Interview with a Poet's Soul Brother

And now I feel full of power to show their thinking, their way of seeing things, to discover the heart of this beautiful character enormous talent. His voice is the voice of many others who have transcended the barriers through eternity not time to enter the world of fantasy. I appreciate the presence of non-presence of this subject that: "in the background knows that is just a tool, a filter through which come the things they want and need human narrated in the atmosphere.? Winston takes us into the dream world of Schuaima, abounding wealth of poetry woven masterfully crafted from a mental state of perpetual magic. It makes transit Aniquirona transcendental philosophy, moved from knowledge emerged from all original sources, offering an ancient knowledge which highlights the power of poetry, death, nature of the feminine. The poet transports us from our reality into the fascinating adventure of knowing the universe created by the substance that dwells in your body. Entered into the powerful essence of Winston Morales Chavarro and let us transport their ink by the majesty of those worlds. John Q.: Who is this entity or being or whatever you call that inhabits the body of a man named Winston Morales Chavarro ?

Winston: Winston Chavarro Morales is a compound subject of several essences. Stands, yes, two superior forces that define it as substance and as creation. Aniquirona his feminine side, and Alexander de Brucco, the male part. Because gender is everywhere, everything has its masculine and feminine principles, and Alexander Brucco Aniquirona strike a balance, an absolute correspondence. In recognition of these forces that come with Winston has always, from the childhood of this man, has developed a script that somehow describes the world in which the supraphysical put these presences. Schuaima is the kingdom dream (if you can call it that) of Aniquirona and Brucco Alexander is the browser, the traveler, the traveler, the hermit. In his humble view, it sometimes feels a writer, sometimes believed to be the man who draws a line when in the background knows that is just a tool, a filter through which come the things they want and need human narrated in the atmosphere. John Q: What is the strongest memory from your childhood? Tell me a little about it. Whatever you want. Winston: My childhood is not over yet. Adults hate that stage of life, he complained of the immaturity and stupidity flying children.

I do not understand why the ages, the seven ages of man. For me there is a perpetual, perennial am all ages and all times, so all the spaces. I have an image that recurs. Perhaps 34 soles terrestrial ago, I lived with my parents in a two-story house. We inhabited the second. Dad and Mom were first married. My brother was not born yet, so I gather I was not more than six. I dozed in the middle of the two (any child at that age sets erotic destroys their parents). Beside the bed, lay a potty.

From that moment, I've been pierced by the esoteric, magic, the occult. Since I use to read the writing (the human code that tries to represent the world) I've eaten all kinds of texts, books, anthologies that I speak of those great men possessed, initiated and illuminated. I think one of them, I'm just an apprentice of words, a man who knows his limitations he has not yet renounced the tumult of the world. John P.: When you first arrive poetry into your life and you realize that your way was the lyrics? Winston: I was a child of separated parents. However, my father was a wildly comic reader and comics. Every day he came home with seven or eight booklets, among which was Kaliman, Arandú, El Santo, Memin, Tears and laughter, Condorito. Magazines appeared at our home on Monday, and I was reading on Wednesday. This was perhaps the only heredity material I received from my father. When he left, the magazines stayed home with us. There was my encounter with poetry. There my encounter with writing. The poetry I speak from their sounds, their concomitants secret.

Since that morning, it was impossible out of my life. John P.: Is the mind of a true poet works on another level of consciousness? How do you perceive the reality around you? Does the word is an impediment to connect to the real that you believe is the truth? Is there a truth? Winston: This question is quite complex. Reality is but a representation of me. As I am on the inside, as I perceive things, so my reality. Sometimes, sometimes, a little troubled. But only a few times. I tried to be happy, live in correspondence and in balance. Language is an approximation to reality, an interpretation of the world. But language is cool, has become mechanical, has lost its mystery, its essence, its quintessence. Now, I know not what strange reason, I believe more in silence, or at least sought to harmonize in silence, to understand their maps, their ways. That is the truth, that incomprehensible, incomprehensible, from the eyes of man. John P.: Do you tell your first love? Do you remember that girl's face? Winston: The face of love is invisible to the eyes of the poet.

The poet intuits just what is on it. My first time in love, the love that appears, was through a dream experience. Aniquirona was the appearance of a woman I dictated verses and which was not seen. I could never see his face. I say could because I do not see for years, not even suspect. That woman dream-if not more real than this writer, had a face, but I could never see your face, your face. Ever saw her with a charm and she melted into the wood, with a wooden table. Were one. I can almost see it in its entirety, was a native appearance. I think this is love, love that cultural reasoning stands on the manner of Plato. Everything else is caprice, passion, desire. And stating that I have felt many times. I've felt and I have enjoyed, lived, drunk. I have drunk of his harvest. And I've seen the light many times. I've played. I think all women are at one. When you kiss, caress, love and has a single-no matter how beautiful the least, according to the Western concept of beauty, the love is as a genre all.

When one offends, insults, shame, will be for todas.No is necessary-that I've found-that the mouths are struggling to transmute.

She is dynamic, mutable. Today is not yesterday's, that of today is not tomorrow: The female is everywhere and as a force, such as energy, as a download, live in constant rotation, translation by a shaft that will never be the same: This woman I love, and I know maybe, maybe retain every night, is another. That illusion of Don Juan was really looking for women and the feminine-is adorned with pain and impotence. That energy will always be in our hands when one is at our mercy. Man has the age of the woman who caresses, someone would say. I venture to something else: the man has the age of all women. John P.: If you had a political or religious leader in front of you What would you say? Winston: No, they do not listen, and, worse, not understand. The ego of a politician makes "wise?. And do you give a politician is a nonsense. A religious leader, which is almost the same, do not receive tips, imparts. John P.: Leave a message if you want, for all those human beings who read your words in our Latin American Cultural Magazine The profile of the city of Nuremberg, Germany.

Winston: Brother, the tips are given by psychiatrists, and I am far from parecérmeles. John Q.: What is an interview? Winston: An interview serves multiple functions. To lie, to speculate, to show, to throw. An interview is a mirror: it reflects real things and monstrous. It reflects my vanity, my "superiority?, But also reflects my nakedness, my inner fiber. And it is very likely that nudity does not like a lot, as you may like my pride and accept it as a prologue, as absolute truth. An interview is dangerous as a knife. But the mirrors are often helpful. John Q.: Tell me the truth poet. Is this a questionnaire was rigid, absurd and flight? Winston: In a long flight. The interviews are never rigid, rigid are the answers, the soul of the respondent.

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