by Axilea MU
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Rated "G" 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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(do you still...)
I could no longer feel you, you were
not really here, but lost in the sea of a gaping wound
swimming or fighting, white wave faster than you
your pale mortal presence almost swallowed, swallowed
not really here and barely afloat, the pearly froth
in your open mouth, down your throat, desperate cough
eyes closed and arms tense: you were lost at sea --
spear in your chest, overwhelmed beyond panic
gasping, cramping, your cry unheard,
heart struck by liquid lightening
you disappeared in the white, white waves
then two …
I swam to you
the sky scrolled above
some clouds pregnant with rain
just rug doll limbs and livid lips
when wrinkled, you held my arm
rhythm frenetic, learning to breathe again--
your cold back resting on the warm calm sand
as the first heavy raindrops
left craters on the strand --
Today, I wonder,
- do you still play hope?-
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|Reviewed by Chip Bergeron
|Sounds like somewhere I've been recently....very desolate...
|Reviewed by Alan Abrams
|Reviewed by Morgan Merriweather
|this sounds life altering. A sudden rush into a moment. Well done. ~ Morgan|
|Reviewed by Christine Tsen
|I marvel at your depth, your tone, such expression of heartbreak in this moving poem!
|Reviewed by D. Vegas
|Axilea, Another profound poem filled with metaphors...
|Reviewed by Kate Burnside
|You take us right there, Axilea, the imagery is so acute and the atmosphere you conjure so gripping. But I find this immensely disturbing: "play" hope? It's almost a psychotic game which takes my own breath away... as if you're being toyed with in an emotional ploy. Perhaps it rings too close to home, somehow. An unhealthy emotional dependency can be deeply wounding and sapping of personal strength. Fabulous sustained metaphor here that lives and breathes its message. xx|
|Reviewed by RWE SAYS BYE
|*as the first heavy raindrops
left craters on the strand* is such compelling imagery, just one
of many... this poem is rife with resonant, raw images and ideas... pregnant with picturesque persuasion... i might have gone with "-do you still breath hope?" at the end... but "play" is also a fisherman's term and fits nicely with your earlier image of the spear... and gives a nice sense of not being entirely serious with this fragile quality, this essential element, this "hope".... regardless, Axilea, I hear Time's winged chariot rolling along at the back of this anguished poem... a very voluble read.
Be well and at peace with all you meet.
|Reviewed by Patrick Granfors
|Wounds heal in a healing environment. Sometimes a rescue instills the only hope. Patrick|
|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|Your verses "speak" of a life-changing experience; you provide much to reflect upon in this poem, Axilea. Thank you. Love and best wishes to you,
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|I am filled with mystery. On one hand drowning is a metaphor for many conditions in life where a person can be brought back through counseling, love, whatever. On the other hand, the spear also is metaphor for either being pierced by love or having a heart ache of some kind. Finally, there may be some virtual game out there called “hope” if you have played. Mysteries abound in this poem.
|Reviewed by Sandy Hoynacki (Reader)
|Absolutely stunning write with images that form a scene of such intensiveness...|
|Reviewed by Amber Moonstone
|Taken literally, this is a very frightening piece of reality, taken poetically, I felt lost like the person, drowning in one's own despair, struggling to be free of baggage and pain...powerful words here my friend, you have penned one intensely written poem! Your descriptive narratives are stunning.
Much peace, love and light,
|Reviewed by Charlie
|There is something so Michael Angelo in this write--so white--so marble-cold, and yet so stunning and angelic at the same time... swathed in rigid, stone bedclothes with liquid lines, immovable, and yet so very moving. There is something very religious about it--it's not so much in the image, as it is in the atmosphere--the wonder and the hope for hope.
"Craters on the strand"--now that's one powerful line! Strand is a very laden word, so many meanings, all of which are applicable here. And again, there's the image of the freezing sea, the intense chilliness, the ice-dagger of doubt, and the element of drowning that pervaid your last few poems posted here on AD. But this time, there is saving involved-- warm sand, breath, and arm-holding.
I say, let the rain make its craters. And with your face turned upwards towards heaven, open your mouth, and let the Hope of all Nations pour down Hope into your soul. May you become pregnant with it. May it fill you and burst from your eyes and lips and ink many times over. I hope that for you. --Charlie
|Reviewed by Christine Alwin
|Intense write, had me holding my breath, there is an underlying softness beneath this tragic write...excellent Axilea!|
|Reviewed by jude forese
|i remember experiencing such a scenario which you have marvelously penned here ... luv the quality of the imagery ... such an experience should always fill a person with hope ...|
|Reviewed by Clarence Prince
|"Hope", a powerful piece of work, Axilea! Even so, the answer is yes! In all things, I am very hopeful, even against hope one can still look for hope. Keep the Faith!|
|Reviewed by Terry Rizzuti
|Great imagery. Took me back to the time I almost drowned off the coast of Puerto Rico and was saved by a guy I barely knew. Pretty scary stuff. The line "your cry unheard" reminded me of me mouthing the word "help" softly because I was embarrassed that I was drowning.|
|Reviewed by dan Rosenhagen
|A very powerful experience Axilea.
Love is the darkness as well as the light.
Hope is a dream of love, and love is a dream of life.
peace and love
|Reviewed by Erin Kelly-Moen
|Oh, wow, this is a magnificent piece, Axilea! Any which way it leads a reader, and its word-voice is savvy and succinct, it comes back to the same meaning/feeling. Your last line kills me, I think hope is gone.
Erin Elizabth Kelly-Moen
|Reviewed by JMS Bell
|SINCE THE WORD OF GOD IS TRUE AND IT SAYS, '...WHEN WE ARE WEAK, THEN 'HE' IS STRONG...' SO THEN...'HOPE' IS, INDEED, IN ITS FINEST HOUR WHEN ONE IS EXPERIENCING THEIR VERY WORSE HOUR. TOTAL SURRENDER TO GOD IS NOT EASY...BUT IT IS THE BEST WAY. THANKS FOR SHARING THIS UNIQUE WORK. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS|