{"id":8725,"date":"2020-03-15T20:59:30","date_gmt":"2020-03-15T17:59:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=8725"},"modified":"2020-03-15T21:09:27","modified_gmt":"2020-03-15T18:09:27","slug":"scriitori-stefan-costache-andrei-albastra-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/?p=8725","title":{"rendered":"Scriitori de azi – \u0218tefan Costache Andrei – Ora albastr\u0103 (1)"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"

ireal,
\na\u0219a cum iubesc o mansard\u0103
\ncu vedere spre suflet.
\nce po\u021bi vedea:
\nfrica de a nu te mai vedea
\nniciodat\u0103!<\/p>\n

curiozitate<\/strong><\/p>\n

dac\u0103 scrii poezii, ai cerut voie
\nvoievodului mu\u0219telor s\u0103 bat\u0103 din aripi la citirea prozodic\u0103 dumnezeiasc\u0103 a uniunii?
\nte-ai g\u00e2ndit o clip\u0103 c\u0103 \u00ee\u021bi este fric\u0103
\ns\u0103 nu o trimi\u021bi pe mail, poezie ciudat\u0103
\ncu binecuv\u00e2ntarea medicului de familie?<\/p>\n

autodenun\u021b<\/strong><\/p>\n

frica de cuvinte ne \u00eempinge
\n\u00een \u00eencr\u00e2ncenarea de a da sentin\u021be
\nmu\u0219telor care au nevoie de evaluare
\npsihiatric\u0103.<\/p>\n

bonsaiul<\/strong><\/p>\n

a trimis ni\u0219te r\u0103d\u0103cini ad\u00e2nci
\n\u00eentre inima ta \u0219i inima mea
\n\u0219i a propus s\u0103 nu mai cred
\nc\u0103 din dou\u0103 inimi se poate na\u0219te
\no inim\u0103 \u00eensetat\u0103 de cuvinte
\ncare nu au existat niciodat\u0103!<\/p>\n

ce mai poate lua prizonier lacrima<\/strong><\/p>\n

soarele cade ca un ghem
\nrostogolit de pisici dup\u0103 dealuri.
\nbroa\u0219tele verzi m\u0103 speriau
\npe prund, bocitoarele verii.
\np\u0103ianjenul cu cruce \u00eemi prinde
\nvisele \u00een m\u0103tase de pre\u021b.<\/p>\n

zvon<\/strong><\/p>\n

mi-a spus cineva c\u0103 te joci
\nmereu cu noaptea.
\no str\u00e2ngi ghem la piept
\n\u0219i a\u0219tep\u021bi diminea\u021ba.
\no de\u0219iri pe podea.
\no rostogole\u0219ti cu team\u0103
\ns\u0103 nu cumva s\u0103 o zg\u00e2rie…
\ntu e\u0219ti, pisic\u0103 t\u0103rcat\u0103!
\ntigru bl\u00e2nd, felin\u0103 cuminte,
\nnedumerirea zilei care tocmai
\na r\u0103mas cu amintirea ta
\n\u00een bra\u021be, cu un ghem de-ntuneric!<\/p>\n

lacrim\u0103, tu, binecuv\u00e2ntare<\/strong><\/p>\n

lacrim\u0103, astru ne\u00eembl\u00e2nzit
\nal fascina\u021biei mele pentru toamn\u0103!
\ne\u0219ti ploaie, e\u0219ti demon? e\u0219ti \u00eentrebare?
\nmi-e fric\u0103, at\u00e2t de fric\u0103 s\u0103 nu adorm
\n\u00een \u00eemp\u0103r\u0103\u021bia ta cea limpede ca o lun\u0103
\nf\u0103r\u0103 lac, ca o clipire stearp\u0103 de ochi!
\nla col\u021b de g\u00e2nduri, te a\u0219teapt\u0103 o pisic\u0103.
\nte va da de-a dura \u00een jurul inimii mele
\ncare se va \u00eentinde lene\u0219\u0103, \u00een jurul t\u0103u,
\nde\u0219i miroase a vatr\u0103, a frunze, a lini\u0219te,
\niar pe domeniul t\u0103u pre\u021bios va fi secet\u0103 mare.
\nlacrim\u0103, \u0219tiu c\u0103 doar tu iube\u0219ti poezia asta,
\ndoar tu mai po\u021bi s\u0103 \u00eemi saturi ochii
\nde noapte, de \u00eentrebare, de noapte!<\/p>\n

