a unui prezent izbavitor. Si ce te izbaveste azi decat cafeaua fumata-ndelung in sorbita tigare si-n lene, si tic-tac-ul de pe perete, de la mana, de pe strazi, pe care l-ai invins - ce minune ! - in spuma lovita de unic a propriei renasteri. Cum vine asta ? ! Pai, vine simplu si deodata, cu aura de niciodata, cu verde-n pas si dulce-n glas, vine leoaica, te prada, te vrea, iti sfasie cuvantul si mastile toate, copila, tu, uita-te cum esti, cadavru mustuit de vise, nu-s ambulante pe lume cate salvari ti-a aplicat barbatul-cu-nori-in-loc-de-privire, te scoala, Lazare, si mergi, si mergi spre tine, tot mai spre tine ... Asa spunea izvorul langa care nimic deosebit nu s-a intamplat, decat vreo doua-trei dezgoliri de mal si-o rabufnire surda-n matca, receptate rece catre jurnalistic de catre femeia-luna in a carei simtire imi savarsesc, din cand in cand, protezele fiintei. Alpha si Beta se regasesc in Omega, dar noi n-avem sfarsit, caci n-am inceput decat sa facem sfori din lacrimi pe care sa ne cataram pana la Dumnezeu, sa-l luam la intrebari si sa ne intoarcem cu obrajii rosii de sange, cu firul de iarba - constrans sa fie ca oricare. Ma rumegau toate vacile fricilor acolo, pe pasunea blestemata, pe care m-ai conceput.Urlau comenzile, licareau ledurile, se resetau programele si se stergeau kiturile, la naiba, femeie, iubirea nu-i sistem, campia nu-i doar desktop, iar eu, eu nu-ti sunt virus, esti ieftina cand fugi de tine, e fals, e gri, e mort acest tablou, sa cred ca esti tu? da-ti rama mai incolo, fa-ma pastel, sau penel, sau menestrel, sau carnetel, dar du-ti, femeie, trecutul departe, lasa-ma sa te intru pana la os, cum altfel sa iti stiu taul, cum altfel sa te merg?? Nu am raspuns. Am asteptat sa vina ploaia.
comentarii (1):
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in confuzia asta el-ea, textul de sus imi aminteste vag de-o melodie a lui Nick Cave, ce-obisnuiam s-o ascult, far' de-a ma gandi prea mult la sensuri:
They call me The Wild Rose
But my name is Elisa Day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name is Elisa Day
From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
That grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped at the tears that ran down my face
On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I'd seen
I said, "Do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?"
On the second day he came with a single red rose
Said: "Will you give me your loss and your sorrow?"
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
He said, "if I show you the roses will you follow?"
On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, "All beauty must die"
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
se-nfige-atunci in mine, intrebarea, ca un spin: cate ambulate trebuie sa-i aplici unui mort, sa le putem numi salvari?
alice iacob