THE PEACE OF THE EVENING

 

***

The soft peace of the evening
sinks down upon the countenance
the expectancy retreats
into her life with those pages
beyond the earth of the puffed-up
words that gave birth to her.

AI

The artificial intelligence by impulse

rotates the jackass's muzzle 

so that he stand with his eyes in the sun 

and she tells him in an iron voice, 

"Look there at the sun, you singer."

Stances d’amour : un livre qui accompagne, qui bouleverse, qui reste.

 Stances d’amour — Vlad Neagoe

Un livre qui ne se contente pas de parler d’amour : il l’ouvre, le déplie, le met à nu.

Dans ces poèmes d’une intensité rare, Vlad Neagoe explore les tremblements du désir, les silences qui brûlent, les gestes qui sauvent. Chaque stance est une chambre secrète où l’on entre sur la pointe des pieds, pour découvrir une voix qui sait unir la vulnérabilité à la puissance, la douceur à l’abîme.

Un recueil pour ceux qui aiment l’amour dans toute sa vérité : fragile, incandescent, indomptable. Une poésie qui ne cherche pas à séduire, mais à révéler.

Stances d’amour : un livre qui accompagne, qui bouleverse, qui reste.

STANZAS OF LOVE BY VLAD NEAGOE🌟 Discover a new architecture of emotion. 🌟

 Looking for poetry that doesn't just speak, but sings? Step into the world of Vlad Neagoe’s acclaimed verse. Stanzas of Love delivers a stunning masterclass in modern romance—where raw, lived experiences melt into harmonious, musical motion.

• Maximum Verbal Condensation: Every line is packed with sharp, vivid imagery that bypasses the superficial.
• A Dance of Mind and Heart: Seamlessly blending deep romanticism with witty irony and sharp imagination.
• Pure Lyric Ecstasy: Perfect for readers who want to feel the absolute highs and lows of passion.

✨ Immerse your soul in unforgettable rhythm.

🔗 Find your copy of Stanzas of Love on Amazon today!

Essay on Stanzas of Love by Vlad Neagoe

 

The essential truth about Stanzas of Love is that it is not a book of poems about love; it is a book in which love becomes the very substance of existence, the medium through which being, suffering, desire, death, and revelation are experienced. Vlad Neagoe’s work is not “lyrical” in the conventional sense—it is metaphysical, visionary, erotic, and apocalyptic. It belongs to that rare lineage of poets for whom love is not an emotion but a cosmic force, a principle of creation and destruction, a metaphysical engine that shapes the world.

From the first pages, the reader understands that Neagoe writes from within love, not about it. The voice is not descriptive but immersive, often ecstatic, often tormented, always searching for the point where the human and the divine touch. The poems are not “scenes” or “episodes”; they are eruptions, revelations, fugues, and metaphysical tremors.

1. Love as Ontology: The World Exists Because Love Exists

Neagoe’s poetry repeatedly asserts that love is not an ornament of life but its foundation. Love is the force that “forces the world / to be” (). It is the origin of movement, of thought, of suffering, of transcendence. In one of the most striking metaphysical declarations, the poet writes:

“Love, solitude, shade of fatality… Love projects her impulse onto truth… This faith liberates us from the pure disaster of time.”

Here, love is not merely an experience but a metaphysical act: it projects truth, it liberates from time, it creates the conditions of existence. The poems often treat love as a cosmic law, akin to gravity or entropy, but more intimate and more devastating.

2. The Body as Revelation and Rupture

The erotic dimension of Stanzas of Love is not ornamental; it is structural. The body is the site where metaphysical truths erupt. Neagoe’s eroticism is not sensual but visionary—an erotic mysticism. The body is a threshold between worlds, a portal through which the divine and the monstrous pass.

Consider the raw, almost shocking corporeality of:

“Your thin, black silk dress was driving me crazy… I slipped my hand between your thighs. ‘Mama, I am in heaven,’ I exclaimed.”

This is not eroticism for pleasure; it is eroticism as revelation, as vertigo, as metaphysical rupture. The body becomes a site of transcendence, a place where heaven and earth collide.

Even suffering becomes eroticized, not in a pornographic sense but in a metaphysical one:

“Her arms coiled around your neck— / an asphyxia the gentlest of them all.”

