The evanescent f(e)ather image
by Axilea MU
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
Rated "G" by the Author.
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posting again... about a bridge, my birthplace...
I was born at the birth of a bridge...
A palindrom, arms open to bridge
a meeting in the middle of nowhere:
my old dream.
A two way nonsense that makes sense
somewhere in the middle.
A mirror carefully placed
on my face
the perfect simmetry
(both) life and death
- a cemetery for both me and you - .
I was born on the other side, the other side of that mirror
you want me to carry.
A bridge reunites two sides of a coin. Though sometimes I'm an island
in spellbound isolation.
An island reunites with the sea, and from the middle of the bridge,
you can choose your nowhere.
The bridge is my tree. I sit at its roots, watch its shadow over the sea.
But when I'm tired of roots and anchors, I sail again to become an island.
A fatherless I-land, unprotected by a fatherland:
I am from everywhere.
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|Reviewed by Isabella Koldras
|Axilea, as a poet, you can evoke "things" through words and symbolism...make them mingle together and ask...is it possible to bring the past-sensible-world and the present-intelligible-act-reality-being of sustained attention...closer to your own philosophy-standing -somewhere-in-the-middle...be visible when struggling to re-adjust and share the nature of both?...yet...refrain from entering the image within an image...the iconoclastic tendencies shown in the mirror of a mirror...
Different world of a poet-the friendly host inviting readers to the life within...life's phenomenally personal twist...one must not have disdained for "better one"...or remain captive to "worse one"...but seek the rational harmony...where the difference-dissimilarity and the similarity-sameness-alikeness-ness are all significant in the world we share and respect the common relation to the father...the source of Being...of us all.
Thank you for sharing your verse.
|Reviewed by Christine Tsen
|So lovely! And wonderful to read you again!
This poem had breathtaking imagery and language and speaks to me of recovering our own divine love from within, our birthright.
|Reviewed by Liana Margiva
|EXCELLENT!!!!!!!!!!! VERY TALENTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 'a meeting in the middle of nowhere'...'...and from the middle of the bridge, you can choose your nowhere.' ------ I LOVE THIS!!!!!!!!!! So nice to see YOU, Axilea!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva|
|Reviewed by Charlie
|... And from nowhere. I like the symmetry between words--the parallelism between images. I keep thinking about that mirror, about it's being a place to bury yourself as well as a place to live. But the analogy goes even further. Life can be an illusion, but a useful one. In massage therapy, mirrors are successfully used to massage phantom limbs of amputee victims. They can fill in the gaps, so we become more than our sum total. I w as thinking, too, that water has that same quality. It ehnhqnces, if it's still. If not, it contorts an image.
I really love that you are an "I-land". I feel very much hat way too--especially father-less just now. These are visuals and ideas I want to explore more. --Charlie
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|You have written a very ethereal piece that can probably only be understood by you.
|Reviewed by Walt Hardester
|When we are born, we all cross that bridge from the ethereal to the real.
There is a story the says babies still know the secrets of the universe, and the other side. Their cooing and billing is an attempt to tell their adults what they still know. But alas, but the time they are able to talk and express concepts, they have forgotten the things they were trying to tell us.
I love this poetry.
|Reviewed by D. Vegas
|You are from everywhere with all your travels and all
the witnessing with your young life...happy to see
you posting again!
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|I am quite spell-bound by your verses, Axilea. Thank you for sharing your gift. Love and best wishes,