Georgien 2008

Georgien 2008
Visualizzazione post con etichetta m.s.. Mostra tutti i post
Visualizzazione post con etichetta m.s.. Mostra tutti i post

reperto, due su Nuovo Contrappunto




ph salsel, What it is








https://chiaraadezati.files.wordpress.com/2018/10/1999-2-nuo-ctrappto.pdf


dal 1992 contiene:

Annuncio di rugiada recente, sonetto di Chiara Adezati
Impatto , poesia di Chiara Adezati

Il pdf del numero della rivista, cliccando qui sopra, con un ringraziamento a Guido Zavanone!










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marinaio sul sagrato, ex voto









La bella baldoria non mi riuscì -
ora come allora - non ho il fisico.
Ho perso di vista l'Aquila e Vega,
ci vedo ma ho perso la vista d'aquila.


A vista navigo, l'occhio alla meta...
necesse navigare senza vita.
Non stride la ruota della fortuna?
Il fato dona... e solo Dio perdona.




ph: salsel,  S.Martino di Struppa - Ge

su piccoli pretesti


- Diciamo. Ti posso chiedere una cosa? Ci sono stati eventi della tua vita che ti hanno indirizzato a grandi cambiamenti? 

- Le tragedie.

- E le passioni più grandi?

- Alle passioni ti attacchi con i denti.

- Vuoi ascoltarle? intendo l'enumerazione. Farò una pausa e fumo una sigaretta sul terrazzo. 

Il suicidio di mio fratello, quando avevamo vent'anni e un'infanzia in un lager di una nonfamiglia numerosa. Una depressione in concomitanza con la separazione dei genitori e la fine di una serie di anni con un ragazzo che non mi avrebbe in quel momento portato a vivere fuoricasa. Un lavoro fisso di pura frustrazione per portare la faccia di uno stato in cui non credevo, fra colleghi missionari ipocriti opportunisti minorati presuntuosi e deficienti e fare i passacarte nella burocrazia quando già insegnare mi pareva riduttivo a causa della burocrazia e l'autoritarismo. Un matrimonio chiesto durante una prima discreta quasiconvivenza quando volevo solo una figlia. La scoperta definitiva dei tradimenti mentre lungi dal dichiararsi per l'amore libero si proclamava santo e monogamo (non passava più di tre settimane per volta a casa e non si occupava della figlia che arrivò: non con tempo e non con soldi). Anni per convincerlo che non potevo continuare con lui, anni di psicoterapia con un ottimo psichiatra che ebbi la fortuna di pagare. Delusione dopo la prima pubblicazione di un libro. Zero vita sociale. Due tentativi a vuoto di altri amori. Solo questo, in breve. Poi molte soddisfazioni a poco a poco. I cambiamenti che danno i frutti. La mia vita. Lo scorso anno il suicidio di un'amica. Intanto ancora non è finita, alla morte di mio padre e come ci aveva preannunciato anche da piccoli molto solennemente ( per me siete come cinque negretti - testuali parole avendoci formalmente radunato per il suo compito di metterci a parte della sua fuoriuscita dalla famiglia) - ci diseredò privandoci persino della legittima. Cito questo solo per il danno morale. E ora l'età avanza, non rimpiango e non mi compiango, ho il gusto della mia solitudine e sto bene con mestessa. Per sommi capi.


