Severed (Poetry) - 10/26/2019 9:34:48 AM
Emotions spread across the breadth of our tabula as we search for the erasure of despair. Seeking rescue of our hearts from the bonds of disappointment. The scars always remain of course, the wispy recollections of what was instead of what we dreamed for and sought. A poem that reaches deeply into my psyche and touches my heart with compassion Axilea. Peace health and happiness to you. Jon Michael
Where were you? (Poetry) - 8/18/2019 1:56:45 PM
I see blame, abuse and the loneliness of one lost in the broken circle of one's own powerless reality. And Blame. And One lost moment of hope lost. No escape..."No Exit"
Where were you? (Poetry) - 8/10/2019 9:55:14 AM
Oh my - Been there x
Huge admiration for this expression and revelation, which defies and denies the evil (yet pathetic) embryo, which resides at the root of a twisted mind. xx
Where were you? (Poetry) - 7/16/2019 10:43:06 PM
Bloody heck. A private hell, a victim of another’s insanity with a harsh chain of pain.
So vividly written that the turbulence of the dark rollercoaster leaves the reader deeply empathising and feeling the hollowness of such terrifying and helpless isolation of cutting pain.
Where were you? (Poetry) - 7/14/2019 9:20:57 AM
Your question lies unanswered in the many verses showing great pain and misery of a life searching for an answer to exactly what, I'm not sure, but something of great concern and possible harm.
You certainly know how to get it out in the air, exposed, with your writing.
Ron
Where were you? (Poetry) - 7/14/2019 1:56:53 AM
Your words explore a different level of love
that swim through pain, and regret, and rebirth.
I feel the urge to moisten up my dry old hands--
don't want to find that place called nowhere.
A very powerful write.
Where were you? (Poetry) - 7/11/2019 10:03:30 AM
A remarkably penetrating and guileless exploration. Very poetic. I'm not sure who this is about, but you've exposed your feelings as candidly (and bravely) as anyone has done, in any piece I've ever read. Kudos for that. Very moving. Very sad. Hope you are well. r
No one, but you (Poetry) - 6/27/2019 8:53:20 AM
While I do not understand literally much of what you've written, metaphorically you have covered a vast range of thoughts in this poem that took some time to write. Unfortunately, although I have a beautiful tiny backyard thanks to the hard work by my partner, I am now relegated to the flatscreen billions and billions of digits that comprise the images of my life. National Geographic sends me more pictures and videos that I can view of our world.
Ron
No one, but you (Poetry) - 6/24/2019 11:55:43 AM
Wow! So many thoughts and emotions are awakened as I travel through your poetic expression, Axilea. Thank you for sharing and thank you for teaching me a new word:
con·cat·e·na·tion
/kənˌkatnˈāSH(ə)n/
noun
A series of interconnected things or events.
"a singular concatenation of events unlikely to recur"
synonyms: series, sequence, succession; More
the action of linking things together in a series.
Love, peace, and best wishes,
Regis.
No one, but you (Poetry) - 6/24/2019 11:21:11 AM
Skillfully written
Profoundly thoughtful
Stunningly with its impact.
No one, but you (Poetry) - 6/24/2019 6:40:42 AM
Ah, you have the skill to create not just a poem but a master piece, I just learned a new word today Axilea , Concatenation , thanks for the gift of your creativity, Have a wonderful day, hugs xo
A Call (Poetry) - 6/9/2019 4:03:50 AM
You give new meaning to being a true poet of the heart. Your poetry is deep and rich in language, I am glad I chose it to read today, Have a wonderful day dear Axilea .
A Call (Poetry) - 6/3/2019 7:35:12 AM
Your poem is so filled with images and metaphors that it is really hard to discern if there is any meaning to be gathered other than experiences we all feel as we face life. You seem to open the poem with a positive opening of "a drawer." But as the poem progresses, it gets into periods of recession and depression to a seemingly no point of return except for the occasional sun that shines in and ends with a gray and weak outlook.
Ron
A Call (Poetry) - 6/3/2019 12:22:43 AM
Such powerful thoughts, at once soothing and incendiary,
provocative and probing, lucid and daring. I was lured in
completely by the first stanza, only to be knocked senseless
by the remainder. I would hate to make you angry. I would not
even for a moment understand why. But I love the way you tell
me about it.
