GELU VLASIN – presentation by Loredana Tudor - Tomescu
“Romanian Rhythm in Sydney” , 26th of March 2016, State Library of New South Wales
Journalist but, more important to me, poet, Gelu Vlasin writes that kind of poetry of which you can say is either good or bad, no grey area here. It all depends on one’s perception about love. If you see love as an eternal spring with trees blooming while snowing their pinkish-white petals over couples making vows of everlasting love, then it’s going to be mostly impossible to look to Vlasin’s poetry as if you’d just gained access to a private tour through Versailles secret chambers, or as if you’d be in front of an undiscovered yet 8th wonder of the world.
On contrary, if you see love as an ailment, affliction, illness, malaise or disease- of which I was so fortunate to have suffered plenty, thank God for that!- then Vlasin’s poetry gives us all the medical instruments to monitor this so badly needed, so badly wanted disease: Love.
When your heart is not yours anymore and it doesn’t listen to anything you want or ask from it, pounding as if it wants to jump out of your chest, in search of a more accommodating body- well, I can’t see it other than being a disease and that’s how I mostly feel when in love. Maybe that’s why Gelu Vlasin’s poetry is so familiar to me, so dear , almost like a mandatory medicine to keep this wonderful disease – love- at bay. Following the heart, our mind, our logic, our sense of being, our dreams, our plans, our friends and, ultimately, our life detonate themselves and you tell me: how is love NOT a disease?
All these and a lot more you can find in Gelu Vlasin’s poetry, where keeping an equal pace, constant temperature of the poetical phrase – how does he do it, really?- a stable intensity of all sort of crisis – panic attack, a bit of depression, well, a bit more, a short tag-play with dementia, a daring game of psychosis – the author highlights that love takes everything out of its natural place and never puts it back. And we all know Love Does That. So, quite few of us are going to recognize some of the feelings that once have troubled us.
Here are some of the books written by Gelu Vlasin: Ayla, Don Quijote The Wanderer, The Tower Poem, Panic Attack, The Last Breath, The Décor Man.
For today I have selected few poems from his debut book, “Treatise in Psychiatry”, already translated in 4 languages: French, English, German, Spanish.
You’re the short haired unknown subway episode
I gave you a y tram ticket then
And you told me
Have a brown haired boyfriend
With a decent salary
And a Garnet Cielo car,
And lacquer shoes “made in Italy”
And large bed sitter in the Romana Square…
Oh, how I’d like to tell you a few words
About Joyce Lauren Blanc or
One blue night,
Listening to Pink Floyd and Tom Waits
And drinking mulled wine
Ina wine cellar
In the city’s belly-button
-But you’re getting off
I wouldn’t have had money for two.
Your rebellious eyes are
Two big words
Dazed when the lips whisper the evening prayer
The hands suspended
Over the numb(ed) thighs
Or the fallen hair
In a speechless dream
The fake dusty covers
On top of which I pour
Chases me across hallways
…Mad race till dawn
To make me write
About my life
There are blanks by the windows
When your sleep dreams my dream.
A lie painted on purple canvas
Or the machine
That can clean
The other people’s sin…
The day before yesterday
I would have loved you for these blanks,
I would have buried my helplessness
In the common grave
Which is your kingdom…
There are blanks by the windows
While I’m still waiting for you…