Friday, December 31, 2010

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Poetry



Poetry
; you may live
Vêtue
grand soleil             d’intuitions fulgurantes
                                    de prairies ondoyantes
; under the mouth of the wind
you lived invisible
, among the fireflies
roadsides
your face reflected
; the wonders of the track Milky
you did not have enough sky
among the people lost
seeking a savior
between pages of the Book
; you lived
like a pearl
; the seabed
; with gestures elliptic
Your réglais in silence
choreography sumptuous
; octopus from fish hippocampus
Starfish and algae fluorescent
you were the wings of the mountains
; the source of cloud
while you took root
; to come off soon
as flakes Snow
the eyelashes of a child
; you did bloom
; charred seeds
the warriors strewed
with fire and death
you lived then
fountain or fire
; as a gift from gods

Andre Chenet (Unpublished)

Dear Readers and Friends of Danger Poetry

We will continue to live poetry with passion so that it does not Dead Letter or sanitized in literature anthologies heavy as tombs. It clarifies and extends our beautiful brief passage on this earth if it is abused and the ferment of our fraternal aspirations not imagine a better future but to create it with courage and generosity,

I wish you a very happy new revolution in poetry,

Andre Chenet



Letter to Olivier Viscont :



Viscont Dear Olivier,

Thank you for your good review of Danger poetry, especially in this time of return to formal poetry, narrative (after all, very literary) you are able to discern an acute one of the reasons to me brought to the creation of this online journal: in a time of great global upheaval (both locational, environmental and political) poetry, through those who claim it does not remain benign.

We are at the critical point where human beings, people will be completely deprived of their collective responsibilities. Insidious propaganda undermines what Paul Eluard called "immediate life" where is our freedom to be. One to think, wonder, love, to fraternize.
there is now a kind of suffering which will inform subtracted from a privileged minority, protected by tax havens and their purchasing power.

I'm not saying that the poet must necessarily deliver a political message through watchwords provocative but in these times of increasing human misery and loss of freedoms, that he engages in the fields of collective consciousness is his responsibility to confuse the legitimate refusal of the die-hungry, the marginalized, the repressed victims of an economic system without qualms that form, if the Looked at closely, the vast majority of world population.

The songs of the poets, whatever the time, have never been neutral. They are recovered progressively by an elite carefully handpicked not alter the case.

My traveling companions (André Laude, Tristan Cabral, Emma K, Jean-Marc Lafreniere, Erwin Christian Andersen, Dom Corrias, Ghyslaine Leloup, Cristina Castello ... and others with whom I communicate fairly regularly and that I could not even publish ...), were not content to write poetry gesture for beauty alone. They feed on all legitimate rebellion in the near future, should lead to highly creative acts of unprecedented situations.
They are processed, so to speak, through the very real and dangerous situations in which their consciences bear lit up voices, dreams and aspirations that belonged to them more: their speech is releasing restrictions and personal injury led to the increasingly counting of themselves, of questionings painful and tragic.

As
love breaks all our certitudes and shakes our foundations intimate poetry proceeds by lightning tearing the fabric protectors of our comfort and our habits. Much it stirs our rejection of a dehumanized world, as it leads us to the heights of vision.
Ultimately, I hope at least be worthy of the poets I publish a constantly renewed fervor.

You had an expression could not be more specific about Mr. Darwish and A. Laude "the carvers of the cry" which, undoubtedly, gives me the full measure of your sincerity.
Through you, I salute all the "frogs " as well as our distant ancestors "frogs". And especially Serge Mathurin, who I was talking on the phone last night. Sincerely,

Andre Chenet


Read the article by Olivier Viscont to: @ rt- chignaned

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