"Voice-known writers" hear the voice Julio Cortazar, Juan Gelman, Augusto Monterroso, Ernesto Cardenal, Pablo De Rokha, Pablo Neruda and Charles Bukowski. Adding that a good read aloud captive, love, lifts the listener, attracts people and creates followers into literary art. We hope you enjoy this program.
VOICE OF FIRST KNOWN WRITERS FESTIVAL IS POETRY IN THE STREET
NOW THE FOURTH AND LAST PART OF THE FESTIVAL AUDIO.
On the 9th, 10th, 11th and October 12th was held the first festival "POETRY IS IN THE STREET" in Bogota and surrounding towns. This festival was with the participation of Colombian poets and artists recognized and unrecognized. The festival served its purpose, to bring poetry to the place where born, where we walk every day, to where we all stand more time: the street. Festival organized by the group "The literary periphery." This is his blog for more information and to see photographic records of the festival: http://laperiferialiterariabogota.blogspot.com/ LITERAMUS RADIO tracked the festival to make audio files on this blog. Are invited to hear what happened in the first annual Poetry Festival is on the street. "
His personal interests include reading with emphasis on philosophy, medieval history and history of religions and general issues having to do with human behavior. As a result of their studies adopted the Buddhist philosophy of life as the main standard that guides their development, without being a strict follower of all their practices, especially if one believes that Buddhism is the right way. In this short interview talking about his book "History of romantic love" The purpose of this book is to invite readers to reflect on the reality of love, looking for a way to differentiate rational infatuation and true love, oblivious to conditions, to begin training to practice the true love that is based on the knowledge and acceptance of our true personality, that we will achieve freedom and respect for the individuality of each, to accept the couple as it is, without trying to change it.
hereby made the invitation to listen to this short talk, you enjoy it.
Take out the trash (or letter of Mia Farrow and Woody Allen)
Hello, dear bastard.
have long wanted to write. About 7 years or so. The time I've not heard a drill that reached the nausea when I thought of you. Now, there is only the nausea.
Today, Frankie, Isahiah, Moses, Eliza and Kaeli-Shea were here. It was a nice day. We played cricket and ate pancakes. Uhh ... kilos do not know why I can only accumulate on the hips. I believe that although he weighed 100 kilos, my face would still be thin and faint image that we all expect. Of you "boring" and fragile woman, but "solid and decent." You image. 15 years have passed ... God mine! A long time! not to forgive, right. But you could say I'm happy now (although you)
Ever wanted to know what hurt me most of all "matter"? Well I tell you now: It was you. YOU were the only author of my pain. not what you did with that girl, with whom he played as the park with my confidence, my innocence ... But what you did to me.
Did you thought you knew? Did you think to recreate in your mind several straws? The prudish helpless. The "passive-aggressive, troubled, dreamy, always hesitant and unhappy with her life. A wet match Is this how you saw me? Oh! What happened to your kitty freckled your incandescent and naughty girl ...? Hm, blushes now, sir?
you know? I did not see one of your last verbal diarrheas film, god forbid. Just one question: Are you going to keep doing the first thing that comes to mind for much longer? Leave your muse Did you ever talk to God also for your inspiration? haha! I think voluptuous girls surround yourself in old age does not increase your creative potential. And I think our sweety does not seem to help ... (... Tell him I've never hated). To you yes, but not for long. Hatred, destroys our karma. (Yes, this too can trade taunts one of the next character from one of your next few clunkers).
Well, damn vermin, just one more thing before I close. Want to know why I let her use in all your prostitution film? Why jokingly put up with it will show my kindness? Because
loved you little bastard. Because I loved you, trusted you. why I have embarked on what I had asked. I had given my face and my soul, skinned it in any of your lucubrations pseudo-movie buffs. For public you smile before my cruel parody, to be solace to my shame ... Now everything is over.
is night and sleep all the crickets sing. can breathe a huge cosmic peace.
awoke early that morning. Wanted to prepare a good breakfast, taking advantage of it was the weekend and he had to go to work.
- Breakfast is the best meal of the day "I used to say it.
She, in truth, was not very hungry at that hour, but would accompany him with tea and toast and enjoy that morning without timetables.
Recently, for one reason or another, did not share many breakfast tranquilos.Si stopped to think, do not know why exactly. It is true that he had begun to acquire other commitments on weekends. Before, they always went together, but now used to do an activity or sport with friends. But then, he said, during the week only had time to work.
She made scrambled eggs and croissants to the plate, and arranged everything on the dinner table. He
clean linens, a ceramic plate with a chunk of butter and three different kinds of sweet jam. went to wake the room, whispering that breakfast was ready. He released two grunts burying his face in the pillow, and said he would go away.
She sat beside the table and stared at the wall.
Then looked at the assorted breakfast, which featured a harmony of shapes and colors perfect. Japanese tablecloths, china, pure white.
