in English

action is an extroversion of the body

by Sofia Demetrula Rosati

On this page you can read the English translation of the book “action is an extroversion of the body”, tranlated by Sofia Demetrula Rosati

author’s note

Although it resembles an anthology in its format, “action is an extroversion of the body”, unfolds as a single poetic text in twelve acts, twelve frameworks in which action is extroverted. High tension is the leitmotiv which unfolds throughout the entire anthology and creates a clear beginning and an epilogue.

Every single completed action implies the subsequent one. Every single extroverted action maintains its uniqueness. Thus the poems are broken down over various pages, leading the reader to two precise actions: the first one lengthens the pause between one verse and another, as you leaf through the pages; the second one fixes the preceding verse into memory, connecting it to the next page, maintaining concentration. Tension, held back thusly, leads you to reading out loud.

By stimulating the reader’s body through recitative movement, the body will participate in the poetic-creative act, reproduced through recitative action. An extroversion of the body which has a conscious nature, but not a rational one.



action is an extroversion of the body

 action is     an extroversion     of the body
supported by silent bones and
                  meditative in  
                                             a late hour

                 while the falcons ride the
                 wind sated with the day

The  warm hand rests
on the face to
                            stimulate the    nerves

the body is extroverted in
   an agitated      movement  which
       stirs the hammock hanging on
              trellises of light and   
              on which it rests

movement seems        disconnected
so much     that the body is shaken      towards
opposite directions and     bones
                                                             lose concentration

it seems   but    the oscillation of the hammock
slowly restores      equilibrium

             the falcons return to their nests on the
             rocks and face the wind proud

the hand has   detached from the  face

the air is warm  and calm

I hate this breathing into emptiness

I hate this breathing     into     emptiness

                         the cursor on the screen beats
                                                         intermittently      but does not
                                                                                        produce sound
silence is dense and
             I have to swallow it   continuously to
                           make     room for me

refracted sound
                 produces   single     bothersome notes

I thought I could
                  remain seated     and
consoling the edges   and
                         curves of the     room
                                                               among the objects

instead I find myself throwing
                       material away continuously
                                         in order not   to be suffocated

possibility is     an error   underlined in red

so rarefaction prevails

so rarefaction     prevails
specific weight   has     denounced  
                                                     the law of gravity

            the vastness of space
is the right measure      for me
to count the steps on     the straight     vertical line

I no longer fear    now 
fulfillment dilates     the walls    of the stomach and
             the spasm is no      longer clenched by anguish but
                     fluctuates     hanging on     an umbrella

I can know you     blindfolded  
            without fearing that you     see me blind 

I can learn     to love    while I gather
           the ripe fruit      fallen from the trees

without hurry    sitting while waiting that
                      still sour

because life is     long for those who
have    exhausted     their questions 

one by one I recognized you

one by one     I recognized you
in the vulgar exhalation     of your stride

I have not allowed   losing  you     at the crossroads
in following you I have        generated
                                        photovoltaic   connections

It doesn’t matter if      you have made    alliances
a glance is      faster     than thought
intercepts the light    yellow orange  
of your      contaminations  
                                    at primordial speed

High voltage has bent   space and   time
            into a right angle
clinging onto the edge     I cry out     and
call you    one by one     incessantly

        so that     you will not lose     memory

you can walk between my scapulae

you can walk      between my
Leave your shoes      on the stairs
weight is not      specific

I have learned to   converse with
                                             the wooden floor

I can write on     my face    
                                without    you realizing it
I can     eat    
               without      you seeing me   suffocate

if the light does not    blind     it can remain
I never  had the      feeling of being there
                             and yet    my fingerprints    were taken

I have a face     white and black   
before     the lens

I have given you so much power 

I have given you much power 
shadowing the verb    until the action
     I have cleared the street    to be crossed  
     I have connected the cords    of the lights
            I have picked out the doors  which can be opened 
                                     leaving the keys    clearly in sight

my eyes always fixed
              on your scapulae     and
                               suddenly stopping    
and then   taking again   
with shoes      in hand

stalking action until the     verb

I have given you  power
                                     the implored one
with distracted gaze      and
when you extended your     hand to  
                             complicate the pretension
a presence in space     it was declared 

