III. The hidden well

About Liliana Negoi and “The hidden well”:

Having authored already two collections of poetry, the “Sands And Shadows” and “Footsteps On Sand – tanka collection”, Liliana Negoi takes one step further in proving that words are living entities and that language is one field that can never be depleted of possibilities. “The Hidden Well” is a volume of 50 poems, bolstering the author’s role as a pathfinder and taking the reader deep into the layers of meanings of feelings and thoughts. The topics have a certain variety, but the Romanian poetess’s preference for philosophy in this poetry collection, even in the works bearing love’s mask, is quite obvious. Determined to explore both the already known and the yet unknown, Liliana is, according to Yelena Sapranova, “a poet who deeply loves words, and this in combination with sincerity of expression endows her creations with an immediately recognizable element that you perceive as you begin to read her works. If you FEEL, you will fall in love with her poetry.”

“The hidden well” – ISBN 978-1-4717-5056-4 – is now available on Lulu.com in paperback version and on Amazon Kindle as e-book, and starting May 2013 it is also available in audio version on Soundcloud:

Below you can read a random sampling of the book’s content:

“[…] there were five tombs,
each colored differently
and feeding the roots of a different flower,
and each sheltering in its womb
the relics of a different word.

‘the keys’ he said, ‘to the tombs’ entrances,
are the fingers of your hand,
one for each door.
beware though – once you start to open them
you must open them all, at any cost’.

his voice was black and holey
and with a shiver i just knew that he was telling the truth.”
(from “the key master”)

“postponing paradise
can taste either sweet
or bitter
and it always weighs the same
with a grain of absolute silence.”
(from “shelving Eden”)

“…the color of the poem that i never wrote –
the poem that never left the cage of my mind,
that was always held captive
within the maze of my selfish insanity,
the ever prisoner of my quill –
that is what the horizon looked like
early this morning…”
(from “shijin revelations”)

“i was an omen, and aware of that,
and fated to uproot his will
by any means of the word or of the sand.
my water washed his feet
of the memory of the road he had taken so far,
and pensive
he sliced my narcotic noise into thin chords
sentient of the danger within them,
and breathed in their lifting vapors.”
(from “crossroad”)

“excavating
the bones of words,
his tongue kept
teasing the smooth edge
of sounds unheard
since the times of
angels…”
(from “shift”)