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miércoles, 23 de diciembre de 2009

Sin titulo ni tiempo

 Mis ojos y los tuyos en el cielo
negro
las estrellas resbalando por tu cabello
negro
y mi brío se volvió como el fondo
negro.

Seco el rastro de la lágrima
ida la emoción del llanto
el rumor del futuro se aproxima
un viejo cuento
un frio que apaga la llama.

Mis pasos y los tuyos en el mundo
seco
el jarrón de tu libre infinito
seco
y mi reparo para contigo
seco.

(inédito Marzo 2006)

jueves, 10 de diciembre de 2009

Harvest Estudio 1

sábado, 5 de diciembre de 2009

Delirio y contraste en la realidad


I


Las mañanas un sueño
las noches una voz en mi hombro
mi hogar su cuerpo
el lugar un oasis en mi tedio.



II
Hierve el hormiguero
en sus asfálticas colinas
fantasmales eventos se forman
en desenfoque
sobre las vías del silencio
a un exilio viajo sabiéndolo inexistente.



Reposan las abejas
en el exacto horario
caducas rutinas forman contraste
en claroscuro
tras el reconcilio con mi tortura
a una noche ingreso reconociéndola libre.


III


En la negrura la igualdad se extiende
las voces nos diferencian
bajo la rutina las sensaciones germinan
las luces nos subordinan.



IV

El comienzo y el fin
un paréntesis
entre ellos
expirando albas de ensueño
azules veranos de gentil braza
e inexistentes promesas sometidas por el futuro.



El nacimiento y la muerte
el intervalo
una corta línea de emocionales picos
caídas exquisitas
y lapsos clandestinos evocando el gusto por el ahora.






viernes, 4 de diciembre de 2009

Cortometraje: "LIMA" - AMERICA







Cortometraje de Fran Terrones Julca, "Lima", el guion es una adaptación del poema "America" del Estadounidence Allen Ginsberg, (03 de junio de 1926 - 05 de abril de 1997), fue en principio expuesta en una performance realizada en la ciudad de Lima, un monologo a cargo de Jonathan O. Pittman, luego fue llevada al vídeo con la particularidad de haber sido filmada sin cortes, donde era importante la interacción entre el especatador y el personaje interpretado también por Jonathan O. Pittman quien colabora en su realización.
El personaje le increpa a la ciudad (una forma de dirigirse a su entorno imperante) sus múltiples defectos que la limitan como sociedad mientras llega de su laburo por la tarde (oficinista) y se cambia para ir a su otro oficio hasta la noche (mendigo); es una suerte de protesta social y a la vez una demostración del pensamiento que a pesar del tiempo puede aplicarse a nuestra realidad.

"Es imposible hacer una buena película sin que una cámara sea como un ojo en el corazón de un poeta" Orson Wells /

Direccion y Realizacion: Fran Terrones Julca & Jonathan O. Pittman
Actuacion: Jonathan O. Pittman
Adaptacion para Guion: Christian Zavala y Fran Terrones Julca
Año: 2009

Original poem
"America"

Por: Allen Ginsberg

America I've given you all and now I'm nothing.
America two dollars and twenty-seven cents January 17, 1956.
I can't stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb
I don't feel good don't bother me.
I won't write my poem till I'm in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I'm sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don't think he'll come back it's sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke?
I'm trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I'm doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven't read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for
murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid and I'm not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there's going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I'm perfectly right.
I won't say the Lord's Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven't told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over
from Russia.
I'm addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I'm obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It's always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie
producers are serious. Everybody's serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.
Asia is rising against me.
I haven't got a chinaman's chance.
I'd better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of marijuana millions of genitals
an unpublishable private literature that goes 1400 miles and hour and
twentyfivethousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underpriviliged who live in
my flowerpots under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I'm a Catholic.
America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his
automobiles more so they're all different sexes
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they
sold us garbanzos a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the
workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party
was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother
Bloor made me cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have
been a spy.
America you don're really want to go to war.
America it's them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia's power mad. She wants to take
our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Reader's Digest. her wants our
auto plants in Siberia. Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh. Him makes Indians learn read. Him need big black niggers.
Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set.
America is this correct?
I'd better get right down to the job.
It's true I don't want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts
factories, I'm nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I'm putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.