Le poète n’écrit rien
Poète dans l’œil d’une super-tempêteDans l’obscurité totale, lisant à la lumière des bougiesÉcrivant près du bord du toitAvec une lampe de mineur sur le frontSur le côté d’un bateau, avec
Author: Valery Oisteanu
2 poèmes de Valery Oisteanu
Sunset Blues Un soupçon de jaune, un soupçon de cramoisiLe vert s’estompe rapidement, juste des écorces d’arbresIl pleut des feuilles en lignes obliquesLe dernier coucher de soleil gémissant orangeRaser les
Sulle Strada per Siracusa
(On the Road to Siracusa) Amo la Sicilia, odio il turismo di massaLasciando Palermo, senza fiatoVia Lincoln Road, piena di spazzatura e ragazze trashL’autostrada si snoda verso l’estI motorini, le
Twee gedichten van Valery Oisteanu
De onsterflijke anarchiste Voor Judith Malina Jouw dromen zijn nu onze dromenZonder jou zien we die nietHet is lente en we zijn blindWat is het )even nog zonder jouHet is
Jack Micheline, 1929-1998
Talking to JM at Space Light Sound Gallery East 7th StreetIs like tasting raw street nerve forceIt’s like a labyrinth of urban folklore and poetical bum lingoIt’s like talking to
Richard Oelze (1900-1980) German Surrealist painter
Richard Oelze was born in Magdeburg, Germany, on June 29, 1900. He trained as a lithographer (1914-1918) and learned nude drawing in evening classes where he develops his artistic palette,
Continue readingRichard Oelze (1900-1980) German Surrealist painter
Ted Joans—The Priest of Jazz
Originally published on Empty Mirror I met Ted Joans in New York 1973, 30 years ago, through Charles Henri Ford as a fellow surrealist and collaborated with him at his