aici<\/strong><\/p>\n

un strop de vis \u021bi-a ast\u00e2mp\u0103rat
\nsetea de noapte.
\nprevizibil, curgea lene\u0219 sub aripa
\nunei frunze de joi.
\naici se unesc, \u00eentr-o cavalcad\u0103
\nmizantrop\u0103, cu aere de strugure copt,
\nmila de noapte, noaptea de mil\u0103,
\nziua de noapte, noaptea de zi,
\nduce-se plecate, hai-hui, \u00een poveste.
\naici se face at\u00e2t de t\u00e2rziu,
\nc\u0103 uit unde am f\u0103cut pace cu mine.
\ns\u0103 fi fost at\u00e2t de t\u00e2rziu pentru lun\u0103,
\naici, cu dragoste, ce fel de lun\u0103,
\ndoar aici, cu mil\u0103 de noapte,
\ncu mil\u0103 de dragoste, cu mil\u0103 de…
\ncavalcad\u0103 de dragoste, aici, aici…?<\/p>\n

durere<\/strong><\/p>\n

dac\u0103 ai fi mai neast\u00e2mp\u0103rat\u0103
\ndec\u00e2t ai reu\u0219it s\u0103 fii anul acesta,
\nmi-a\u0219 pune ochelarii pe frunte,
\n\u0219i m-a\u0219 face toamn\u0103 sau
\norice ar spune vara despre tine,
\nb\u00e2rf\u0103, paiul din ochiul t\u0103u galben!<\/p>\n

ciocolata!<\/strong><\/p>\n

viclean\u0103 pl\u0103cere a copil\u0103riei,
\ncre\u0219te cu r\u0103utate \u00een catagrafiile medicilor.
\n\u021bi-ai da sufletul pentru gustul
\ncare te-a f\u0103cut mare, at\u00e2t de mare,
\n\u00eenc\u00e2t \u00ee\u021bi \u00eenf\u0103\u0219ori elegant, la g\u00e2tul t\u0103u umil
\nca un fular mincinos,
\ntoate fricile de la Facerea lumii p\u00e2n\u0103 azi!<\/p>\n

mirare\t<\/strong><\/p>\n

m-am mirat tare mult, dup\u0103 ce
\ndiminea\u021ba te-a sc\u0103pat \u00een bra\u021bele mele
\nca pe o pisic\u0103-iubire infinit\u0103 de tors,
\namintire de ceai \u0219i mic dejun frugal,
\noameni pe care \u00eei \u00eembr\u0103\u021bi\u0219ai cu dor
\npisic\u0103-rea uitat\u0103 \u00een g\u00e2ndul meu,
\nat\u00e2t de singur\u0103, at\u00e2t de tigrat\u0103,
\nat\u00e2t de cuminte, ca nu mai vreau
\ns\u0103 \u00ee\u021bi dau drumul din vise!<\/p>\n

dac\u0103<\/strong><\/p>\n

dac\u0103 mor, dou\u0103 litere mai \u00eencolo
\ndec\u00e2t impune topica frazei,
\n\u00eenseamn\u0103 c\u0103 am pierdut \u0219irul ideilor?
\nn\u0103stru\u0219nic\u0103 joac\u0103 de-a poezia!
\ncineva mi-a spus c\u0103 aici g\u0103se\u0219ti zmei,
\nluntrea lui Charon cu vopseaua cojit\u0103,
\nbinecuv\u00e2ntarea casei \u0219i litere afurisite.
\ntotu\u0219i, dac\u0103 mor, dou\u0103 potcoave de cal,
\nmai departe dec\u00e2t ai crede c\u0103 plec,
\ndac\u0103 Zeus mi-ar cere certificat de iubire,
\ncrezi c\u0103 a\u0219 mai avea curaj s\u0103…
\ns\u0103… dispar mascat de jocul de Scrabble?<\/p>\n

poezia<\/strong>\t<\/p>\n

simt ca \u00eemi d\u0103 t\u00e2rcoale poezia.
\naprig\u0103 chemare.
\nnu mai am destule cuvinte
\ns\u0103 o \u00eembrac \u00een coper\u021bi \u0219i s\u0103 \u00eei dau nume.
\ntigroaic\u0103 m\u0103 sufoc\u0103 iubirea ei \u0219i m\u0103 tem,
\nde dou\u0103zeci \u0219i doi de ani \u0219i mai bine,
\ns\u0103 nu \u00eemi vad\u0103 s\u00e2ngele puls\u00e2nd la g\u00e2t.
\nar \u021b\u00e2\u0219ni toate poemele r\u0103mase
\npentru v\u00e2nz\u0103torii de cai verzi pe pere\u021bi.
\nsigur vor aprecia, din iner\u021bie, orice semn
\nscrijelit pe sufletul ei cu miros de mucava.
\npoezia \u00eemi d\u0103 \u0219i acum t\u00e2rcoale ca o moarte
\ndin aceea de salon, diafan\u0103,
\ncu chip de pisic\u0103 persan\u0103.<\/p>\n