Antidote - She lifts (Poetry) - 4/1/2019 7:05:48 PM
I love the visuals of this and the spirit...nicely done Axilea
POEIN (Poetry) - 3/10/2019 8:53:07 PM
exploring poetic structure as well as imagery is commendable ...
POEIN (Poetry) - 2/24/2019 10:59:24 AM
Although I did not understand the full meaning of what you were trying to convey in this poem, I defend your right to post it based on this kind of empowering language.
Ron
POEIN (Poetry) - 2/23/2019 11:28:17 AM
a fine piece of writing
budd
POEIN (Poetry) - 2/23/2019 7:41:39 AM
EXCELLENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MOST TALENTED WORK!!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
It Rains (Poetry) - 1/17/2019 5:17:06 AM
Your words are powerful and riveting. Thank you for sharing your talent today, have a blessed day, May the sun come out after the rain. Always
It Rains (Poetry) - 1/8/2019 10:22:09 AM
A good description of a city like London during medieval times. I love the way that each phrase leads into another one in a string of phrases gray and desperate where only the rats find it like home.
Ron
It Rains (Poetry) - 1/7/2019 9:38:13 AM
I see America (as she is presently) in your thoughts here. There are so many spirits vying for dominance now in this country. One man says: watching Trump drive the snowflakes insane is priceless; like putting a halogen light on a basement of scurrying rats. Another man says: ordinary hypocrites pretend to be doves; political hypocrites pretend to be Eagles. But don't be disconcerted with their aquiline appearance. They are not Eagles, but rats or dogs. At least a good rain washes the natural things clean for a while and encourages new growth. Good imagery and challenging. Enjoyed. HNY. r
It Rains (Poetry) - 1/7/2019 6:47:26 AM
This is excellent. I wish I was more knowledgeable about the situation, but the words fall on the ear like the rain you speak about. When finished reading, the reader knows they have been blessed with a write of depth and substance.
It Rains (Poetry) - 1/7/2019 1:59:31 AM
Ratville is not a pleasant place in which to spend
a lot of time, but it, too, has its issues that need
to be exposed to the light of day. Nobody does it better.
Photographed (Poetry) - 12/29/2018 4:29:14 AM
We all have momentary lapses.
Your mood was a bit too dark when you penned this, Axilea.
But I can see through your veil. And I see a vibrant, caring
person who always knows where she is standing. Tell your muse, "nice try." Cheers!
Photographed (Poetry) - 12/28/2018 12:25:38 PM
A haunting view of a life half-lived after much pain and sorrow.
Photographed (Poetry) - 12/26/2018 10:22:58 AM
This certainly is a complex piece. Seems to present an image of what it's like to be captured and then multiplied on film. A flat, motionless image, that doesn't really show who we really are or the way we perceive ourselves. In the end you seem to remark whether which side is real, the you sitting in the cabaret or the image of you spread all over the world through the Internet.
There may be some misspellings that are making the poem meaning more ambiguous, but maybe not.
Ron
Photographed (Poetry) - 12/26/2018 8:12:41 AM
An intriguing insight into being 'photographed'. Mysterious as to intent. I recall there being certain religious beliefs that contend that photographing someone can steal their soul, imprisoning it within the film, or hard-drive if it's digital photography. Even in this day and age there are some native Americans, and aborigines of Australia, who refuse to be photographed. Quite strange I'm thinking. But who wants to dispute, or argue with, what a person, or a culture, accepts as true. I've said this before, poetess, your work always encourages thought. Thank you for sharing. Peace... rlc
Photographed (Poetry) - 12/26/2018 12:44:31 AM
Very complex work that challenges the reader to read and then reread.
A dictionary handy is a good thing to have and I love the range of verbiage you employ. One can feel the angst in every line. Very nice read!!
POMEGRANADE (Poetry) - 12/23/2018 5:16:10 PM
I was late in life to discover the pomegranate. It is interesting how you slice it to reveal this blood red essence as though it were some kind of crime to pop the seed filled globules and feel the rush of red heaven hit your taste buds.
