Saludos Hivers, aquí les dejo pues mi artículo reflexivo de hoy, como siempre lúdico & libidinoso 😈 por el tema tratado, verás que no necesitas comentarlo 🤔
Cuando uno se ha pasado la vida lidiando con las Palabras, esforzándose por aprender a darles un orden de la mejor manera posible, procurando que ellas transmitan emotividad o acaso tan solo un vislumbre de la cegadora realidad en torno nuestro, resulta inevitable comenzar a pensar de otro modo tu relación con ellas.
Uno sabe el poder de su magia, uno entiende al poema como un hechizo de la fantasía que solo logra ser posible y efectivo, después de contender con ellas largas horas.
Todo el que escribe Poesía sabe de qué hablo, entiende y ha tenido que intentar doblegarlas y sacarlas del caprichoso llamado que una palabra reclama para otras. En su imán las palabras dentro del poema, atraen el repudiable "lugar común" pero tú te precias de alquimista o al menos, pretendes ser el Poeta, y por tanto buscarás a toda costa que por el umbral del poema, entren y lleguen otras. Tú quieres arrancarles sus ardides y secretos, y sanarles de ese capricho con que establecen relaciones convencionales para darles un sentido "estético" para que sean arte, y no refritos.
Sobre todo un escritor comienza a pensar en esto, cuando "el carro alado del tiempo" se te encima y avizora agotamiento. Uno ha visto demasiado y quisiera expresarlo todo, dejarle algo a todo lo entrevisto y vislumbrado.
Yo de pronto he sentido en cambio, la necesidad de burlar a las palabras, ellas quieren sobresalir y armarse, y yo deseo darles el silencio, dejar para otros la posibilidad de esbozar su experiencia.
Ésta y no otra es la razón por la que me dedico a la enseñanza de la PRECEPTIVA, ciencia del oficio de escribir que muchos desestiman, y prefieren desentenderse alzando banderas que los apuntalen como "los inspirados".
Trasnochada tendencia, lamentablemente aplaudida y cada vez más preponderante, hoy más que antes muchos se consideran sin sonrojo ESCRITORES.
En defensa del Silencio, hoy les digo, no sean ilusos y lean, pongan sus glúteos sobre la 💺 más para leer que para escribir, y disfruta sobre todo ese momento que te regala la vida de dejar la página sin magulladuras.
Nunca olvidaré que en cierta ocasión me puse más productivo que un curiel, y le llevaba a Paco Mir una producción de 3 poemas por día de la semana, pasado un mes, en el encuentro del domingo aseveró, sin detenerse como antes en los poemas:
-Dale una oportunidad al Silencio, mijo, y mata al Incauto. Que no todo merece transmutarse en poemas. Vive.
Si en el futuro, como lector acusioso y no Incauto yo me tropezara palabras como éstas, esperaría con esperanza que me dieran más de lo que en un principio ellas mismas me confiaron: el sabor de su silencio irrevocable.
Greetings hivers, here I leave you because my reflective article today, as always playful & libidinous 😈 for the topic discussed, you will see that you do not need to comment 🤔
When one has spent life dealing with the words, striving to learn to give them an order in the best possible way, trying that they transmit emotion or perhaps only a glimpse of the blindness reality around us, it is inevitable to start thinking aboutAnother way your relationship with them.
One knows the power of his magic, one understands the poem as a fantasy spell that only manages to be possible and effective, after contending with them long hours.
Everyone who writes poetry knows what I speak, understands and had to try to bend them and get them out of the capricious called that a word claims for others.In his magnet the words within the poem, they attract the repudiable "common place" but you precious alchemist or at least, you intend to be the poet, and therefore you will look at at all costs that by the poem threshold, others enter and come others.You want to tear their burning and secrets, and heal them from that whim with which they establish conventional relationships to give them an "aesthetic" sense to be art, and not refused.
Above all, a writer begins to think about this, when "the winged car of time" is over and avizo exhaustion.One has seen too much and would like to express everything, leave something interviewed and glimpsed.
I have suddenly felt instead, the need to make fun of words, they want to excel and arm themselves, and I want to give them silence, to leave for others the possibility of sketching their experience.
This and not another is the reason why I dedicate myself to the teaching of the mandatory, science of the trade of writing that many dismiss, and prefer to disregard uprising flags that underpin them as "inspired."
Transnocada trend, unfortunately applauded and increasingly preponderant, today more than before many are considered without blushing writers.
In defense of silence, today I tell you, do not be illusory and read, put their buttocks on the 💺 more to read than to write, and enjoy above all that moment that gives you the life of leaving the page without bruises.
I will never forget that on one occasion I put myself more productive than a curiel, and took Paco Mir a production of 3 poems per day of the week, after a month, in Sunday's meeting he said, without stopping as before in the poems:
-Cive a chance to silence, millet, and kill the unsuspecting.That not everything deserves to be transmuted into poems.Lives.
If in the future, as a mecutory and not unsuspecting reader I stumbled words like these, I would expect with hope that they gave me more than they initially entrusted me: the taste of their irrevocable silence.
Este post es libre de IA.
📷 de mi propiedad.
This post is free of AI.
📷 is mine.
!LUV
(2/10) sent you LUV. | tools | discord | community | HiveWiki | <>< daily@restaurador, @ydaiznfts
Congratulations @restaurador! You have completed the following achievement on the Hive blockchain And have been rewarded with New badge(s)
Your next target is to reach 200 replies.
You can view your badges on your board and compare yourself to others in the Ranking
If you no longer want to receive notifications, reply to this comment with the word
STOP