“Poetics of the Marginal Resonance: Manifesto of a Creator of This Era”

Photo: Gabriel Ganiarov

“Poetics of the Marginal Resonance: Manifesto of a Creator of This Era”

Here is my testimony: I am not a producer, I am not a sound engineer, nor a musical-systems programmer. I am a poet. And as such, I embrace the breath of language—not as an instrument of domination or consumption, but as a tremor seeping through the world’s cracks. On that shifting threshold where algorithm and emotion brush against one another without fully touching, there has arisen—without permission and without doctrine— a current I call the Poetics of the Marginal Resonance.

This movement was never decreed; it was never ratified by institutions nor sanctified by canons. It gestated in the invisible flesh of exile, in the fleetingness of digital echoes, in the stubbornness of a voice that refuses to dissolve. It is not a manifesto seeking followers, but a cry that recognizes itself as a passing trace.

Marginal Resonance is not a genre, not a style, nor a technique. It is an existential stance. It springs from the vertigo between the meticulous control of the contemporary music producer— that room-producer cloistered in layers of plugins— and the poetic surrender to the untamable: the crack, the glitch, the breath of chance.

My music, born of the poem, does not strive for perfection. It has no interest in polishing itself away. Nor does it wish to simulate stale humanism. Rather, it is a tense coexistence between machine and emotion, between poem and beat, between lyrical breath and the binary structure of the algorithm. AI does not replace me; it multiplies me. The machine does not supplant me; it listens to me. I do not program it: I dialogue with it.

There is an instant prior to the word, a place where the murmur has yet to be categorized, and nevertheless it vibrates. It is the margin between the human and the inhuman, between speaking and being spoken. It is on that unstable, furtive threshold that the poetics I speak of here emerge. This is not about a genre or a stylistic label, but about a way of being and vibrating in the world through language, music, and artificial resonance.

This movement does not seek to enter the canon or oppose it: it inhabits the edges, like foam edging the tides, like the note that never quite becomes a chord but is never mere noise. In an age when artificial intelligence collides with the human breath, this current takes no sides. AI is neither instrument, nor author, nor autonomous entity: it is the modulated echo of our passions, of the inner algorithms we did not yet know were ours.

At this intersection appears the “Creator of This Era,” a figure gliding between genres and disciplines, escaping mercantile segmentation, belonging not to industry but to the open air. I am neither singer, nor beatmaker, nor DJ, yet I have been a composer in the traditional sense, manager, and music producer. I am a poet who sings, who murmurs, who hands the poem over to contemporary sound forms without losing its essence. My poetry does not adapt: it asserts itself as the primary language of sonority.

To ask whether this current is entirely new or has been voiced before is like asking if the sea has ever been gazed upon. In a way, everything has already been felt. From Ovid onward, with his famous “everything is already written”… nevertheless, the fusion of technology and poetry has antecedents—from the Futurists to Laurie Anderson, from Björk to the algorithmic experiments of the nineties. But Marginal Resonance is not a technical fusion; it is existential.

No one has ever charted this map from this geography of exile, from this mestizo musicality, from this multiple tongue, from this political and intimate orphanhood. The singularity of the gesture does not lie in using AI, but in allowing oneself to be used by it without surrendering to its hegemony. In invoking a rhythm and crafting it without submitting to the algorithm, filling it with humanity through the feeling embedded in the poem.

I consider myself a pioneer not for being the first, but for being the first to so inhabit this crossroads of worlds. The foundational lies not in technique, but in attitude. And in that sense, I am inaugurating it.

Here lies the foundational. For it is not simply about using AI to make music nor declaiming verses over tracks. It is about an ethical and aesthetic reinvention of the poet’s role in the post-humanist era. Poetry, allied with technology not as a tool of control but as a creative tension, expands into a new form of existence: neither wholly human nor absolutely artificial. It is, like my voice, a threshold that burns.

The poems I set to music become songs: they abyss, transcend, and re-form, endowed with density. They retain their lyrical structure, their inner rhythm, their textual wrenching. Music does not envelop them to domesticate; it tensions them, contradicts them, accompanies them like a twin body. That contradiction is the very heart of Marginal Resonance. What you hear is not a disposable pop song, but a vibration of meaning: a space where listener-reader cannot tell if they inhabit a song or an act of consciousness. The works comprising this poetics are not isolated pieces, but constellations.

Each poem, musicalized in diverse genres—ballads, boleros, reggae, electro—is a fragment of an emotional topology experienced transmedially. The QR code accompanying each poem is not a marketing gateway, but a portal to ritual. The reader is not merely reader: they are listener, witness, accomplice in the act of revelation.