Ron
Runners (Poetry) - 12/22/2018 6:30:42 PM
I can see the flight of mankind into the distance as they vanish to dots until nothing is left. Computers have narrowed our perspectives to pinpoints of 0 and 1.
POMEGRANADE (Poetry) - 12/22/2018 10:29:29 AM
Interesting allegorical constructs here, Axilea. There is so much one can do with this subject, given the complexities of the fruit itself. One of the challenges of the reader is to successfully intuit what is being said (or inferred). Reacting personally and subjectively, I have always had 'issues' with pomegranates. A sort of gustatory love/hate association. I'm going to have to give this one more thought...probably after having another espresso, LoL.
Dragonflew (Poetry) - 12/11/2018 1:27:09 PM
Life and death side by side in a delightfully dark poem.
Runners (Poetry) - 10/15/2018 7:45:02 PM
Very nice. I greatly enjoyed the allegories presented with such artful sophistication in this piece. As a life-long runner, I've often mused about the narcissism implicit in what passes for ritualistic 'running' these days among so many. Those waters are murky and deep, to be sure. Too many are too deeply in love with themselves to break beyond that banal barrier to drink freely from the fountain of pure physical satiety that movement bereft of self-love offers those who thirst more for spiritual singularity than for self-obsession. Very nice, Axilea.
Runners (Poetry) - 10/8/2018 9:55:10 AM
Yes, we run. A new version of the rat race. There are those that either don't know or don't care and are part of the burgeoning population of out of shape, obese masses that eat the wrong thing, do the wrong thing and suffer immensely the last half of their lives as a result.
But then there are those who are freakishly into the new way of quantifying everything, largely through digital devices that help them focus on molecules rather than perception. I believe they are the subject of your lengthy poetic discourse.
Run? Yes, I ran. I ran like the wind as a child and later I ran for the pure enjoyment of feeling the wind on my body and observing the smells and sights as I best through neighborhoods and down trails leading me into a better feeling of my place in nature. I built muscle strength and consumed calories from eating so much.
And then, at 20, paralyzed partially from surgically induced spinal cord injury, I could no longer run and I decided to change my lifestyle. Stopped eating so much and started eating the right foods. I walked rather than took a ride. Thus, I maintained my health for three quarters of a century without any of the digital tools of the 21st century to aid me in my quest for health and long life. Now, I'm just a long-distance runner.
RonYes, we run. A new version of the rat race. There are those that either don't know or don't care and are part of the burgeoning population of out of shape, obese masses that eat the wrong thing, do the wrong thing and suffer immensely the last half of their lives as a result.
But then there are those who are freakishly into the new way of quantifying everything, largely through digital devices that help them focus on molecules rather than perception. I believe they are the subject of your lengthy poetic discourse.
Run? Yes, I ran. I ran like the wind as a child and later I ran for the pure enjoyment of feeling the wind on my body and observing the smells and sights as I best through neighborhoods and down trails leading me into a better feeling of my place in nature. I built muscle strength and consumed calories from eating so much.
And then, at 20, paralyzed partially from surgically induced spinal cord injury, I could no longer run and I decided to change my lifestyle. Stopped eating so much and started eating the right foods. I walked rather than took a ride. Thus, I maintained my health for three quarters of a century without any of the digital tools of the 21st century to aid me in my quest for health and long life. Now, I'm just a long-distance runner.
Ron oh
Runners (Poetry) - 10/5/2018 2:51:06 PM
Boiling down (baking down) today's humankind into digitized gingerbread men (and women), you capture a sad, and not so delicious truth. "Run, run, run[ning] as fast as [we] can" for what? What are we running--running into--running towards--running out of?
Numbers: Weight. Height. Width. Body mass. Ratio of fat to muscle... It is interesting that body image and vanity can lead to two routes simultaneously--like the ever health-conscious, body-strengthening/beautifying route, and likewise, the pleasure-seeking, body-gratifying route. Numbers: What's yours? What time to meet? Meanwhile cell phones,computers, tablets inwardly whir with ones and zeros, also simultaneously reducing all you input into digits.
