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Axilea MU

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Choral Heart
by Axilea MU
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Axilea MU
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           >> View all 273

to Charlie

Letters from an old friend
Came (a long way) knocking               at my core
And I think that we were sitting at a desk
With a typewriter and coffee, slightly burnt.
It was not so cold outside as the rays of the evening sun
Could even warm our hands and come knocking
At the core                       of a shared moment in the 1950’s.
Or… I think that we were sitting, hands busy
With a piece of embroidery,

telling stories learned as little girls,
Adding details from the needlework of our imagination,
In another century, but not long ago.
Emails from a dear friend
Took me to that moment, rare,
When children were safely playing
And outside there was a war,
Or something we didn’t believe in.
But we could laugh and make up stories
Quickly scribbled in a notebook…
So many years ago,
When time did not count
And the memory of creativity
Came knocking               at the core
                         (le coeur)
And time was left in a drawer,
Forgotten there for a while
With all the noisy illusions
And heroic disillusions
And…we left the fame and glory at the periphery,
While creation stood, right in the middle
And we could write         to the core
Of free, free friend          ship.



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Reviewed by Regis Auffray 10/23/2008
True friendship is indeed a treasure. Thank you for sharing your gift, Axilea. Love and best wishes to you,

Reviewed by William Bonilla 10/20/2008
A well Penned piece
Thanks for sharing
Love & peasce be with you

Reviewed by Samuel Stone 10/20/2008
Simple...yet perfect... enjoyed..
Best Wishes..
Reviewed by jude forese 10/19/2008
naturally flowing syntax and juxtaposition echoing the framework of friendship and its will to survive the conditions of its surroundings ...
Reviewed by Gianetta Ellis 10/19/2008
There is an assertiveness to your style and a deeply moving creativity. It seems that there is an ease to your process, which is often just as intriguing as your end result.
Reviewed by Kate Burnside 10/19/2008
Brilliant, Brilliant... and, for me, at the core of this are these knockout lines:

When children were safely playing
And outside there was a war,
Or something we didnít believe in.

These words say it all for me, but, as per u, the whole poem has such gestalt and confidence. You are SUCH a strong writer, Axilea. Love the addition of the parenthesised le coeur, which shows such ease and control. Just great stuff. TY Kate xx

Reviewed by Approximately Naive 10/19/2008
In our increasing dumbed down world of entertainment, I prefer to retreat to my inner museum of fond recollections that stem from the 1950s. Within the four walls of nostalgia, I freely browse the aisles of events and familiar landmarks, cerebrally thumbing and pondering my way through the catalogues of former friendships that were endemic of this personal history. Would that I were able to haunt such memories - indeed, would that I were pleasantly haunted by their innate spirits.
'In another century'? In another world.

Reviewed by Dawn Anderson 10/19/2008
Such poignant writing, Axilea.
Reviewed by David Hightower 10/18/2008
Axilea - Touching poem of a heartfelt long-distance relationship.Especially liked:
OrÖ I think that we were sitting, hands busy
With a piece of embroidery,
telling stories learned as little girls,
Adding details from the needlework of our imagination,

and the insertion of "le coeuer"

and the way you separated "friendship" into "friend ship" making an abstract into a concrete image. Excellent as always. - David
Reviewed by Ahna C 10/17/2008
I love this...My favorite line is "and time was left in a drawer", and "outside there was a war". It depicts so well the innocence and imagination of youth how their heart and mind stand through even the wars raging on their doorsteps...beautiful, and perfectly put.
Reviewed by John Flanagan 10/17/2008
this is rich fabric "a piece of embroidery" full of poignant relevant memories and core values ...the core (le coeur) beautifully conceived.
Reviewed by Elizabeth Price 10/17/2008
Wow. Love the way this poem is written with the slipping in and out of memories and times that were. excellent. Liz
Reviewed by Felix Perry 10/17/2008
Love the thought process in this sort of side slipping through time and memories...nice.

Reviewed by Gene Williamson 10/17/2008
Love the concept, Axilea...and the writing: it doesn't get much
better than this:

I think that we were sitting, hands busy
With a piece of embroidery,
telling stories learned as little girls,
Adding details from the needlework of our imagination...

One for the Library.

Reviewed by Liana Margiva 10/17/2008
Very NICE!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
Reviewed by Sheila Roy 10/17/2008
This is fantastic. I love the way you play with the words, all the while creating an extensive feel of nostalgia. You grasp that feeling of memories coming back - triggered by something else.
Reviewed by Charlie 10/16/2008
Fabulous spacial poem, Axilea. That time in a drawer was a brilliant line-- that and the whole mind-skipping atmosphere felt herein. (le coeur) silouetting the absent visual of knocking was a powerful move, though I cannot figure out why... I'll work on that.

I once heard a great orator speak on "ships"... worship, fellowship, friendship and others. He spoke of the antisipation we have, waiting for our "ships to come in", and of how friendship is just as antisipated, and sometimes longed for. This poem is yet another evidence of the power that one ship holds--to tow us back a century (but not long ago) to visit with the mind memories of a such a ship's captain.

Loved the poem and the whole atmosphere. I would that there were more friendships in our oceans-- more worshipping-- and less war-shipping. --Charlie
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 10/16/2008
Love how you did this, Axilea; brava!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
Reviewed by Mary Lacey, Desertrat 10/16/2008

Nicely written and very refreshing.

Reviewed by Sankar Sukumaran 10/16/2008
Axiela, you are a gifted poet.
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