We are now about to end in 2010, but fortunately the poetry is made to the test of time: the poems are appearing and taking his word and truth to the world. In Lima , recent weeks have been generous in book presentations and readings. It shows that the poetic movement is experiencing a period of great intensity and dynamism.
The curious-at least that's my impression, is that many of the books that have appeared and still appear quite bring personal proposals, real tones and an honest work with words, their core materials.
In this direction, Joe Montesinos Illesca (Lima - Peru, 1980 Guardian presents Cliffs, poems written between the years 1999/2008 worked in various cities. The presentation will be on Monday December 13th, at seven night, Raul Porras Barrenechea the Institute de la Calle Colina 398, Miraflores (height of the block 52 of Av. Arequipa). On this occasion I get the honor of sharing the table presentation and discuss the book with the poet Paul Guillén and literary critic Carlos Morales Falcon. Everyone is invited to this evening of poetry and friendship. Montesinos
Illesca studied design and graphic arts, as well as some paint and Literature at the Universidad Nacional Federico Villarreal. Currently studying the discipline of psychology. Poems and stories published in some print and digital magazines. He collaborates with Kaleidoscope magazine. His poetry appears in Other Villains, an example in poetry and narrative. He runs the independent label Birds Ear Wires through which publishes magazines Cuervo Illuminated, raucous and Argonauts.
Then a small sample of his poetry.
BRANCHES (Fragment)
A noir, E blanc, I rouge, U vert, O bleu: Voyelles. Rimbaud
Sometimes I think that these words written
the return of a sad drunk
are not mine nor me, nor for the tree
sleeping at my side, but I realize
at times
that I who write,
because in the mirror I see my eyes,
after cigarette smoke, with shelter
nuclear explosions and orphaned children with outstretched hands.
In the air are these words
swatting flies. MUSICAL
Orbita my tongue around the cactus, I put the skin
my shadow, I cover eclipse
landscapes of fields, stumbling
in his hat and leaves a beautiful whistling skull.
Sound like a carpet spread in the wind:
The guitar purrs
climb the mountains chords on tiptoe, feral cats squirm
light
a woman with leopard
color becomes dust,
crawling on my knees, there
drum on his lap, knives, flame, stirred by it.
A gentle revenge
and we'll play naked on the turntable.
Junín, 2008
* Photo 1 of Joe Montesinos was taken by Laura Rosales.
Literature. Poetry. Joe Illesca Montesinos. Guardian the cliffs.
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