So we run numbers. And it's horrible that health-mindedness can lead to such dehumanization. But more than that. It's demoralizing and degrading as well. Even doctors, for those seeking health for less vain reasons, have to run the numbers to look for output.
Your poem makes me think hard about this reduction we're constantly doing--reducing everything down (that's infinite and expansive) into nondescript vagueness. Hey, but (plug for poetry) when we reduce a thought down to concise words, we get more depth, more clarity, and sometimes, a pretty powerful message.
To me, this is a warning as much as a picture of modern living.
Those forever running numbers, running on impulses, running on helium fumes of fun and fantasy...are about to do a belly flop on the broken glass of reality... they're running out of time, out of life, out of luck.
(I do take issues with the Peter Pan line, though. I like the Neverland guy. Sometimes, if you run the right numbers, maybe you really can fly...). I'm just sayin'... --Charlie
Runners (Poetry) - 10/5/2018 9:22:20 AM
Awww . . . This is good, although I don't quite know houw to comment on it. I like how you wrote the lines. As I said this is good.
Veiled Virgin (Poetry) - 9/22/2018 3:32:31 PM
You are a fearless poet, unafraid to let your emotions guide your pen,
and they do so with guile and stealth and masterful strokes of misdirection. Do they have a destination? I'll need to keep coming back to find out. Wonderful craftsmanship that leave me gasping for more.
Veiled Virgin (Poetry) - 9/17/2018 12:49:27 PM
Beautiful and mysterious. Ekphrastic in nature. An interesting interpretation of the image I'm thinking. Your poetry is still as challenging as it was years ago. Enjoyed this. Peace... r
Night Animal (Poetry) - 9/17/2018 9:15:46 AM
I am in love with the first five lines of this poem. I can ab.soul.utely feel that yawning elastic underneath a delicious dream. Of course, not all dreams are delicious, but a gratifying sigh is. And the word "gambol" is delicious too. I mean, who uses it anymore? It's descriptive. It's full of soul. I'll take a gambol with the night animals over a "mock city" atrocity any day! --Charlie
Veiled Virgin (Poetry) - 9/17/2018 9:12:42 AM
That statue, a conplex work of absolute pure art. And how you used it to give your poem its highlights is amazing.
Veiled Virgin (Poetry) - 9/17/2018 8:54:10 AM
When I see the statue depicted, the first thing I wonder is, "how on earth did the sculptor get cold stone marble to look like soft veiling?" I think everyone wonders that. And I think your first lines capture that wonder, but then, somehow, you lift the veil. Perhaps the better question is, "why did the sculptor veil her? Nothing is hidden."
So what other things are veiled, and why are they veiled? Furniture, stored, forgotten, avoiding dust. Future. Death. Secrets. Lies. Mystery. Things we don't want brought to light.
Here, in this poem's second stanza the paradox is that the figure's inner light reveals a shadow cast by a lie. Who lied? "Killers of prayers". "Strippers of layers of civilised worlds".
I can see the chiseler in that. Chiseling off layers of marble, as too we, in society, chisel away layers of civilisation. Under the guise of becoming deeper-- delving into spirituality, theology, sociology-- our meanings become more and more shallow.
And as in the last stanza with the sculptor, in all our discarding of past rubble, for all the laying bare we've done, all we've done really is to make laying bare unremarkable.
In the end, we readers are left feeling exposed, and wondering for all the world what freedom really is. --Charlie
BTW, I love that word "afloat". The images that concocts...!
Veiled Virgin (Poetry) - 9/17/2018 8:35:10 AM
Completely aside from the fact that that particular statue in reference is a marvel of human art sculpturing, your chosen words have a piquency and pungency that lingers in the mind not unlike the subtle aroma of an unidentifiable but intriguing incense wafting by on a sunset zephyr. Even such moments of unexpectedly delightful balm pale against a backdrop of savagely odoriferous reactivity. But then, the world is, and always has been, full to the brim with lies, narcissistic deceits and myopic iconoclasms. Especially when the frame of reference is female.
Veiled Virgin (Poetry) - 9/17/2018 8:24:06 AM
Your poem is worded in a way that more confounds me rather than enlightens. But the image reveals much about how women were treated in the past… and still are.
