Tuesday, 14 August 2018

Dovilė Kuzminskaitė

Lina Buivydavičiūtė Lina Buivydavičiūtė

All of us are sounds of noise. We are humming, continually ticking with our inner mechanisms, rustling, interacting with ourselves and with others, discharging quietly, or exploding like delayed-acting bombs. We are spawning, skimming through, and seething with fury.

Poetry is a sound of noise. For poetry, fury is not a necessary thing as well as fury does not require poetry. However, the text can be angry; it can be called out, "provoked" by something or someone, thriving its way from inside, or directed to something or someone like a weapon – even if it is an unperceivable, not identifiable thing, or it is you, the writing one. Poetry can be a knock out or knife to the back. A poem can go furious, rushing, and take one away with its current – or it can be a quiet reflection.

For poetry, whatever it may be, is written from anxiety.

Because the texts exist, and some exist by the texts.

Because there are no unreactive poems.



Lietuvos kultūros taryba
Lietuvos Respublikos kutūros ministerija
EU: Creative Europe