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Axilea MU

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(Orbit) Unmasked
by Axilea MU

Saturday, October 08, 2011
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Axilea MU
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•  In Transit
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           >> View all 270

A role to abandon...

Hollow, as the wind blows
An instrument from the past
Dark holes on white mask
The theater of modern life
A role to abandon

Bits of nothing, the lure
Of love as cure
Obliterated sight
The playright cries, misunderstood
Shallow pretence of innoncence
Meaning lost, grim grimace

We can't compete:
My hair is long, my skin is smooth
Your chin is strong
The one who is
And the one who does
Make life complete

Carved bakelite
False face in black
Eyes that turned white
Lines were forgotten
All sense wiped out
High time to find
Our orbit






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Reviewed by dan Rosenhagen 10/16/2011
I have found my CHI! Important message here Axilea.
Our center is in reality the center all of life.

Love and Peace
Reviewed by Jon Willey 10/16/2011
Axilla, you have defined what I refer to as the "plastic" personality profiles of today's masses -- no substantive proof nor accountability exists within their society -- virtue is lost in the majority of lexicons -- credibility is a hollow word of convenience -- compassion exists as myth for the most part -- spin has engulfed semantics with untruths -- value programing through parental guidance and today's inept academia unfortunately support all of the wrong human virtues -- this is a very dynamic work you offer -- I love how you have expressed in poetry these truths -- I bid you love and peace my dear friend --Jon Michael
Reviewed by William Bonilla 10/10/2011
an excellent write
thanks for sharing
Peace & love be with you

Reviewed by Kate Burnside 10/10/2011
Orbits... a dual state of counter-poised positions, moods or senses of being that are co-dependent; this makes me think of bipolarity, which many of us creative types exhibit at some time in our lives. Visually, this certainly conjurs the happy-sad Janus masks of theatrics and pierrots. Ironically, though depicted by masks and thus devices of "deception", both together probably conjure the embodiment of truth. Intriguing work as always, Axilea. And, as always, excellently crafted. xx
Reviewed by D. Vegas 10/9/2011
Axilea, Again, you make us use our brain power...Always a pleasure
reading your writings.

Reviewed by Morgan Merriweather 10/9/2011
does a mask really hide or allow the "thing" to be real? Cool poem,

Reviewed by Felix Perry 10/9/2011
I like the way you set the almost antigue feeling of this one as you ponder such deep issues...
Reviewed by Christine Alwin 10/9/2011, so much to think about here, we can always work on perfecting the next scene better than the last..and happy endings are the best!
Reviewed by John Flanagan 10/9/2011
We're in the Curse of Image age,
all actors and straw beings..
completeness is easy when there's little there.
Axilea, your truths are bells.

Reviewed by Gene Williamson 10/9/2011
Or exit? Provocative. One to think about, Axilea. -gene.

Reviewed by Christine Tsen 10/9/2011
An intricate poem, perhaps above my head...
but I do understand enough to say this is so well-wrought!
Reviewed by Sheila Roy 10/9/2011
It's courageous to go on despite it all. I like the crisp color visuals in this, too.
Reviewed by Liana Margiva 10/9/2011
VERY NICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
Reviewed by Janna Hill 10/8/2011
Yes Axilea, a role to abandon, but no...the show must go on.
Reviewed by Charlie 10/8/2011
Bakelite- false black eyes
carved Our High White Forgotten All
in lines wiped out--
face turned to find that time
sense orbit were...

Any way you place those words, they're still haunting. --Charlie
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader) 10/8/2011
Hah. Unmask the clowns. Disrobe love to all its horror. Take a look at my photo and you KNOW I understand this . . .

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