Getting Rid Of Us
by Axilea MU
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Axilea MU
fading around midnight
The evanescent f(e)ather image
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- (at least she tries) -
It's freezing cold,
The bow window on the second floor was her favorite.
tastes, habits, blood type, reveries;
there was nothing she could hide.
And there we stood,
watching her every move,
knowing her every thought
spurting from her paranoid mind.
In the dry, cold garden,
she walked carrying a heavy box,
barefoot on a patch of black ice,
a ripped robe on her white skin.
We knew what she was about to do,
yet watched her secretly
as she went to the back of the garden
and wood cracked under
her unearthly feet.
It took her such a long time
to light a good fire,
and once she succeeded,
she was shivering, shaking.
In a state of shock.
All that came out
of that heavy green box,
she spread carefully,
as if feeding the hungry fire.
She stood gazing for an eternity
at the crackling bonfire,
and dancing flames.
as the foggy evening was falling,
she assembled the ashes
into the emerald box.
We kept spying on her,
aware of what she'd done,
needlessly, to us,
the part of herself she feared.
When she finally came in,
she wasn't aware of our presence.
Soon, she'll hear them again.
We were there to stay with her,
yet she was foolish enough to believe
that all that was left of us
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|Reviewed by Jerelyn Craden
|Axilea ... I have read many works on this site, and yours stands out as a voice that should be heard. Original, compelling, thought-provoking. Excellent. Excellent.|
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|This is one of those writes that is worthy of much more than a single reading. Powerfully engaging words. Thank you. Love and peace to you,
|Reviewed by Andre Bendavi ben-YEHU
An intriguing theme... "Getting Rid Of Us" allows the reader to dive deeply on the ontological oceans and reach the shores of life. Its imagery flows wisely showing its contents and message. An outstanding poetic page of art and knowledge.
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
|Reviewed by Felix Perry
|This is one hell of a write, one of your best that I have read, and it is soooo publishable. The subject, the images, the format all come together in this one so perfectly that after reading I just sat there for a few minutes afterwards savoring it. Well done Axilea
|Reviewed by Charlie
|You put us below the balcony of the local "loca." She yells out what she's eating for dinner, the color she's wearing, what she thinks of you--loud to the air like curses. Strange. Like she's trying to expell the demons within, but never can unless she burns them -- witch-like images come next. This poem is very vivid. I like the colors: green, black, emerald, gray, blue that allow us to stand and watch the display of crazy temper. I also like the topic -- something impossible to understand, no matter how hard you try, because it's simply illogical. --Charlie|
|Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner
Much depth, emotion in these lines borne of pain? Experience?? Something tells me it is: excellent.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
|Reviewed by Kathy Armijo
|How terribly sad. A ghostly reverie that weighs heavy on her psyche. It must be terrible trying to make a life out of something so unbearable.
|Reviewed by Elizabeth Price
|Madness, sheer madness. You lived through this? The part of her she feared from her paranoid mind. You too lived with mental illness and yet you stand strong and give me inspiration to carry on. Excellent. Liz|