I was attracted to the statue because of the skill of the sculptor to be able to, carving on stone, carefully overlay what could be mistaken for human flesh with a diaphanous covering of even a transparent nature. In today's variable world of computerized and printed virtual-reality, an eye and hand like this, goes unappreciated.
Ron
Veiled Virgin (Poetry) - 9/17/2018 8:15:11 AM
VERY NICE!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
Veiled Virgin (Poetry) - 9/16/2018 9:07:19 PM
A piece of wordsmithing that could have multiple meanings and messages, leaving the reader with a riveting consideration of identity with"wiped away by a norm mimicking freedom." How gender universal that line is.
Severed (Poetry) - 9/3/2018 9:18:25 PM
The purging of the used and learned lessons are necessary, as you so incisively express, in order for new questions to be considered and unheard answers to be thought upon. Far too few people embrace this "paradox of life" that does at times necessitate reconsideration as to what is truly sweet and what is truly sour. Yin and Yang require space in order to commingle in their task of presenting this paradox you speak of. Bravo.
Night Animal (Poetry) - 9/3/2018 9:13:24 PM
Inspired wordsmithing that finds the heart of the subject and asks all who read it to consider their own "free dance of the soulful animal..."
"mellifluous garden" indeed. Only the unconscious would attempt to leave. Beautiful expressions. Thank you for posting.
Night Animal (Poetry) - 9/3/2018 12:05:06 PM
Very Nice!!!! Glad to see YOU, Axilea!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
Night Animal (Poetry) - 9/3/2018 10:27:20 AM
Most certainly a wide open dreamscape where anything is possible under the guise of night. The images your words evoked make this a priceless piece of poetry.
Ron
Night Animal (Poetry) - 9/3/2018 9:36:14 AM
Nature, raw and explained with a poetical bent toward the absurd, which nature itself absorbs. Good writing.
Night Animal (Poetry) - 9/3/2018 8:23:26 AM
"At night there is a movement in the air,
A life stronger than life, yet cowardly beaten,
The free dance of the soulful animal,
A gambol before the cruelest dawn."
Very evocative and also beautifully pleasing, Axilea. Panther, panther, absence of light, velvet movements in the night...
Night Animal (Poetry) - 9/2/2018 11:11:14 PM
a contemplative poem, full of mystery and insight. Well done.
Dragonflew (Poetry) - 8/31/2018 1:30:39 PM
Interesting ode to a deformed butterfly, drowning?
Ron
Dragonflew (Poetry) - 8/30/2018 8:41:17 PM
Of course I had to google “anisoptera”. I never cease to be amazed at the breadth and depth of your vocabulary. You, my fellow logophiliac, are a dealer of rare words. So when you hang your shingle, I’m all eyes and ears.
So let’s talk about the word itself, Anisoptera—it sounds spicy, optical, and optimistic all at once. So very awesome word! And it’s meaningful to me. It holds a depth of meaning that few insects evoke. And like a plethora of one-elevensies, to me, will always mean hope and spiritual life—the presence of a loved one that’s passed on.
But that aside, the stream of thought has light and dark, contrast, and lingering visuals. And I still recall some older poems of yours about butterflies, and am thinking you have a small collection of them now. You should get together with an entomologist and an illustrator and put together a unique and awesome book. I know I’d buy it.
Unevenly winged or not, you sure bring dragonflies to life again. —Charlie
Severed (Poetry) - 8/30/2018 8:15:28 PM
That is a deep kind of love, and one deep kind of pain being torn apart. The description of that separation gave me sensations of real pain, and if aa person could imagine such a segregation, it is made easier by your poetic thoughts here. I imagine myself in a garden watching a cat scratching at the soil in search of a worm or a rodent, perhaps at her own mites or fleas, and thinking, that’s just like me, entering fall reluctantly. I hope your summer was as blessed as the poem suggests, and may your fall bring on such a fest of love that you won’t have room in your heart for the sheer depth and quantity of it! Here’s to summer! What a love she was, wasn’t she? —Charlie
Severed (Poetry) - 8/28/2018 4:35:11 PM
Powerful, even if the imagery is still a bit diffuse, seen through my own filters of perception. Everything that screams up from under my own Stygian depths of Schopenhauer style illogical negativism says "Yes! Yes! Yes!".