pedeaps\u0103<\/strong><\/p>\n

inima mea \u00ee\u0219i alege s\u00e2ngele cel mai bun,
\nde la na\u0219tere p\u00e2n\u0103 la prima ninsoare.
\nadaug\u0103, cu fiecare zbatere, s\u00e2nge nebun de ro\u0219u.
\nincognito, d\u0103 la o parte v\u0103lul \u0219i zide\u0219te pedeaps\u0103
\nalbul ro\u0219ului, ro\u0219ul albului, \u00eentr-un joc infinit
\nde-a via\u021ba \u0219i moartea, de-a ziua \u0219i noaptea.
\ninima asta \u0219i-a \u00eenfipt trilul \u00een lini\u0219tea nop\u021bii,
\nzidind, crenelat, pedeaps\u0103 imprecis\u0103:
\nro\u0219ul albului, albul ro\u0219ului, abia z\u0103rit la t\u00e2mple,
\ns\u0103rutul t\u0103u, s\u00e2ngele t\u0103u-fantom\u0103 ro\u0219ie
\nieder\u0103 ne\u00eembl\u00e2nzit\u0103, c\u0103r\u0103mizie-n frunze,
\nlumin\u0103 pres\u0103rat\u0103 ca sarea \u00een bucate.<\/p>\n

rug\u0103minte <\/strong><\/p>\n

noapte, ia-\u021bi \u00eentunericul, pleac\u0103 de aici
\nc\u00e2t mai departe, pleac\u0103 \u0219i las\u0103-m\u0103,
\ns\u0103 m\u0103 bucur c\u00e2t mai haotic de galbenul
\ncare \u00eemi tulbur\u0103 lini\u0219tea, lini\u0219tea toamnei
\n\u0219i gutuia uitat\u0103 pe pervaz!
\nleag\u0103-l n\u0103fram\u0103 la g\u00e2t \u0219i nu mai veni niciodat\u0103!<\/p>\n

poem de \u00eenceput de octombrie<\/strong><\/p>\n

asear\u0103 am auzit o b\u0103taie prelung\u0103
\n\u00een u\u0219a de la intrare. am crezut c\u0103
\nera \u00eentunericul care insista
\ncu b\u0103t\u0103i \u00een u\u0219\u0103 \u00een ritmul inimii.
\nam deschis! nu era el.
\nera sora lui mai mare:
\ncea mai invidioas\u0103 fiin\u021b\u0103
\nde pe P\u0103m\u00e2nt: singur\u0103tatea!
\nmi-a fluturat la ochi
\nv\u0103lul ei rece ca o liter\u0103 moart\u0103.
\ni-am z\u00e2mbit, am poftit-o
\n\u00een c\u0103r\u021bile ei scorojite de vreme,
\n\u0219i am \u00een\u021beles c\u0103 ea dr\u0103g\u0103stos las\u0103,
\n\u00eencet, \u00eencet, c\u00e2te un loc gol la mas\u0103.
\na plecat cu bucuria revenirii \u00een suflet.
\nde atunci, inima mea tresare
\nc\u00e2nd cucuvaia de peste drum
\nnum\u0103r\u0103 b\u0103t\u0103ile ei gr\u0103bite
\n\u0219i face \u0219mechere\u0219te cu ochiul
\nspectatorilor care se bucur\u0103 infinit!<\/p>\n

unde fugim de acas\u0103<\/strong><\/p>\n

c\u00e2nd copilul t\u0103u prinde r\u0103d\u0103cini
\npentru a deveni un copac mai viguros
\ndec\u00e2t secularii salc\u00e2mi din care \u00ee\u0219i trage seva,
\nte g\u00e2nde\u0219ti c\u0103 va veni o toamn\u0103
\nfoarte lung\u0103, at\u00e2t de lung\u0103 \u00eenc\u00e2t
\ndoar Bunul Dumnezeu va \u0219ti c\u00e2nd se va sf\u00e2r\u0219i,
\ndac\u0103 se va sf\u00e2r\u0219i…<\/p>\n

