by Axilea MU
Wednesday, March 14, 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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are you hungry:
hanging from the tree
a drop of red, the flesh
the fruit, the all-too-real dream
between wakefulness and sleep
deep disturbing lines
peaks of electroencephalograms
you are lying in the mud
with the signature of your madness
they yell at you in anger
- from the trap, try to wake up! -
your lips are sore and bleeding
as in the dry cold air, you uncry
exhale pulmonary exhaustion
as if dragged by the arm, struggling
while gelid rain washes your face
streams of grace, strange strings
of rage within, you are facing an army
of trees so grey, the vertical bars of a cage
the grim in-between, the improbable
space, the passage of faith
the slap, the birth, the breath
and now you stand on your feet
(but) are you hungry?
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|Reviewed by Patrick Granfors
|I'm starving.......for more. Patrick|
|Reviewed by Jon Willey
|Axilea, hypnagogia is a unique experience for the human psyche. Surrealism marked with unreasonable time references create psycho-sensual experiences ranging from abject fear to erotic pleasure. Your descriptive," deep disturbing lines, peaks of electroencephalograms", cements the aura surrounding those journeys into situational joys and frustrations. I very much enjoyed this work. May peace and love be always with you my friend, Jon Michael|
|Reviewed by dan Rosenhagen
|An interesting piece Axilea, It takes me away to the corners of my imagination,
but brings me back to the reality of purpose. Your closing question is one not asked enough I think. Thanks for the mental ride. ;-)
Love and Peace
|Reviewed by Kate Burnside
|This is, as always, fascinating stuff, Axilea. The diction oscillates between the opulent classical and the coldly clinical; the real stuff of life that happens in between birth and death, between the fact and the fiction, the real and the myth. BUT ARE WE HUNGRY? A baby's heartbeat panics in the seconds before it's born and we can desire to sleep in the midst of being slapped: what we hunger for depends on where we'd rather be. And it's the inbetween, those improbably spaces of faith or fantasy that bring us there. Hamlet or omelette?! :)) xx|
|Reviewed by Asa Seeley
|closer to wake than sleep with the effects of the dream still a reality. thanks for sharing.
|Reviewed by E T Waldron
Very deeply felt! hallucinations before sleep,are troubling!Hope you find an answer, it is something I sometimes am troubled with, Well written...
|Reviewed by Sandy Hoynacki (Reader)
|Your writings are always intriguing and delightfully metaphoric. Indeed, a journey of mixed images inside the eye-soul........|
|Reviewed by Charlie
|Ending brings us full-circle to an empty question. What fills the space is the fervor of tempestuous verbage: the drop of red hanging from the tree, the electricity you feel in that huge word "electroencephalograms", and words like "madness", "trap", "bleeding", "dragged", "gelid rain", our tree turns from red to grey "bars of a cage", "the slap, the birth, the breath"... it all rushes at you (the reader), and then that question throws you for a loop... but that's just how it is. You can dream a million life-times in a second and a half it seems. And isn't it strange that so much mental energy is expended in dreaming the unreal, and the stupor of thought comes in real-time?
A good realistic sketch of the unreal dusk of wakefulness. --Charlie
|Reviewed by Morgan Merriweather
|this is great, an army of trees, vivid imagery. but, is always part of the question, the dilema. ~ Morgan|
|Reviewed by Christine Tsen
|A skillful use of abstraction and metaphor, and as always you are able to bring the reader in!
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|How to come out of a nightmare still standing. Like the twist at the end.
|Reviewed by D. Vegas
|Axilea, Yes and no...as always I enjoyed.
|Reviewed by jude forese
|Hunger depends on the lucidity of our perceptions ... the elements of wakefulness rely on the capacity to control the conditions we find ourselves within ...our appetite to consume the actual and reject the decaying apocryphal fruits of our beings will allow us to stand up and explore ... as always, enjoyed your unique imagery as well as approach ...|
|Reviewed by Mary Ann Biddinger
|Brilliant the imagery Axilea. Wonderfully penned.
Lady Mary Ann
|Reviewed by Chip Bergeron
|This is excellent. I erelate to "-from the trap, try to wake up." Being in a nightmare, knowing I'm in a nightmare, wanting so badly to wake up, tryimng so hard to wake up. No can do....the rules of the game won't let me. So I ride it out until the bitter end, and end up as you say.
|Reviewed by RWE SAYS BYE
|...when a birth is a forgetting, into what remembrance must one awake, what waking dream will one's real world take? On what vistas of a remade remake will one glut one's famished soul. And when sated, what cornucopia of riches will one have left to share with those yet to arrive at the feast.
Out of our dearth comes fulness in time
From death to rebirth, solace sublime...
And when we awake from our slumbers,
sleep shuffles off and unencumbers...
Thanks for teasing me out of thought with this short epic...
|Reviewed by Amber Moonstone
|Deeply moving poetry, Axilea, have missed you. words of a deep mind and soul!
Peace, love and light,
|Reviewed by Douglas Bentley
|Wow- what a dream!
Or should I say nightmare.
I can relate to the "signature of your madness"
Deep and mysterious - I like