Love suffocates, but the suffocation is a form of grace.

3. The Apocalypse of Feeling: Love as Catastrophe

Throughout the book, love is depicted as a force that destroys as much as it creates. It is catastrophic, volcanic, apocalyptic. The poems are filled with eruptions, flames, storms, cosmic collisions. Love is not gentle; it is seismic.

One of the most powerful lines in the entire manuscript declares:

“The entire world quakes / we love each other… Our love must deepen wounds, / even cause them.”

Love is a wound, a danger, a force that destabilizes reality. It is not a refuge but a trial. The lovers are not protected by love; they are exposed by it, stripped of illusions, thrown into the abyss of being.

This catastrophic dimension is present even in moments of tenderness. The poet often describes love as a “fugue,” a “pulsation,” a “vortex,” a “subatomic event.” The language of physics and cosmology merges with the language of desire.

4. The Metaphysical Landscape: Nature as a Mirror of Inner Turmoil

Neagoe’s imagery is vast, elemental, and often violent. Mountains, deserts, storms, meteors, volcanoes, oceans, forests—they are not settings but metaphysical mirrors. Nature in Stanzas of Love is not passive; it participates in the drama of love.

For example:

“The winds roar on the mountains / among the blossoming willows. / What does our silence sing, my love?”

Silence itself becomes a cosmic event.

Or this extraordinary fusion of cosmic and intimate:

“A subatomic event catches us / in a vortex… our mouths interlock and merge.”

The lovers are not merely bodies—they are particles, energies, cosmic vibrations.

5. The Tragic Dimension: Love and Death as Twins

Death is omnipresent in the book—not as an ending but as a twin of love. The poems repeatedly suggest that love and death are inseparable, that one cannot be understood without the other.

The poet writes:

“My love, death is about to erupt.”

And elsewhere:

“In a short life, my little heart, / you only have time to manage / your longing for death.”

Death is not feared; it is contemplated, embraced, even desired. It is the horizon against which love becomes meaningful. The lovers move toward death not in despair but in revelation.

6. The Feminine Principle: Woman as Cosmos, Abyss, Oracle

The woman in Stanzas of Love is not a character; she is a metaphysical principle. She is nature, cosmos, abyss, oracle, demon, goddess, child, queen. She is constantly shifting, metamorphosing, revealing new dimensions of being.

Sometimes she is tender:

“The ladylove’s voice / lights the sun at dawn.”

Sometimes she is terrifying:

“She is now Circe of the high waters… she whistles all the metaphysical arias.”

Sometimes she is divine:

“Night-blooming jasmine, / all eternity is your great flower.”

She is never merely human; she is always more-than-human.

7. The Poetic Form: A Continuous Fugue

The structure of the book is not linear but musical. The poems behave like movements in a symphony or variations in a fugue. Themes recur, transform, dissolve, reappear. The book is not meant to be read as a sequence but as a continuous hovering—exactly as one poem names it:

“Every time your name comes to my mind… I find you among broken meditations / in the vaporous nimbus of Melancholy.”

This “broken meditation” is the book’s form: fragmented, ecstatic, recursive, immersive.

Conclusion: A Monument of Metaphysical Eroticism

Stanzas of Love is a monumental work of metaphysical eroticism, one of the most intense and visionary poetry manuscripts in contemporary Romanian literature. It stands in the lineage of poets like Trakl, Rilke, Blaga, and Arghezi, yet it is unmistakably its own voice—raw, cosmic, ecstatic, tragic, and incandescent.

It is a book in which love becomes ontology, eroticism becomes revelation, suffering becomes transcendence, and the world becomes a trembling stage for the drama of being.

It is not a book one reads; it is a book one undergoes.

THE BOOK "STANZAS OF LOVE" IS PUBLISHED

 The book STANZAS OF LOVE is published and available on Amazon.com as an e-book and as a paperback. The price of an e-book is only 0.99 dollars. To order it please follow this link to Amazon.com https://a.co/d/0e108dXZ

A NEW DRAWING BY LIVIU NEAGOE IS FOR SALE

 

This drawing by Liviu Neagoe is for sale. Who wants to buy it, please email me at vladneagoe52@gmail.com

THE SHITTY PIECES OF SHIT

 The shitty pieces of shit 
have locked Moldo-Vlach literature
in a toilet at the back of the yard
put a padlock on it, hooked the key 
to their belt and got lost in Palestine, 

in the black salt of Sodom.