Joined to see if the tea had cooled. Rose cover, still smoking and found with his hands the intense heat of the ceramic. He sat, waiting.
butter had lost some of its solid appearance, so he got up and put it back into the refrigerator. Remove it again when he arrived. Opened a magazine. - Perhaps you could take a second heat to the eggs - he thought.
Finally he appeared, sleepy. Passed him and touched his shoulder with his hand to continue towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The house was a loft design modern and had invested months of searching to find it.
looked at the wall, studying the damage that had come with time.
The times I had spoken to paint it all over again, he had proved elusive. - Do not know how long we'll be here, "he said. - Here in the world, or in this apartment? - She thought.
spent 10 minutes long and he still did not leave the bathroom. decided then reheat the eggs and make a second area. If there was something that really bothered him was the tea lukewarm, neither cold nor hot. I feel the relationship for months. What this man could be doing so long in the bathroom? The croissants would be cold and hard. also had cut a kiwi and a pear. He wanted to mourn.
He then appeared in the kitchen. He approached her and kissed her distracted, looking out the window. She smiled, still holding the skillet handle with one hand grabbing, or wooden spoon to gently tap giving the eggs with the other.
- That ... I was thinking ... - He said hesitantly. - the car. I do not know if I made it parked-
She remained motionless, holding the handle of the pan with one hand and the wooden spoon with the other.
- just do not know if today counts as a holiday or business. This mess of areas. Like I'll look in a moment, I do not want anything to happen, like last time I went back .-
the door.
- Yes, most of that under a second. So I'm not alone. It costs me nothing -
I watched her disappear behind the door and heard the front door close. Continued with the handle of the pan subject. The wooden spoon was giving up on the mess.
RADIO LITERAMUS was in the recording book fair presentation of the book "Green Apples for breakfast" Milciades Arévalo writer, director magazine's "battle station" and the editorial "The society of the imagination" and organizer of this event which also featured the writer Agustin Castillo reading some of his poems published in his book "The Flight of sadness." Dina Luz Yajaira pinilla Pardo and shared their poems published in the anthology "Flight of jasmine." And last Luz Helena Cordero presented the book of erotic short stories "Green Apples for breakfast" by Miltiades Arévalo.
JOHN JAMES, Colombian writer. BOOK FAIR OF BOGOTA 2009
RADIO LITERAMUS was in the Bogotá Book Fair held from 12 to 23 August. There we saw the Colombian writer John James, with whom we chatted about his recently published book, "YOU AND WE", essay in which he takes us through the issues of feminism and sexism, inviting us to reflect and question the discourse and content of these two movements or behaviors so ingrained in society. In his own words tells us that the book is written in order to understand as much as possible the differences between us without leaving the demagoguery that for years has prevailed over the children and our health, so that way we will chain link, carving paths for women / men to open their minds and allow the global change inside, the contemporary and future world requires them screaming. "In the interview tells us more of his book. You can listen to our audio file. To contact John James, you can write to e cinepaisa@yahoo.com or visit their editorial Http://www.iconogramaltda.com/
Bachelor of Social Science, National Pedagogical University and a member of the National Network for Students of Literature. He participated in the Poetry Festival in Bogotá and Manizales Floral Games, his poems have appeared in publications such as the newspaper "La Patria" and "Breeze Virtual Library." He is the author of the books "Desdóblate Silence" and " Excessiveness. "
I've been pulling away from the wind as a herbarium sheets: gambol on the roads that converge on the tree in your absence; muted compared to dark and velvety blooms. voice These words grow stertorous in my body that ivy on the wall of silence and tear; are depleted in family tables that give me the bread and take my empty
neatly in room conversations.
In the silence of intimacy, I look at my utensils: candles, mirror, wall legs knife.
invention In the night clay words but you can not hear them.
MAYDAY
I
From the time that one sees passing before him, inside a packed bus from the stock of accumulated brain work is done in the arduous tasks of the cooks
from the heat given off pots where food is cooked, almost every day poor women offer me their love, to procreate point several times, to make me make me
vivo human
and how long I wanted to give my love. ..
Venous II, bony, blood drenched blue, little hands reach for the sky
forming a cloud are the hands of a body that I recognize. Clarino degrade the clouds. It will rain soon cyanide
few will be saved without fleeing the carnage
or try to leave the Earth and make secure enclosures will be sent against their disaster
on the Moon or Mars, few.
POEMS OF THE BOOK "excess" FRESH COMMITMENT
Words rich liquid movements consecration pleasant: your sweet endeavor.
for me or anyone especially for you sweet warm nest fire groan helplessly captive black
huge sweet heroic efforts shell with voltage armies. Beauty among bamboos
hashish, wisdom lotus, frankincense rich dark words
movements street and wisdom of cigarettes
pink cheeks
fur shoulder suspenders. Business suits
cachetero volleyball
with beautiful butts.
