Luiza Cala (Romania)

Luiza Cala (Romania)

Luiza Cala is a plastic artist, novelist, poet, cultural journalist.
He published ten books: poetry, prose, interviews.    
She participated in book festivals in the country (Bukfest 2018,2019, Galați, Râmnicu Vâlcea), but also abroad (Turkey, Bulgaria, Poland)
He is a member of the Union of Professional Journalists in Romania
Organize cala-tiene evenings, cultural evenings, in luiza cala gallery-workshop
57 CUVINTE


Pythia's Shadow

For a while I'm looking for Pythia,
The vestal of Delphi.
When I asked the no age women,
They told me to chew laurel
Until I start to see she.
I have arrived at Delphi
To delete the distance,
To finde Pythia.
But Pythia wasn't there either.
Sometime, wide,
I heard a murmur coming
From the bowels of the earth.
I didn't understand babbling
Coming from the cliffs.
A steam hid the voice
That one who was reading
To Apollo.
Listening I succeeded
To sell the last shadow,
The shade of the laurel
Bent over the horizon.
Some Gods from afar took it.
They said they would plant it
On their planet.

Is Pythia your sister?


The street of my inner gods!

The place where the sun rises
Even in the midle of the night,
As many times as I want,
When I want,
It's the street you gave me.

My street with generous gods
And a few travelers.

On my street I live together
With a sea of gentle souls.
Sometimes it seems to me
That an eagle of prey
Lurks.
No, it's just a memory
Who's trying to tell me
That this street was mine before!

The street of my inner gods!


School of emotions

On the first flights
The seagull wept;
The wings were heavy,
Sky too high,
The earth too low,
It was all too far away!
Nothing was too,
It was all just
A school of emotions!


The Train of Hope

Birds of prey woke up,
People roam through yesterday,
Creepers sleep.
Just the train of hope
He doesn't want to stop
At no station,
The train carries weapons
For the terrible war.
Seagulls tied in harnesses
By the crown
Made of cannon iron,
I send diaphanous flakes
Over the train of hope
Just, just, stop it
In the valley of tranquility, peace,
In the valley of fulfillment!

Let's grow new wings of hope!


Meaning of discrimination

Today the rainbow asked me
Why don't I call him anymore?
Always wait
In the western corner,
Where the colors
Multiply, lengthen
To another east,
To another wonder.
He confessed to me ashamedly
That he wanted to call me Man,
But he was afraid
Not to discriminate
The other creatures.
The rainbow no longer understands
If they are discriminated against
Or The Man?
It's way too weird
The new world!
Whatever you say,
It can be wrong.
The silent and beautiful rainbow,
Withdraw
In the last clean tear,
That of the child born,
Still untouched
Of political correctness.
The rainbow falls on thoughts
And he knows that people
They won't talk anymore
For fear of making mistakes.
How easily it disappears
A world!?!
Meaning of discrimination
Needs wisdom!


We were

The hands of your thought
Where looking for
My late pleasures.
Your heart was too far beyond,
And  culpable glances
Hid in the fold
Imagined by my desires.
You, contorted,
Wandering through
The last train station.
I was your mystery.
We were!
This possible communion
Uplifts us
Over the ninth heaven.