Ceart\u0103<\/strong><\/p>\n

pisic\u0103 rea, \u0219i \u00eendr\u0103gostit\u0103 ve\u0219nic,
\nm-am ghemuit l\u00e2ng\u0103 tine,
\no ve\u0219nicie.
\n\u021bi-am tors toate toamnele gri
\n\u0219i \u021bi-am tulburat visele cu ocru.
\nAi desenat peste toate visele mele,
\nlitere \u0219i castane pe care vream
\nsa le p\u0103strez m\u0103rturie
\n\u00een nu \u0219tiu ce veac separat de aceast\u0103 bucurie marin lucios.
\ntorceai \u0219i camera mirosea a gutuie!
\nnu ne era team\u0103 nici de ploaie, nici de brum\u0103,
\nnu ne era frig, chiar dac\u0103 cerul mirosea a ghea\u021b\u0103,
\nnu ne g\u00e2ndeam c\u0103 toamna ne va aminti
\nc\u00e2t de mult ne-am iubit cu binecuv\u00e2ntarea ei,
\ncu grij\u0103 ei despre oameni \u0219i p\u0103s\u0103ri!<\/p>\n

rug\u0103minte de septembrie<\/strong><\/p>\n

toamn\u0103, arde-mi sufletul pres\u0103rat
\npeste gr\u0103mada de frunze putrede de ploaie!
\narde-l pe rug ca pe o pas\u0103re moart\u0103
\nc\u0103zut\u0103 \u00eentr-un blestem!
\nlas\u0103 lumina s\u0103 \u00ee\u021bi curg\u0103 printre
\ndegete, murdar\u0103 de ro\u0219u \u0219i ocru!
\ndoar \u021bip\u0103tul de cocori se mai \u00eenal\u021b\u0103 ca un zmeu f\u0103r\u0103 patrie.
\nstrig\u0103-m\u0103 dup\u0103 numele spaimei,
\nstrig\u0103-m\u0103 dup\u0103 mirosul de fructe!
\np\u0103m\u00e2ntul miroase a c\u00e2ntec; ce c\u00e2ntec
\nmai poate mi\u0219ca inimile scrise abulic
\n\u00een fiin\u021ba ta, \u00een dragostea ta, \u00een dragostea ta…<\/p>\n

medita\u021bie<\/strong><\/p>\n

mai albastre ca marea,
\nsunt g\u00e2ndurile mele f\u0103r\u0103 rim\u0103.
\ncuib\u0103re\u0219te-te l\u00e2ng\u0103 mine
\n\u0219i acoper\u0103-m\u0103, deap\u0103n\u0103-m\u0103 sau
\nf\u0103-m\u0103 mic de tot, at\u00e2t de mic
\ns\u0103 pot intra, tiptil, \u00een visele tale,
\ncu traista nop\u021bii la piept
\ns\u0103 m\u0103 bucur de lini\u0219te,
\ns\u0103 m\u0103 ag\u0103\u021b de \u00eentuneric,
\ns\u0103 caut \u00een patria iubirii noastre
\nun ogor cu flori de piatr\u0103,
\npiatr\u0103 pre\u021bioas\u0103 bl\u00e2nde\u021bii tale.
\n\u0219uier\u0103 prin spaime stafiile frunzelor
\ncare ne m\u00e2ng\u00e2iau cerul.
\ncine \u00eemi face inima
\ns\u0103 sparg\u0103 baierele luminii?
\ntu, ploaia sau piticii aceia tri\u0219ti?<\/p>\n

ora albastr\u0103<\/strong><\/p>\n

ora albastr\u0103 \u00eembrac\u0103 amurgul
\n\u00eentr-o rochie colorat\u0103 ca minutele ei!
\nturnul cenu\u0219iu \u00een care urcam pentru
\na s\u0103ri pe cadranul roman,
\nantic\u0103 juc\u0103rie a unei iubiri prizoniere
\nunui exerci\u021biu de cap\u0103 \u0219i spad\u0103.
\npisicile exerseaz\u0103 pe un pervaz,
\nsperan\u021ba zilei de m\u00e2ine.
\nam \u00eennebunit de dorul t\u0103u, poezie!
\n\u0219i, a\u0219tept s\u0103 te str\u00e2ng la piept,
\ndup\u0103 ce ei vor spune
\nc\u0103 nu mai am voie s\u0103 te \u00eent\u00e2lnesc!<\/p>\n

requiem<\/strong><\/p>\n

noaptea, e\u0219arf\u0103 neagr\u0103
\nla g\u00e2tul zilei care a trecut.
\ndoliu nebun, greierii c\u00e2nt\u0103
\na poezie.
\npe dealuri miroase a dor.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

te iubesc ireal, a\u0219a cum iubesc o mansard\u0103 cu vedere spre suflet. ce po\u021bi vedea: frica de a nu te<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":13,"featured_media":8585,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"colormag_page_container_layout":"default_layout","colormag_page_sidebar_layout":"default_layout","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"video_url":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7,321],"tags":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8725"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/13"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=8725"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8725\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8730,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8725\/revisions\/8730"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/8585"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=8725"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=8725"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ziarulderimnic.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=8725"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}