WAR

 

You tell me, disillusioned friend,
that war occurs unexpectedly
in a place of dance
which the dance exhausts
and war always occurs
to be the last one, only
for its own constipation.
But always nothing is worse
than the dead who remain
outside of humans
when madness is no longer cured.

ANALYSIS OF A LOVE POEM BY VLAD NEAGOE

 

***
Come, my love, today
let us copulate like snails
on the wet branch
of a blossoming cherry tree
we shall not know the fall;
but without makeup, the crust
will soften us into the noosphere,
there we will populate the footprints
of our epiphanies, of our famines.

The core of this poem is an erotic‑metaphysical metamorphosis disguised in a deceptively simple image: “let us copulate like snails.” Neagoe uses the biological strangeness of snail mating — slow, reciprocal, hermaphroditic, moist, and suspended in a kind of timeless equilibrium — as a symbolic engine to explore transcendence, vulnerability, and the dissolution of human boundaries.

🌿 1. The opening gesture: erotic invitation as metaphysical threshold

“Come, my love, today / let us copulate like snails” The verb copulate is intentionally clinical, almost jarring. Neagoe often uses abrupt, literal diction to pierce through sentimentality. But the simile “like snails” immediately shifts the tone: snail mating is slow, mutual, and involves the famous love dart — a biological act that feels mythic, ritualistic.

The erotic act becomes a ritual of slowness, moisture, and suspended gravity, a way of stepping outside human time.

🌸 2. The setting: the wet branch of a blossoming cherry tree

This is a classic Neagoe juxtaposition:

• wetness → fertility, vulnerability, the tactile world

• blossoming cherry tree → transience, Japanese mono no aware, beauty on the edge of disappearance

The lovers place themselves in a space where ephemerality and eroticism fuse. The cherry tree is a symbol of brief existence; snail mating is prolonged, almost geologic. The tension between the two creates a poetic field of paradox.

🌀 3. “we shall not know the fall” — denial of gravity, denial of mortality

Snails cling. They do not fall. To “copulate like snails” is to enter a state where gravity — and by extension, fate, decline, death — is suspended.

This is a recurring Neagoe motif: erotic union as a temporary escape from the metaphysical laws that govern human suffering.

🧩 4. “but without makeup, the crust / will soften us into the noosphere”

This is the most striking transformation in the poem.

• without makeup → without masks, without social identity

• the crust → the shell, the hardened exterior of the self

• soften us → dissolution of ego boundaries

• into the noosphere → Teilhard de Chardin’s concept: the sphere of collective human consciousness

The erotic act becomes a portal into a higher cognitive realm, where individuality dissolves into shared mind. This aligns with Neagoe’s broader metaphysical project: eroticism as a form of clairvoyance, a breach in the membrane of ordinary perception.

🔥 5. “there we will populate the footprints / of our epiphanies, of our famines.”

This is quintessential Neagoe: pairing illumination (“epiphanies”) with deprivation (“famines”).

• populate the footprints → inhabit the traces of our own revelations and sufferings

• epiphanies → moments of metaphysical insight

• famines → existential hunger, emotional scarcity, historical trauma

The lovers do not escape their human condition; instead, they repopulate it from a higher vantage point. Their union allows them to revisit their own spiritual history — both the luminous and the desolate — and give it new life.

This mirrors Neagoe’s recurring theme: love as cataclysm, where erotic experience becomes a way of confronting and reorganizing the self’s deepest wounds.

🎼 6. Overall structure: from body → nature → metaphysics → history of the self

The poem moves through four layers:

1. Physical erotic invitation

2. Natural setting that frames the act in transience

3. Metaphysical ascent into the noosphere

4. Return to the human condition, now transformed

This spiral structure is characteristic of Neagoe’s “cosmognia” — his tendency to move from the intimate to the cosmic and back again.

⭐ Interpretive synthesis

The poem is not about sex; it is about metamorphosis through intimacy. To “copulate like snails” is to:

• abandon speed

• abandon ego

• abandon gravity

• abandon human masks

• enter a shared consciousness

• revisit one’s own epiphanies and wounds from a place of unity

It is a ritual of softening, a temporary suspension of the world’s violence, a way of inhabiting the metaphysical realm through the most vulnerable form of physical contact.