Especially for you sweet aroma fire
brown body. Especially for me
lapidary agile smiling dirty the streets working with rats, scientists beggars, drug trash, dumb girls buses
stock buildings buildings buildings dirty
the procuring adequate to keep on enjoying
final disfrutándote candy as a precious historical materialized in a body in your sweet endeavor.
ALTAFULLA ANDREA PAULA GOLDEN, born in Bogotá in 1978. Political scientist at Javeriana University, cofounder of the literary magazine "Workshop on the Road", has published poems and essays in various media in South America: Colombia: Revista Gavia Urika Review, Journal of the House of Poetry Silva, magazine Rank Combat, Journal Stinger. In Ecuador: Revista Ourovourus. In Mexico: La Jornada Semanal. In Venezuela: Newspaper Subject Almada.
For more information on their creative work visit his blog that is in our friendly links: PAULA ANDREA ALTAFULLA, http://omphalus.blogspot.com/
NOSTALGIA
irreparable loss of a natural territory Difficult to recover the wisdom of the tree voice stream
the flight of the crane Banished
pilgrims of the world today are the poets
Perhaps poetry has acquired new outfit and no longer sits on pristine land or terrible
Human complexity has attracted central space occupied by the White Goddess. WORD
is a mistake to think that he is alive
should aspire only to be in the mouths of those who survive us.
graduate of the University Publisher Centra (Bogotá-Colombia 2007. Assistant to the creative writing workshops dictated by the Creative Foundation Workshop and Writers' Workshop participant of the Central University 2005.Textos prom hers have been published in literary magazines in Ecuador, Venezuela, Colombia and Mexico among others. Published book: "The embrace of a gray day" 2004. He has published in luxury editions of books-book "touchstone" in which includes his poetry. Laugh, sing and dream all the time!
In his blog "touchstone" is his work and his poetic wanderings through Bogota (in our links is TOUCHSTONE friends)
TANGO WOMEN PAIN
Ju, Companion of time
and heartbreak songs.
With his voice breaking as Malena She also sings a tango With swollen eyes and hearts mended.
Every breath of the bandoneon snatches a piece of the soul reviving the ghost of a thousand names.
Accustomed to the secret of oblivion runs where lost hope that burn in the glory attached to the skin with a mate who knew digs deep to take it to then release.
With his voice breaking as she Malena off a tango while love again postponed and swallows the passion for a more courageous a single face bring fire on the lips in a milonga and not a fake sadness believed to tango.
DESCENT OF STAIRS Inevitable not to approach the scorching love, That calling you from the crowd.
impossible not to admire, not be blinded by the poison of your routine warm not get you, not be seduced by your lips chapped That breath stifling, almost rotten out of your mouth.
I fear, I fled , But the passion is stronger than fear And in the end I always end up handing the fate of your nights.
AFTER BREAKFAST
A this distance, you let yourself love, hurt Undoubtedly, No fears interfere. Here
eyes do not matter because you look in the distance does not infringe. You
yet peaceful Middle asleep Still, we all know the danger of knowing.
Luis Alejandro Galvis (COLOMBIA, 1978-2004) tribute. ARIAS RAUL MORENO
LUIS ALEJANDRO GALVIS: Suaita (Santander, Colombia) 1978 - 2004. Marketer. He studied Cultural Management at the Catholic University of Chile. Participated in workshops taught creative writing in 1997 by the House of Poetry Silva. His work has been broadcast in the following publications: Ulrica Poetry Review No. 33 (Colombia). Website Redshoes poetry (Argentina). He was invited to read their texts in the Cabaret Voltaire "(Buenos Aires - Argentina, June 2003) and ESPERGESIA VII Encuentro Latinoamericano de Young Poets. (Bogota, Colombia, August 2003). Chile was correspondent of the Journal of the Road Workshop. He published the poetry book "Southern Territories" (Bogotá - Colombia, 2003) FUNCRETA EDITIONS. His last work was "Lost Wind" published in Chile in 2004. On the website "Suicidiario of suicide and suicide" are some words that refer to aspects of his life and his suicide written by Rodolfo Ramírez, Diana Carolina Daza http://suicidiario.bitacoras.com/archivos/2005/10/07/el-edificio-lubiere-luis-alejandro-galvis wrote "A fitting brackets" dedicated to Luis Alejandro and all his friends in common at the following address: RADIO LITERAMUS http://piedradetoque2009.blogspot.com/2008/10/un-merecido-prentesis.html makes a fitting tribute to Luis Alejandro Galvis. Introducing his voice and his work was made possible by a recording made by UN Radio station 98.5 (Bogotá - Colombia) and the program "Quantity Bewitched," directed by Orinzon Perdomo. Some poems of Luis Alejandro: DECADE At the crossroads of the mountain guide Grass Flower wind pursues CENTER City Transit since yesterday a dream of the girl now is a single distance. Judgement Happening, steps back from the gallows, murderer Hands Without enough blood, a warm body at his feet and tables of pleasure. The lips of the street learn fast: Gestures Across The heart awakens windows Hearing inheritance left hands together, not easy to choose, not choose, Drop the gun ... On time. TWICE Twice born never dies Only the body burns in the sacrifice. Swap memory not based fluids history. Twice before the shield always disarm a sword discharged on the strings I was promoted as the air-sea. And there is the Site: Fire across the south, cloud spilled over the streets, a replica, which initiates the migration Flock And scatters because not everyone can back to the birth
Raúl Arias Moreno was born in Bogotá on 11 October 1971. Painter, poet, essayist, guitar player, portrait, pyrographer, student of graphic design, art film club founder "The film has the word" at the Public Library Tunal. Writer of numerous unpublished poems. He published the book "Verses on the corner" edited by La Casa de la Cultura de Candelaria La Nueva. Participant in the first district contest murals of Bogotá.