Chiara Adezati, Dialogue R / E tradotto in inglese da due amici



Dialogue R (-a(c)tional-me) / E (-motive-me)
About living in fluency







E: I want him. (... badly I want you, so bad ... Bob Dylan) I tell him what I'm really thinking, I feel very strongly that it works. I do not want to hold my tongue. I want “do what you feel, don't be stopped by fears” to become the primary goal in my life. I would be the abandoning one. So they call them. Those who know how to abandon themselves to someone. Those who seem scarcely independent but maybe they are more independent than the others. Cats?
R: But he does not care... Don't bother him anymore… at least for months.
E: It's not true. He loves us. With all his soul. Whenever I hear him, I feel it so. You can't deny it. The words we say reject our real feelings, very much! For confirmation, of course, because of the fear.
We tremble, continually scared. But it is foolish! As someone who hasn't had a mom. Have you not yet understood? It seems the kabuki theater of shadows.
Sometimes you are right, a little. We must give time to others as to ourselves. Sometimes it does not work that way. Do, spontaneously, what comes, what is natural.
R: Writing I'm already fine. And it is wise not to give up anything.
He has to live his life, if he feels that way. Let's let him live it, he would live it anyway. Then you will see, in the meantime, I love the Holy Mystery. Of those who have so much energy. Or do we spend it elsewhere? And where? In being ourselves. With all these little pieces? To hold together like a puzzle that we not even know completely. Hmmm, it's fun. Be protean.
E: I am that I am. And I'm also proud of that. I have nothing to reproach me, some improvements to be made ... not much. Unless when I feel like I’m dead.
R: We will solve this problem: goals are now practiced on a large scale and mechanisms are perfectly known.
E: Skilled manager! Wow!
R: There has never been a dialogue, really. Otherwise, you'd have understood before. With whom you're dealing.
E: I knew I had a force in the battlefield. Unrivaled. I had been told about that.
R: I did not count on you, if I have to be honest. That you were healthy, despite having lived in corrupt environments! Who would have thought that?
E: The storms, even the storms: sand, electricity, moods!
R: I'll finish the verse; even the storms leave something intact under the surface. Let's proceed then. What do you think of for a huge primary goal for our life, at the place of the small insignificant events for which we have struggled so far? Instead of the vain attempt to save the intervals you put together ten minutes of rest, for example.
E: It changes our life. But do not make yourself beautiful with statements that are only good economic rules. The measurement of time by watches is pure fiction. Time is not measured in hours but in seasons of nature and of the living. And are we not “living” as well?
R: To say it better, we are living when ... when we do not run as madmen behind the watches, when we follow our interior times. Life changes, then, changes, if it changes definitely. In this sense, it is worth going against the traditions. Even if almost no one understands it, at first, afterward, instead, something remains, something of what you sow grows, then they see it.
E: Help me to dream, you won't do like those who tell me to forget it because there is nothing worth …
R: That's a guarantee. I am within you, on your side. Only in another perspective. I grant that in the trouble of the sea you are not overwhelmed. Dreaming ... as far as dreaming is concerned, it is your own business.
E: Would it be enough to know where I am and what I want? I know who I am, forever. A pioneer of new ways of living. Without arrogance. I am not easily satisfied. A seeker of gold and bones. One that pursues Utopia, the place of nowhere. The one who lives for poetry and not for something else. Not for ethics but for poetics. Badly treated, however, I am poor and homeless, groping in the dark. The roof of a new culture, to seek. A roof... transparent to the sky, thin, fragile and indispensable, essential. Not more.
R: It's so much more than what we have.
E: You can bet on that! Otherwise what kind of work would it be?
R: It’s difficult, very difficult.
E: I feel born for this. Not a mission, no way. But, since our early age, we have been attracted only by the most challenging enterprises. We like risking as much as we can, otherwise we do not feel useful. Fate.
R: Now it's my turn to say that you must not make me beautiful with a simple rehash of other people's ideas, just now chewed and digested!
E: Yes, yes, from Plato to Plotinus, through Plautus, towards Pluto. I admit it. But it is more and more difficult to follow a thread, also in red in a tightly woven dense and compact web ... and then, told between us, it's always better Good stolen than Evil invented, isn't it?
R: Right. Your instrument is refined. Tuned. You know how to distinguish immediately a tone from all the others.
E: I am tuned! Well, yes. I sing. I'm dazed indeed. Singing for music itself.
R: I hardly see you ... at least two centuries back in time, in a nineteenth-century attic, Bohemian, writing on the bed as you are now.
E: And I hear the music. On the rooftops it pours. Lightning, thunder and the light of noon. How beautiful! The world is not ruined. Not at all when you look at its natural side.
R: For this we must live in the country: as they said, in contact with Nature.
