21 poems of Jesus Santos López, illustrated with four intaglio prints Fermin Santos.
Edition of 200 copies, the author plus 20 tests.
OMEGA Chaos ordered by his own demonic form. Land begin to boil as the water of the seas. The prayers went out late in the morning after the endless night, and the knees of innocent children will be full of light. The scarred earth will the dead, and the red sky the angels, and his men battle will not be judged.
inhale the smoke I inhale the smoke that the wind expands. I admire the carcinogen be live. I tremble from the cold in the cities where they die daily, where they die awaiting the caresses caressing the edge of a maimed body aware of the beating of war. Am I in the hills protected. The sky is bleeding at times and in the shade of the tree snake canned reserve sins. Closure the secrets of power before I point the guns that have killed me so many times.
ALFA'll be the image and likeness of the unknown. You will have praise for my creation because it is lacking. Live under the yoke guilty till your life: you do not know value. Ignorance is your greatest sin. Now you must go to paradise.
FLOOR THE YELLOW GRASS stepped on the yellow grass and the field budded at his feet. Immediately sprang the first flowers, and of these, the original flavor, the christening name purifying our ears, even today, unknown. Reached the shores and seas, before angry, is tamed, there crystalline sand dunes were great cliffs in his day, but the waves made no impression. Men approached the shape of the rising sun, and there, between lush valleys, I teach them the forgotten words.
Foreword José Luis García Martín.
"ENIGMA"
Poetry is always an enigma. In the poem more clearly in the poem with the language of every day, there is a light that comes from another world and dazzle and blind. In the darkest poem in the poem that the reader has to grope through the thicket of language, are signs, signs clarifiers, we do not know answers to questions. The poetry of Jesus Santos Lopez is both realistic and allegorical, irrational and conversational, and everyday magic. The poem "The eye of the needle" speaks "the pain of the streets," marginality without hope, in a terse tone you want to exclude any moral or desire Redemptorist and is close to the aesthetics of Dirty Realism. The final poem, by contrast, adopts reflective tone, transcendent, which is no stranger to the reading of the poetry of San Juan de la Cruz was Jose Angel Valente: "It stretches the body in the shade / of mystical grove, / And the wind toward the blue / drives the sleep / dreams of freedom. " Biographical anecdotes of love and hate, life without incentives, dark evenings lost cities, are transfigured in these verses fasts of empty rhetoric, but swollen with meaning.
"Poetry is a must, but do not know why," wrote Jean Cocteau with his usual wit, only apparently frivolous. We do not know what it is poetry, but we know that could not live without it. The reader who knew the hand of Jesus Santos Lopez, to enter this street angel will not regret, but the ride at times not be too comfortable. "Every angel is terrible," said Rilke. Yes Every angel can become a demon, sometimes without ceasing to be an angel. The poems of Jesus Santos Lopez at times seem to want to pat the reader, but more often they hit you in the face, forced him to awaken, not to be numb with misleading fables. And we remember back to Cocteau, "Poetry is a lie that always tells the truth." And the truth, though not always pleasant, makes us pain free. Without it we are less than we are, we become truly human. Jesus Santos
a poet who not lavish, a poet miser of words, silences generous offers in Angel Street a handful of lucid, sharp, exciting true words, clear in its dark, dark in its clarity .. .
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Presentation: Thursday 9 December 2010 19:30 h.
