|Reviewed by Odin Roark
|Obvious to me is the poets desire to lift the reader from the obvious perception of all that is deemed worthy of caution is not paranoia. There is an invitation here to explore the liquidity and ethereal nature of perception, i.e., most is not what it seems to be no matter how fastidiously we try to analyze. Sadly, far too many people never seem to venture beyond the obvious.|
|Reviewed by Diana Legun (Reader)
|This writing is inexplicably brimming with substance. "Dig fingers into the stuff of life" kind of substance. And, as I see it, painted a shade of frozen, with spashes of red and marked with beautifully handwritten words that ache of despair. ~~ Diana|
|Reviewed by dan Rosenhagen
|I love your discriptivness in the situations and delemas, and the surreal spiral of this lost and lonley tempest. I have seen this, only in overdoses of meds, where one can be in this hell.
Peace and Love to you
|Reviewed by Chip Bergeron
|Where did you know my mother from???|
|Reviewed by Mary Ann Biddinger
|Unique play of verses.
Written brilliantly Alexia.
Lady Mary Ann
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|Not someone to honor on Mother's Day. I'm not sure, but are we looking at a turnkey child?
|Reviewed by D. Vaineo
|Axilea, I think you are letting us come to our own conclusion
on this one...Well done!
|Reviewed by Christine Tsen
|A wondrous piece of atmospheric intensity and palpable expressions!|
|Reviewed by Felix Perry
|Nicely done and presented...
|Reviewed by Patrick Granfors
|Your imagination continues to soar! You are alive and well with an intruiging, calculating style. Patrick|
|Reviewed by Christine Alwin
|Very deep and meaningful that only the writer can fully understand, great work~
|Reviewed by Charlie
|Born of Tongue and Invention, she puts her hands to paper, and bleeds...
I think how appropriate is the idiom, "mother tongue", and realize anew just how nurturing words can be. What a comfort and companionship they must have been--your friends, your playthings, and even a nurturing presence.
So, as I've been preoccupied with genealogy lately, I've done some research on your heritage, and am pleased to tell you that you come from a very noble and mighty line-- down from the lineage of the great Pen, who was mightier than The Sword (with a capitol T)who was his brother. Both of them were born of Earth and Time, our first common ancestors. Pen has a grand posterity, including, but not limited to Necessity, Intelligence, Peace, Harmony, Forbearance, Ship (who was kind of crazy herself, but brought us a whole host of wonderful children, like Friend and Wor and Fellow...(and the ignominious Hard)...), but most prominant among your ancestors is the famous Creativity.
With a heritage like that, you can hold your head up high knowing whose blood runs through your veins. And unlike your distant cousins, when you spill it, you'll be spreading humanity, not halving it. :0) --Charlie
|Reviewed by jude forese
|a rather intense poetic transfusion reflecting upon the mind's bloody landscape, leaving shadowy tracks in the depths of its wilderness to reaffirm its presence ...|
|Reviewed by Alan Abrams
|a terrifying journey through a few sparse stanzas...paranoia personified: a mother figure?
its resolution: poetry as therapy...which put me in mind of another coping mechanism as described by Tim Kreider, who takes terrifying journeys through the streets of New York...
|Reviewed by John Flanagan
|in a, for me, rather disturbing state of
uncertainty and fear with an unseen control
or controller; i like how you broaden it from
armchair to throne or tombstone, it becomes
universal and all the more worrying
and "I sit on cold marble floor" is literally
highly atmospheric and very special, Axilea
|Reviewed by Jon Willey
|paranoia, friend or foe? - cured in the streams of our blood lines from primordial ancestry - does it exist in spite of us or to serve as a messenger? - we coexist with ignominy and so serve to leave notice that we were - penned lines servile relics we employ, deploy as self evidence of a measure of value - Axilea, this place is known to all, though we object profusely - an exercise that leaves the reader analyzing motivation and discretion - I wish you love and peace my dear friend - Jon Michael|
|Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
|Paranoia is alive and thriving within the hearts and thoughts of many of us. It has destroyed more happy relationships that probably anything else. And it is a difficult monster to control, much less defeat. Enjoyed this.|