E: Who said that? Philosophers or scouts?
R: Both. You silly one!
E: A moment of silence and recollection, then. Please, gentlemen! I do nothing but to quote what has already been said, and better. I do not want to show off. My task, a modest one, is to re-say, to translate into the language of my time those echoes that come to me from ancient times. From dawn to decadence.
R: I do not blame you, but I remind you that you keep citing, even yourself.
E: Inside me there can be only what is just in me.
R: Do you get irritated?
E: I'm not really that touchy. If anything: susceptible, very nervous, always vigilant. But you can also tell me I'm a whore; in any case, I don't believe it. Fly high. I'm not offended.
R: Let's go back to the origin of the speech! I find these exploratory cycles fascinating. Each time the diameter is different, but some points are in common. I often return to mathematical visions. Close to physics, astronomy and the exact sciences. You, bordering with me, are in the philosophical side and occupy the arts. Did you notice?
R: Well, well. Very well. Go ahead!
R: It's not ironic what you say. I am in perpetual waiting. For your permission, your passport, your nulla osta. For your incitement, finally. It depends on you.
E: And I depend on your flattery!
R: Let's give each other a little good time, now.
E: Gladly, my old smiling gourmet...
R: And a good eater.
E: Why, we would spend pleasant hours together, if only you too would take it easy. You always keep your control. You are a tax! Give up: you know what that means?
R: If we lose control, we will slow down, we will make time bigger indefinitely; it will not necessarily be very visible from the outside, but it will be a big investment. If we decide that this is the goal, we will be successful. There is nothing to gain, we just have to throw off ballast.
F-eed, D-rink, D-efecate, S-leep, X-press, D-stroy, N-joy... What do you think Rabelais wanted with Gargantua and Pantagruel and a couple on a trip like us? I-nstructive J-ollify, pulls out the wildcard from ... C-ock,  L-ick it, E-at it, F-eed yourself, see the thematic alphabet O-bnubilate, G-raze, Suck-ceed, Re-store, F-ool yourself, F-uck, R-oar, V-agina of Zebedee! The alphabet does not say Abstain, AssHead, Run, Dominate, Elevate, Fry ... The beauty of words is that you can make them tell what you want. You know. You know what you want. Eating, drinking, the various physiological needs, imaginative, secular and protestant. A great, great man ... Francois! Doctor and monk...
E: I did not expect this from you, all this stuff. You're dry, as usual, as an Englishwoman. And I am as wet as liquor cake. I would suck eighteen of them, always the same stuff: I do not need variety. Also the large amount gives taste. Or do you mean a single sample is equivalent to eating? I admit that it is good to stay in shape. But overflowing is not so foolish, at least in a metaphysical sense. Pull the edges sur ton cap, as the French say, your goal, furl and spread sails. Sur ton cap, it sounds good, it is music! In the language in which you learn, the good mother tongue, who licks everywhere. Hmmm!
R: “Te piace o' presepe”?
E: Yes, Philip, very much! It's so destructive doing without it. Why do these bigots inflict much on us? They haunt and annoy. I like what everyone likes. In nature and paying it with my own body. Love is repaid with love...
R: Attention! Just a moment! I think, irony of fate - not mine, then - well, until recently you were an elitist, lonely person on the road of the Alexandrians, weren’t you? But now you like to be the thing that appeals to everyone. I don't want to break your balls, but you are an evil being.
E: Exactly, and you know I like ambiguity.
R: I am for logic, exact logic.
E: Fuck you, you want us to split apart. It was from this point that we were divided, shit!
R: You like it, you like it.
E: Vox populi, vox dei. If all, many, a big crowd, people keep telling you ... that it must not be done, what do you do?
R: It must not be done. The night has to pass. Calm down. I understand that sometimes it is so, sometimes not. To quote another proverb: Life is good because it varies. Am I perhaps a fixed character of the Comedy of Art? Or don’t I help you instead with the things to do, a practical, shady dealer: not important, the things to do that you touch, put your hand there, take you, and transport you?
E: I'm always in the air.
R: Like the magic carpet. Where do you think I am? With YOUUU! Have to say it in Arabic? Arabian Nights!
E: The night has to pass …
R: Sing. Like a lullaby. You will fall asleep.
E: You know I cannot stop? It’s a vortex, a maelstrom. Liquid. Water and air cycles.
R: The passion is over. We didn't want it anymore. Fire and earth burning, volcanoes. Solid.
E: You know you're right? You have reasons to sell, my rational friend! Wow, I am dissipating that collection. I'm spreading. I am liquid!
R: You’re kidding me!
E: No, not at all. I cannot live without you. “An vedi come balla Nando... Are you not you sick of that?
R: I do not doubt. It is indeed almost certain. I say “almost” because in fact my motto is "I doubt therefore I am"... as you will remember. I will indeed remember you... I will remember you often. I will remember you, intelligent, dear girl.
E: I want affection, pure affection. Pampering, and I lose my mind with pleasure. Sweet.
R: Hey, you need a man, I tell you... Everything is clear now. Take him to bed, hold him tight.
E: Leave me alone.
R: So we have concluded. To leave one another.


The curtain falls.


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Original version (italian text) you could always get here:
https://lottadiclassico.files.wordpress.com/2016/04/dialogo-r-e.pdf
and always: thanks for reading!


ore estemporanee attuali





Assiderata ruotai intorno al freddo,
assorbita tradussi il poeta.
Dissi un timido ciao al professore
che mi tagga. Neri, secchi, e spogli
sotto la pioggia riccioli di rami dei faggi.






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Il pensiero necessita di pause,

l'eccitazione supera la calma,

la musica comprende il fralenote.


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delle nuvole sono certi cieli
perdutoatlantide la geografia
si mimetizza cela se ne sveli
dei santi degli eroi l'agiografia













auguri Genovavoci

 lettura aperta all'eventuale pubblico

Laura Accerboni Chiara Adezati Giangiacomo Amoretti Marco Berisso  Gabriella Cirone Lucetta Frisa Patrizia Corrias  Marco Ercolani  Marcello Frixione  Bruno Galluccio Francesca Genti Paolo Gentiluomo Ginni Gibboni Angelo Guarnieri Rossella Maiore Tamponi Ely Martini Alberto Nocerino Cetta Petrollo Pagliarani  Gianni Priano Maria Pia Quintavalla Paola Sansone  Piergiorgio Solvi Mariella Tramontano Luca Valerio Daniele Ventre











con i testi:
https://chiaraadezati.files.wordpress.com/2015/01/genovavoci-chad.pdf

minuto 7.30



quattroquarti





zitta, tu non favelli, anima stanca;
e sai tacere anche quando hai da dire,
silenzio universale per parlare
vuoi ti sia fatto intorno, ma silenzio

per primobene offri a chi ti ascolta;
solo per condiscendenza apri bocca,
commiseri chi abbisogna parole
e altrimenti non sa vivere di te.

invece sei tu a dettare le azioni
i fatti, disposizione delle cose!
ti chiedi come possa non bastarci
il fiume dei mutamenti presenti

mentre ci travolge? lo rifiutiamo;
quando ci rivolgiamo ad osservarlo
ci sfugge disattenti la granparte:
il contesto, presenza che ci manca.



se non è ancora il tempo dei limoni


tu aspetta il tempo in cui saranno buoni
(Luigi Tenco)




frequenta a più non posso la pergola
per gola. le piace l'uva fragola.

vite americana, chicco piccolo
veloce sguscia in bocca dalla buccia.

matura o nondum non importa,
la volpe si fa furba non è morta.