TRIBUTE TO POET José Manuel Arango (1937-2002). POEMS IN HIS OWN VOICE. TUESDAY 16 JUNE 2009, 7 PM
José Manuel Arango (Colombia 1937-2002). Degree in philosophy Her poetry, instrumental in the anthology of our day-and night-was awarded the Acknowledgment of the University of Antioquia in 1988. Are your books: in a low voice. " Biography taken from the book "Who's Who Colombian poetry " Roger Echavarría
X
to cross a river me naked with his body risky
like a river at night
Cantigas de Amigo
And after a moment of uncertainty facing the unknown
then by virtue of the gesture reminded returns as the friend who after rain knocks
we helped to undress her clothes hung to dry by the fire
and hear the story of his journey recognizing ourselves in their ways
castaway XLVI
WRITING
night as he left his animal condensation on my window
by between needles of the trees look cold
and glass fogging with the index, write this ephemeral word
LITERAMUS born from the idea of \u200b\u200bkeeping alive the voice of writing, literature read by their creators. Founded with the purpose of opening a space for hearing dissemination of literature, creating several programs focused on making small radio interviews and record the voice of the writers and their works literary. For this purpose, for the moment, two programs are issued monthly, they are forming a music library with the voices and writers who have had limited distribution or little-known literature that does not have a platform to allow its history audio files.
The protagonist is the writer or author and literature, and there is no attempt to define who is a good writer and who is not. The LITERAMUS and guests are not subjected to a selection for participation and audio recording, those wishing to sit in front of the microphone to read their writings are welcome. This is not to say that this gives good or bad literature, but we intend to add a contribution to the literary world, the work of classifying the writers who pass through here it is up to the listeners. LITERAMUS's work is to establish this station accessible to all and all, a station that is available to those who accept the invitation and wish to leave your ear to the world record. are also welcome independent publishers, magazines, web portals, literary groups, etc., All somehow make literature and want to spend to broadcast his voice, news, events, what comes to mind.
This project is not new, but perhaps needed a place where to listen, because everyone we have had the dream to record and make him known to our friends and relatives read literary works in our own voice, and that is one of our purposes.
This area is not specialized in literature, also made small contributions through reading and some inquiries to the lyrics of songs and biographies of rock bands, metal and other music you want to show the guest writers. In a another program to take the letters and ideologies of the bands, not to dwell too much, because there are many groups that deserve special care and attention for the analysis of his lyrics. The idea is to show a bit of literature created by musicians who thrill us and make us sing to feel alive.
programming will vary according to the new voices who wish to join to work with LITERAMUS RADIO, so if you want a radio do not hesitate to communicate.
Note: this project is voluntary, no money, no financial support. Only it has the support that each of the listeners to hear it or run to work or make their literary work LITERAMUS RADIO.
remains the invitation to listen LITERAMUS RADIO.
If you have any suggestions or want to read, record your voice and transmit their creative work, just call and we do.
RADIO LITERAMUS has focused on the dissemination of literature read by their authors, so our main objective is to record the voices of writers to be forming a literary audio library where anyone can listen to your friend writer or artist talking about his life, his art and reading their own work.
Another goal hearing is to present through a cultural or literary event, submit reviews, book launches and issues relating to literature that can be presented through audio in our radio station. Issuer
- Aha-seat the minds dazed professional and / or lost - Does that mean I'm a lesbian? - (seek professional answers for So I am there ...)
- Can ... and may not respond very Hegelian- professional insipid.
I have read that women tend to paint flowers, with its majestic almonds that are opened and displayed in beautiful blossoms. But my mussels are always like, spiral born in the same spot ...
I for now I'm sleeping with guys. I ran out of money and without answers.
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