Severed (Poetry) - 8/28/2018 8:14:38 AM
It's almost as though you have taken the summer to do your mental spring cleaning. I certainly hope disengage the symptom from the cause before it all becomes too overwhelming. I love the way you put the words together to express it.
Ron
Severed (Poetry) - 8/28/2018 8:07:49 AM
I'm not sure what all of this meant, but it was an interesting and enjoyable read.
Severed (Poetry) - 8/28/2018 7:46:33 AM
Ahhh . . . I think these are the telling lines . . .
"I am writing letters / To eyes that can no longer read:"
I get from your poem of angst that a loved one has passed away and she is having great difficulty dealing with it. Whatever your true meaning I quite enjoyed reading it.
Severed (Poetry) - 8/28/2018 7:04:51 AM
One of the delightful mysteries of poetic expression is how uniquely wired each of us are. Certainly one paradox in life/reality (IMO) is that no image is as compelling, for a poet, as the one which exists only in the minds eye. As always, your verse encourages thought. Thanks. r
Severed (Poetry) - 8/27/2018 8:58:44 PM
I love summer, and this piece pulls me very close to the next season.
Severed (Poetry) - 8/27/2018 8:56:31 PM
I love your images here Axilea. Your verses awaken deep emotions within me as I can relate completely... ...but you have expressed it most eloquently and meaningfully. Thank you for sharing. Love, peace, and best wishes to you,
Regis
A-gain (Poetry) - 8/11/2015 11:01:43 AM
It's funny how grey of any nature - cloud, paint, walls - literally hems us in. Suffocatingly so. It has a numbing effect of brain, consciousness, feeling, general dislocation. The sea within is lost in the sea of it. The turning tides of brighter washes will renew the human spirit again. Very controlled writing that plumbs the hidden depths. xx
A-gain (Poetry) - 8/10/2015 12:43:21 PM
I love your poetry and your metaphors...may these emotions
that you have expressed give you a better clarity of what
you have gone through...
Always,
Deborah
A-gain (Poetry) - 8/8/2015 11:35:44 AM
Such depth of awareness in your words, and motion and expansion.
Blessings, Christine
A-gain (Poetry) - 7/29/2015 4:15:15 PM
Love the meaning of your poem.. It is hard having seeing the light, be surrounded by it; then suddenly trapped in a cage of darkness.. Then again, you trust your path.. Until light pulls youback to peace, compassion, and.bliss..
A-gain (Poetry) - 7/26/2015 4:04:57 PM
Poignant and revealing Axilea. We face internal struggles for purpose and survival. A reason and the will to return to the halcyon days when life wore our purpose and the sun always rose upon our face. Time and circumstance rearrange the priorities for us. I have not read your work for a long time but feel welcomed by your work as an old comforting friend. May love and peace be always with you my friend. Jon Michael
A-gain (Poetry) - 7/26/2015 8:53:55 AM
~Axilea~
Brilliant colours to appear for you once and "again"
Fine writing dear Axilea.
Lady Mary Ann
A-gain (Poetry) - 7/26/2015 8:21:44 AM
As I read I, sense someone going through great emotional trauma and gradually coming out of it. But then, I'm often wrong in my interpretations.
Ron
A-gain (Poetry) - 7/26/2015 7:57:30 AM
Your verses certainly awaken thoughts, Axilea. They urge me to reflect upon my life. Love, peace, and best wishes to you,
Regis
A-gain (Poetry) - 7/26/2015 5:44:10 AM
If only there were more inclined to contemplate their own tug-a-war as you have, to consider the multiple ways to progress beyond survival and into the realm of creating another era for oneself. Well penned.
A-gain (Poetry) - 7/25/2015 8:09:44 PM
A gain, angst, against, again. That's ripped script, straight from the center of you. What do you do when your inner sea dries up? Muscles wither. Do misses it's "d", and becomes a zero. And because "be" is the ultimate in all verb-power, nothing exists without it--not really--just matter, unorganized.
Imagine have with be in it. What ooo you get? Behave. Do with be "be"comes BeDoo. Every good thing is made better by that verb. I've contemplated long and hard on it, and am(a be word) convinced that it is by far the most important word/verb in any language.