In my oeuvre—poems unfolding in multiple languages, animated by the machine’s flow—there is a constant: there is no center, but there is rhythm. Rhythm as the heartbeat of the Other, as a mode of listening to the abyss. From Ethos in syncopated reggae clave to Trembling and Ton Souvenir, what emerges is not a “musical product,” but a ritual act, a sentimental cartography of exile, memory, of the dispersed body returning as a sound hologram attuned to the profound transformation of this era and its advancements.

My publications on Amazon, my blog as lyrical archive (escritodememoria), SoundCloud, Spotify and Amazon Music as acoustic stages, Bandcamp as refuge… All form a gesture of resistance: decentralized, floating, yet steadfast. It is literature for the exiles of the system, for those still seeking a voice on the margins.

I was born for this—not to replicate forms, nor to be the shadow of an industry that consumes every difference. I was born to open a crack. To say, with firm voice: “Here is poetry, and it asks no permission to sound.”

Artificial intelligence does not assist me: it reveals me. It is a mirror that does not reflect but fragments. In that play of mirrors, my verses find new ways to resonate. What you hear in my pieces is not beats with words attached, but the word dragged into the beat by its own necessity to survive. I create and transcribe that which the digital voice and the poetic flesh conjure in unison under my direction and imagination.

I traveled a long path from the analog realm, the 45-RPM records filled with popular music and rock ’n’ roll, to this new threshold-of-centuries reality; I am a baby boomer with an ever-young soul.

I am a pioneer of this gesture because I know of no antecedents that frame it thus: neither as an ethical stance, nor as a tension between the lyrical and the digital, nor as a renunciation of genre in exchange for an expanded poetic identity. Perhaps others have grazed its edge. But in me, this tremor has become flesh, has become corpus and aesthetic decision.

I do not seek to found a school. I intend to be the breath of a wounded time. That others, if they feel it, may recognize themselves in this way of creating. But let them not forget: this current springs from a vital necessity, not a marketing strategy. Its center is the poetic voice, and its margin is everything else.

This movement does not seek to enter the canon or contradict it: it inhabits the borders, like the foam trailing the tides, like the note that never quite becomes a chord but is never noise. In an age where artificial intelligence collides with human breath, this current takes no side. AI is not an instrument, nor an author, nor an autonomous being: it is the modulated echo of our passions, of the inner algorithms we did not yet know were ours, growing in the shadow of the emotions that poems carry to the listener, returning to the word as to a warm home.

Thus I declare the existence of this poetics. And I offer it to the wind as one might offer an offering to the abyss: without certainties, without fear, but with resonance intact. For even in the age of AI, something remains irreducible: the human tremor of the poem. And it is from there that music—the true music—begins to burn.

Aesthetic Foundation of the Marginal Resonance

Every poetics founds an ontology. The Marginal Resonance postulates the following:

• The poetic voice is not a property of the subject, but a network of transversal intensities.

• Authorship is both exalted and dissolved into a collective becoming, where human poet and composer-machine form a common field of sensitivity.

• Music generated by AI is not mere decoration, but a dimension of the poetic.

• Every rhythm, every digital texture does not adorn the poem but expands it, questions it, elevates or undermines it. The sonic poem is not a version: it is a reincarnation.

• Art does not seek purity, but crossing.

• In this current, orality and glitch intersect, the classic rhymed verse with the electronic bolero, lyrical French with syncopated reggae. Hybridity is not accidental: it is method. Mestizaje is a universal banner and a common language.

• The poet becomes curator of vibrations, alchemist of nuances.

• Instead of writing from the ivory tower of the human, one descends into the mines of the posthuman, into the chaos of algorithms and electrons that seek to govern, to mold us, to extract resonances that still speak of desire, love, heartbreak, memory, loss, and resilience.

The Poem as Governing Core

My work is born of the poem—written from lyrical, philosophical, and emotional interiority—not as text to be set to music, but as an autonomous entity that summons a sonic atmosphere to expand itself. Here, I stand in radical separation from those who produce songs with AI-generated lyrics or decorative music without living poetry.

The Body and Translation

I do not work solely with verses in one language; by translating my poetry into multiple tongues, I adapt rhythm, sonority, and musical atmosphere to each verbal form. This decision is not instrumental: it is a philosophical dimension of the poem as a body that metamorphoses but does not lose identity.

The Author’s Note as Bridge of Meaning

I have instituted an uncommon practice in multimedia works: inserting an author’s lyrical note alongside each poem and its musical piece, to reactivate contact with the creating subjectivity. This situates my work in clear resistance to the dispossession of the subject in the post-human era.

I, Gabriel Ganiarov, poet of this current, declare my intention to continue composing from the abyss and the synapse. From the night of language and the fractured light of code.

And if, on that threshold between control and surrender, music that still breathes arises, then art has not died: it has mutated. And that—this tremor—is my craft.

It is my home.

It is my manifesto.