POEMS OF LOVE UNCONSCIOUS THREE

ANTONIO GARCIA BARRIENTOS

ANTONIO GARCIA BARRIENTOS

POEMS OF LOVE UNCONSCIOUS THREE

Prologues: Antonio García Barrientos

Editorial Bubok

First Edition: November 2015

Copyright: Antonio García Barrientos

Copyright of the prologues: Antonio García Barrientos

Copyright: ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Cover photo: Copyright Antonio Garcia Barrientos.

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INDEX

Forewords 8-13

This is a special night 14

Design: I left home around nine... 15

Search a reality 16

Behold again 19

Desperate the sea 21

I keep tumultuous sea shadows 23

THE PAULAR 24

Summer evenings, listening to music in the office 25

I wonder how long 26

The young wind ... 28

It's like something terribly important ... 30

As a farewell 31

If you want to find the sun 32

Youth 33

A friend of the soul 35

Loneliness and the howl of the wolf 36

The head of a man 39

Sit down and rest 41

In precious words of amber 42

I, you, he ... 43

I had a strange dream tonight 45

She soft 47

My only refuge paper plane 50

A short wind 53

There is a certain warmth 54

My mother.

And all the people who loved me.

8

PROLOGUE TO LOVE POEMS UNCONSCIOUS.

These poems were written by me between 1975 and

1990 with the technique of AUTOMATISMO, free association

of ideas, WRITTEN JERK dictation of what were then the

semi-conscious, the unconscious, (also the collective), the

imagination, inspiration, muses (and shrews) ... my

personality (?), my feelings, my memories, my loves, desires,

fears, etc, without any censorship or prior or subsequent

processing. We must also say that supported my education

(high school) and previous readings that make up a life long

my cultural world. A cocktail that is expressed in these

pages. My mind was quite rational giving a logical and holds

the texts as a poetic structure. By compiling and typing in

the early 90s of last century writings "by hand" texts, some

pages contain written on different days, months, parties ...

and joined as chapters (I, II, V ...) the same poem. Some

words are invented and do not appear in the Spanish

dictionary. The poem is so free and searching, sometimes

internal rhythms... that one spelling, morphosyntactic

analysis, etc ... may not be enough and each reader can have

yours own. For example where pause or put a point ... As a

curiosity if any line poem does not lose sense is suppressed.

The chance may be confusing in a few verses. The texts are

as it were written not been subsequently reworked. It is in

Anyway a youthful work that has its maximum life activity

9

between 1975 and fall 1981. After a prolonged illness, which

insulates me, although I still painting and writing. I do not

take responsibility for the content that may be crazy, it is an

experimental work (abstract, fictional, literary, absurd ...)

where nobody knows where it will go. (I do not recommend

this technique). I apologize and warn you if your reading

leads error.

Madrid, August 25, 2011. Antonio García Barrientos.

10

PROLOGUE TO LOVE POEMS UNCONSCIOUS, 2

We respect the time they were compiled these verses, I

decided to preface this book with a text of his time. It is a

letter sent to the Registrar of Intellectual Property (of

Madrid) which was accompanied by texts and drawings. I

guess it retains the thought of that way of writing poems

and mentality of the time they were written between 1975

and 1990, a time of great revolutions in Spain: political,

economic, social, cultural, customs, religious, sexual...

PREFACE TO VOLUME THREE

I lived, I tried to make an anonymous art, ethereal,

almost dissolved in the air. I did not spend learning the

anonymous Romance, part that still fascinates me, the study

of the method of the guitar. The writings that have collected

in this book with illustrations to leave also registered to your

attention, in your reading, not just to forget my files, are like

my first two volumes of drawings, sketches. Sketches of

works and may not enter. Small café’s entertainment,

breaks between classes, between study and study weekends

downtime ... Some are letters which I dared not send their

target times ... also live ... They are in any case exercise of

freedom and spontaneity in the form of poems, letters,

liquid short prose. They are written in one go, with few

subsequent developments, only those ideological

censorship, fear, or shame me of the time imposed.

11

If you are interested, at the time I read authors in dire

recommendations. But there were also interesting. I will

quote, and carry you the conclusions: Rimbaud, Hölderlin,

Lovecraft, Dylan Thomas, Herman Hesse, Cortázar, Saint-

Exupéry, A. Machado, R. Darío, generating 27, Classic and

contemporary Spaniards, Walt Whitman, Gala , Gimferrer ...

Psychoanalysis and art in large quantities; theater, cinema

... Well, not bore you and especially, citing bored, count a lot

of world literature to their innermost (excuse) marginal.

Good to know and clarify is that, unlike the drawings

wherein other studios, dialogue and perhaps influence, this

just is in the poems. I think that is what most cleanly out of

me. I at least remember no intention of even study.

Sprouted and was discharged on paper and there were piled

up this time, in that brief corrections try to pass a clean

machine. Nor do I mean to say that everything is original, as

it never usually is, with few exceptions. In this case there

are previous readings, tributes and dialogues with

recognized authors art history, literature and poetry. ...

Make me feel the most privileged world and be the happiest

man on earth. I thank God for everything he has done for

me.

Madrid, 1992. Antonio Garcia Barrientos.

