Closing the gates of sterile criticism, always easier when you are originally form another country, world, culture... universe?
Ex nihilo - out of nowhere,
You found yourself
Here, there,
Then yonder.
Intrusion - how many disappointments
And doors broken in your home
By locksmiths who also lock
Their possessions,
Their heart, I wonder.
Exclusion - in a way,
You always knew
That exotic attracts
And exception repels.
That's how they treated you.
Existence (Illusion) - still you thought
You were brave
And needless
And faithful enough
To read your poem
And be understood.
(silly girl)
Excruciating - can be the pain.
Someone said you were
disoriented.
Yes, you lost up and down,
Right and left
And you are
Alone in the dark,
On the tarmac
Yet, you're supposed to take off...
See the sky?
Explanation - of course, "they" know!
You, the stranger
See the church, but it is not
The same God.
Know your home,
Not on the map.
Go to court
And find different laws,
Talk to a psychologist
Who listens to a doctrine.
How can you not
Be wrong?
(silly girl)
Excellent - is your decision
To be
Exactly who you are, poet!
An outstanding write, almost feels like a conversation with self...makes one take an honest look at self...creative, clever, and well done! Enjoyed!
Blessings,
Joyce B.
"Excellent - is your decision
To be
Exactly who you are, poet!" My favorite lines. One of the most important things in our lives, I think, is to be true to ourselves.
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
Reviewed on December 31, 2007
don't look at the tarmac when you can look at the sky...
I like this one Axilea and the way you seem to be discussing with yourself as to what it is to be a poet. Also love your new profile picture...well done.
Isn't the comfort of just knowing that one is where they are, that everything is as it should be...even when in foreign lands we still are the same from within...
I like to think that in order for 'our' survival in this world, we must first learn to march to the beat of our own drum, and you've learned that lesson well.
Axilea,
All this flying talk down below made me think of these new wing suits sky divers wear now, that you were to free fall,simliar to hand gliding.I can see you soaring with one on,check em out,you go I'll go....seriously, nice write........I get the feeling that for you even being in free fall,you would be exactly where you should be,
stan
There is a certain fear of not wanting to let feet leave tarmac: a nervous tension, as it were. Time to go solo, Pilot: you've had your lessons, you've passed with flying colors. Now: contact! Spread your wings and f l y! Excellent, really love this one. Silly poet? I think NOT.
THis is an excellent write, Axilea. My favorite part is the disorientation. I love that you don't say you're lost, but that you've lost... and you don't just say you've lost direction, but that you've "lost up and down, Right and left" -- that's some good poetics in action. It's a bit like a joy-stick, or whatever it is that pilots use to steer.
I never did understand "right and left" however. I'm a "North, south, east, west" kind of girl. They don't change on me. But there is that freckle on my left hand if I have to go by those directions.
You end with very strong lines. How can you be anything less-- or more than "Exactly who you are, poet!"?
"Exotic attracts and exception repels", another great line(s). More true than I care to admit. I am the "exception" to every rule. I wear my rebellion like a social repellant. (It works too.) --Funny though, how here among other poets, I kinda blend in... It's a cozy feeling.
So you stand there on the tarmac-- it's a sort of highway. Maybe there's a different kind of airport for poets. Maybe we hanglide instead. Maybe it's a Mountain's rim we need to stand on, our wings strapped on behind. And we wait for the proper current (that will come) and then jump... .. ...but never land. We steer by leaning, tiny suggestions of weight in different directions-- not to the right of left-- but towards a sight we want to see. Maybe we have a little motor there, under our wings, fueled by ink. We don't need right. We've got "write". And we don't need "left" because we "left" that map behind.
I'm glad I read this poem. It's very inspiring.
Take care, my friend. --Charlie
""Excruciating - can be the pain.
Someone said you were
disoriented.
Yes, you lost up and down,
Right and left
And you are
Alone in the dark,
On the tarmac
Yet, you're supposed to take off...
See the sky?""...........................
Hello Axilea,
I could really relate to this poem, Especially the stanza
noted above. It sounds like you write from deep inside your psyche.
Keep up the great writing.
Ed
So much of life is in our experiences and not what others expect us to be but being ourselves for in the end what we leave behind is what we made of it.
This is where the words "poetic license" comes to fruition in poetry. Poets have a special license to animate and be more creative in their words.
You can now fly Girl!
Exploring the impact of literary icon Flannery O'Connor's noted legacy on the cultural realities of modern-day America, the world, and a certain author.
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Blessings,
Joyce B.
To be
Exactly who you are, poet!" My favorite lines. One of the most important things in our lives, I think, is to be true to ourselves.
Fee
randy
Makes alot of sense to me. Happy New Year. Peace, Love and Blessings Always, Paul.
look at your heart and tell me it isn't so...
truly nice to read and review your work...
Love and Peace...
Art Sun...
Peace,
Dan
eyes wide open to reality and the humor
I like this!!!!! pax A
All this flying talk down below made me think of these new wing suits sky divers wear now, that you were to free fall,simliar to hand gliding.I can see you soaring with one on,check em out,you go I'll go....seriously, nice write........I get the feeling that for you even being in free fall,you would be exactly where you should be,
stan
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
I never did understand "right and left" however. I'm a "North, south, east, west" kind of girl. They don't change on me. But there is that freckle on my left hand if I have to go by those directions.
You end with very strong lines. How can you be anything less-- or more than "Exactly who you are, poet!"?
"Exotic attracts and exception repels", another great line(s). More true than I care to admit. I am the "exception" to every rule. I wear my rebellion like a social repellant. (It works too.) --Funny though, how here among other poets, I kinda blend in... It's a cozy feeling.
So you stand there on the tarmac-- it's a sort of highway. Maybe there's a different kind of airport for poets. Maybe we hanglide instead. Maybe it's a Mountain's rim we need to stand on, our wings strapped on behind. And we wait for the proper current (that will come) and then jump... .. ...but never land. We steer by leaning, tiny suggestions of weight in different directions-- not to the right of left-- but towards a sight we want to see. Maybe we have a little motor there, under our wings, fueled by ink. We don't need right. We've got "write". And we don't need "left" because we "left" that map behind.
I'm glad I read this poem. It's very inspiring.
Take care, my friend. --Charlie
Someone said you were
disoriented.
Yes, you lost up and down,
Right and left
And you are
Alone in the dark,
On the tarmac
Yet, you're supposed to take off...
See the sky?""...........................
Hello Axilea,
I could really relate to this poem, Especially the stanza
noted above. It sounds like you write from deep inside your psyche.
Keep up the great writing.
Ed
You can now fly Girl!
Love,
Susan