- THEN -       it became a verbal tense

     we were all there     looking on
     illusions on the  trelisses  of light
     we lay on the warm     rass      and
     we began to    to eat it

then   we proceeded in small leaps    the conjugations returned

I confused my name with its meaning

I confused     my name    with its meaning 
          I broadened the    outline of      my profile
                       following an    arbitrary movement     
                                   subject to knowledge

but in observing the     movement
       it didn’t     add    up
                the volumes containing and
                             those     contents

I had to reduce the outline      of my profile
     fix my name     spelling it out
              with a labial     movement                      
                                          subject to desire

in the inertia of waiting     I eat oranges    spreading the aroma

I have given birth to a uterus

I have given birth to  a uterus 
               I have sewn     myself inside

               they look for and     do not find me
they outline     perimeters     on my corporeality

the floor is strewn with       mechanical detectors
              but the recorded voices     I have them with me

the exercise of action in search    is done     in
coincidental     consideration     of the facts
                                               but the exact      version  of the facts
                                               is made impossible

halved by the    desperation    of the meaning
they are seated in     wide spaces      excavated and
throw small       stones   inches from the water's surface

while    they caress     their hot soft     abdomens
an intense aroma of    oranges   floods them    


there is no exact version of the facts

there is no      exact version    of the facts
the transcriptions are   rounded up to    the truth minus one
witnessing has      always been closed    between
                                the doorframe and         its  screen

what remains is     the diagonal of the received
family tree      without mutants

    the assumptions      can no longer
                  be taken into      consideration
movement    remains     the only
                possible  action   and

the uterus roles    down the rocks
   shaken   by the movement     of air
      From  the solid beats of    falcons' wings   that
            return to their     nests

the sun     late and hot
dissects the    thin layer    of uterine flesh
the body oozes out    and stretches      
                                               in search of wetness 

nerves envelope     the bones
dominant and resolute    in evident     fragility
limbs regain       security     and
a hand runs      speedily on the ground

   smelling like  pomegranate  the warm blades of grass

yet the question imposes importance

yet the question      imposes importance
the sensation is to be    able to   disconnect
                         an ellipsis of time     if
      the questions stretch out on the grass
             concentrated on the umbalanced oscillation
                                                               of the hammock

those who have
         questions and queries
the importance of    waiting for a
      month of new moon to   employ
             verbal exercise

the body    in widespread discrepancy
controls the    migration of      its shadow
   in mute observation of the     yellow-orange light
                              which comes from below

but the arrival of the new moon dislocates the  
                                           the verbal procedure
questions arise     one by one and
           they proceed       on the vertical straight line
those who have       breath and questions
                    move towards following them

     but escape is not   within their possibilities

and the unwritten page

and the unwritten page    
the measure of     all
non-action      determines the state of    the non-agent  
   while the futile details     of life accumulate

         the blades of grass thicken
         bones blanche under the sun
         teeth yellow
but the page remains unwritten

the extroversion of the body     does not
     leave visible traces     if only
             the movement of air   felt a few
                                                                 meters on

heat imposes a break on the    edge of the road
       while he who watches    can flow swiftly

insulin in  veins    does not manage    the oppressive
                 incapability of    metabolizing sweetness

in the glare of blindness   writing is not    an agent

while suicide is    quickly buried
without even the    sign of the cross

        in a field of      fruit trees      the
        exercise of free will       is declared

extroversion no longer has witnesses

extroversion no longer      has witnesses
action turns its back      to the demolished

      the pace proceeds slowly  
      the wind does not have    odors
      fruit is no longer      the nourishment

of the horizon’s curve
marks the stride   calming it

we proceed     without leaving a trace

© sofia demetrula rosati