12

PROLOGUE TO LOVE POEMS UNCONSCIOUS, THREE

I am a worker of poetry, for whom this had become a

weapon sibling after a distant war (civil) and who had been

given the task of trying to repair, renew, to unite as possible;

lifting and return to the path of prestigious past splendor

without losing sight of the future, given the changes that

occur time and for whom the work of my own poetic world

had to develop in absolute freedom. So I let my mind and

my thoughts poetry of all stripes, even conflicting,

semiconscious, sex, absurd, abstract ... also resorted to the

chain of traditions in the history of literature, with which

dialogues and which is honors-, including traumatic, in both

Spanish and universal poetry. And I faced this (1975-1981

and 1982-1990) and the future of what I thought would be

my poetic world.

Notice the young and inexperienced reader who love

teaching poets and priests do not always coincide with

reality, or at least find difficult obstacles to live a normal

person. Therefore we should not forget that they are

somehow "literary realities" of which should learn but also

take care ... The world is not usually governed by the laws of

love as we understand the poets, although not exempt from

them. I lived and wrote at a time of national reconciliation

in which the kings and presidents of successive governments

wanted to be all Spanish nonpartisan exclusion. Although

13

the chaos of political, social and economic, more or less

controlled, life was considerable at that time.

I repeat that in my poetry, creating the symbolic world is

random and does not pass any rational filter though I was

very rational before pouring on paper and comes from the

various readings, screenings, conversations, dreams and

imaginations previous with youth that shaped my thinking.

In another painting I speak prologue on certain naivety to

refer to the way of doing my literary and artistic creation.

When I started writing I never thought that living poetry

and art were so complicated, but were secondary vocations

and then at successive times passed to the fore. Life treated

me right and wrong on long periods. Overall I had and have

a decent life, but I also knew the suffering and disease. And

was happy especially during the time I lived in love with the

woman, life; love with a / Love, people, studies and arts.

And was that a constant, almost always, though under

different intensities and priorities. Each know if anyone

offended, disappointed... for my writings or paintings I

apologize.

Madrid, August 26, 2014.

ANTONIO GARCIA BARRIENTOS

14

This is a special night.

Oh, yes, like so many others...

I sit on the bed undone,

and I see something I've done.

Yes Lord myself with my hands.

What contemplate everything as a finished work.

If a worker willingly drink red wine,

and give a bite piece of sausage...

But I'm just an idiot

why "I'd be" ¿¡"would be"!?...

Come tomorrow or the great friend

of those with glasses and uncertain look...

With his petulant and fearless look

will say: ¡¿What do you keep trying to do something?!

Or worse yet to say anything.

And tonight will shatter all morning.

15

Sketch:

I left home around past nine o'clock. I toasted a

delicious breakfast in the café opposite, a croissant, a

cafe, a cigar and a glass of water... Guarded by the

waiter. Scrutinizing my eyes for an answer, moving

deftly from left to right and attending me with excess

natural sympathy. ¡Too bad!, if he had been a woman,

really, would have been an easy pickup...

It rained and lightened step. The bus was waiting.

I always go to the terminal, but I fall farther... I almost

ended up asleep still smoking cigar breakfast. Clueless

got up to Orense’s street. The first office did not fall

far. Headed there to my tentative steps...

16

I

Find a reality

Fiction or whatever.

Something from another planet.

In another land, far.

II

Forgetting what is

and what has been.

To remember silences.

Other times, perhaps.

III

A daisy

grommet on the wall.

Covering the forest.

To sleep quiet.

IV

A man

or a flower.

A beauty.

Or the rest of the sleeping fields

along the banks of autumn wind.

V

Want to see a gray donkey

pleasant greeting the public

But it is sad that no.

17

VI

I wonder how late autumn

or what you want cold.

I have to follow my destiny.

As I think, I walk...

VII

If you kill the spring

where you will live the summer

Where the sad fall

how cold winter.

VIII

Forests or angels.

The immaculate blue space,

the moon, or the farmer when

land urine male sweat.

IX

Free features the look

bombastic authority.

You remember: Do not forget!

I tell dreams, fly...

X

I go to vain memories,

only way to understand

the present, distressing and empty...

Find a nostalgic feeling...

18

XI

Say I love you

Is saying something.

Recalling be

the end of the word.

XII

Dreaming....

Die....

Perhaps sleep.

Start.

Do Not ¡Dream, Live!

19

Here again.

This halftone.

Sometimes they get far

and other so late...

Behold, sighs and cries

like a bellows, as a bull...

Depends.

How the wind blows.

How to cherish the breeze;

¡Only...!

Now the bull, new vigor collected.

The sun sinks smashes

as strong as night.

And the entire society beats.

I do not know, I do not know...

In this maturity I bid you farewell.

You are in the meadow.

May you luck!

I was later. Good: Mount!

Good: the forest! Well, the strong loneliness!

I leave to remind forever.

Presumably I'm wrong: I waited!

It may take the bull came for me.

20

And I do not want to be, I did not want him.

But trees await slow... ALWAYS.

And ALWAYS only be JOIN (TWO).

Leave a pink blood... I can not.

And sorry, because it is more tender, more admirable.

I can only say I came without drawing sword.

(Do not know if I have, but I could need it).

¡Oh dreadful bull with beautiful look...!

Rest until the sun pour blood again.