REFLECTION

 I, Vlad Neagoe, am the only poet in Moldo-Wallachia. The rest are mere troublemakers. M. Eminovici is pathetic.

ON THIS EARTH PACKED WITH CANNIBALS

 On this earth packed with cannibals
one stays far underneath, the table
at which they sat has cracked, 

in the glasses have remained the eyes 

needed to kill, nothing moves the killers, 

they swallow all that awaits our death
and all that remains foreign, 

they lead us to death to the new
resurrection, the joy of living shakes me
like thunder – I hear the golden voice 

of the aurora who does not let her mystery escape.

Step into the beautifully raw, melancholic world of The Load Of Despondency

 Are you tired of superficial answers to life's heaviest questions?

Step into the beautifully raw, melancholic world of The Load Of Despondency, the gripping new poetry collection by Vlad Neagoe.

This isn't a book of comforting clichés. It is a fearless exploration of the human shadow—an intimate journey through grief, isolation, and the quiet weight we carry when the world grows too loud. Neagoe’s sharp, evocative verses give a powerful voice to the unspoken aches of modern existence, transforming personal despair into universal art.

Why readers are turning these pages:

• Unfiltered Emotion: Verses that capture the exact anatomy of heartbreak and existential longing.
• Haunting Imagery: Vivid, atmospheric poetry that lingers in your mind long after you close the cover.
• A Companion in the Dark: A deeply comforting reminder that you are never truly alone in your quietest struggles.

Perfect for fans of introspective, contemporary literature and anyone who finds solace in the deeper, darker corners of written art.

Find your solace in the shadows.

🛒 Get your copy of The Load Of Despondency today on Amazon and select bookstores.

---

SIBERIA, GIGANTIC LACHRYMATORY

 Siberia, gigantic lachrymatory 
gigantic ossuary
of a starved age
dreams of stretching out
all the way to the beginning
of some enchanting years
upon the soil of Europe
over our sarcophagi
so that she find a drop 
of diaphanous time
a presence without reverse,
so that she put an end
to the dialogue of one —,
her lips shrivelled from frost
and thirst upon a red spot.

THE CHEAP GIGS OF THE ROMANIAN WRITERS

 The cheap gigs of the Romanian writers
– they write exclusively trashy shows –
stink strongly of shit.
From so much pestilence
the perfidious readers flee
and hide underground.

COME TO US, JESUS CHRIST

 Come to us, Jesus Christ,
we who are faltering with wickedness
and hatred, break our bones so we may see
with our own eyes how we can weep,
perhaps we will be transfigured
in a dream, in angular years like approaching
rocks. Come, heal our bread,
our greed. Are we destined to be
only beginnings of chimpanzees?

THE SYSTEM

 In Moldovlahia the system (Providence)
has completed the process of zombification
each individual carries the providential plague
yet always enveloped in his own shroud
he carries back all the accumulated evil
like in the binary system 0 1 negative positive,
the officials protected as if in a bowl of unbreakable
glass study the roads to the grave,
armed with a GPS. If these people disappear
from history it is nothing. The system 
is one and the same with a slaughterhouse. 
Providence suggests that this is man's fatum.

REFLECTION (Cioran's solution...)

 At Emil Cioran's solution to the existence — that it would be advisable to resolve it through suicide, and the sooner the better — the Romanians wrinkled up their noses saying, "If they want this, let the gypsies and other foreigners do it. We don't commit suicide for the sake of an opinion.” 

REFLECTION (Nietzsche's idea...)

 Friedrich Nietzsche’s idea of will and power, issued by a weak-minded cripple, holds true only until the possessor of that will catches a cold or some more serious illness. What the hell are you supposed to do with your will then?

THE RACES

 The races, a noise lost 
behind some obscure doors
the races shove shit and atomic
bombs into each other’s
mouths and kiss on the shore
of fatigue, a seashell. The races
do not forgive, they refine the sand
the hatred of this mind-blowing love
the races appeal to reason
and never on their knees
do they kiss each other's penises. 
The concrete hears them 
with their emaciated gods.