Love it, Axilea! --Charlie
fading around midnight (Poetry) - 7/22/2015 7:01:14 PM
Nice ............Interesting piece, there's a lot going on here, I'll do a re-read, tomorrow, it "leaves" me thinking...hmmm
I like how it's presented.
fading around midnight (Poetry) - 7/22/2015 12:23:07 PM
Fabulous to see you posting again, Axilea. A very versatile piece, this, that is almost a stream of consciousness although adhering to a visual narrative. Very poetic prose. I particularly love both the first and final lines that break a dislocating inertia. Stretch the evening - arouse and assert life. A very vivid capture. xx
fading around midnight (Poetry) - 7/15/2015 9:44:47 AM
BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
fading around midnight (Poetry) - 7/11/2015 10:33:47 AM
I get the image of the ghost sitting on a park bench and trying to write down, in poetic form, memories from that viewpoint.
Ron
fading around midnight (Poetry) - 7/11/2015 8:47:56 AM
~Alexia~
Beautiful vivid artistic images in your poem.
Delightful to read.
Lady Mary Ann
fading around midnight (Poetry) - 7/10/2015 8:12:57 PM
Vivid-vivid in highly contrasted black, white and grey. Even through these black marks, I can still see your rainbow, though. --Charlie
The evanescent f(e)ather image (Poetry) - 6/28/2015 9:29:34 AM
So lovely! And wonderful to read you again!
This poem had breathtaking imagery and language and speaks to me of recovering our own divine love from within, our birthright.
Blessings, Christine
The evanescent f(e)ather image (Poetry) - 6/21/2015 7:53:45 AM
EXCELLENT!!!!!!!!!!! VERY TALENTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ''a meeting in the middle of nowhere''...''...and from the middle of the bridge, you can choose your nowhere.'' ------ I LOVE THIS!!!!!!!!!! So nice to see YOU, Axilea!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
The evanescent f(e)ather image (Poetry) - 6/18/2015 10:41:24 AM
... And from nowhere. I like the symmetry between words--the parallelism between images. I keep thinking about that mirror, about it's being a place to bury yourself as well as a place to live. But the analogy goes even further. Life can be an illusion, but a useful one. In massage therapy, mirrors are successfully used to massage phantom limbs of amputee victims. They can fill in the gaps, so we become more than our sum total. I w as thinking, too, that water has that same quality. It ehnhqnces, if it's still. If not, it contorts an image.
I really love that you are an "I-land". I feel very much hat way too--especially father-less just now. These are visuals and ideas I want to explore more. --Charlie
The evanescent f(e)ather image (Poetry) - 6/18/2015 8:47:38 AM
You have written a very ethereal piece that can probably only be understood by you.
Ron
The evanescent f(e)ather image (Poetry) - 6/18/2015 8:44:33 AM
When we are born, we all cross that bridge from the ethereal to the real.
There is a story the says babies still know the secrets of the universe, and the other side. Their cooing and billing is an attempt to tell their adults what they still know. But alas, but the time they are able to talk and express concepts, they have forgotten the things they were trying to tell us.
I love this poetry.
Walt
The evanescent f(e)ather image (Poetry) - 6/18/2015 4:17:22 AM
You are from everywhere with all your travels and all
the witnessing with your young life...happy to see
you posting again!
Always,
Deborah
The evanescent f(e)ather image (Poetry) - 6/17/2015 4:03:14 PM
I am quite spell-bound by your verses, Axilea. Thank you for sharing your gift. Love and best wishes,
Regis
Glyph (Poetry) - 8/10/2014 5:04:24 AM
THERE'S A LOT TO TAKE IN HERE - A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT AND THE SEASONS, COVERS THE SPECTRUM FOR ME!
Simply-fire (Poetry) - 3/18/2014 2:44:28 PM
Beautiful imagery. Love it. Liz
Simply-fire (Poetry) - 3/8/2014 8:43:05 PM
Hey! I missed this one. The last line throws me off each time I read this. It seems so carelessly placed there. I got gloriously lost in all of those z's and soft rhymes and plays on words, that it caught me off guard. But then, that line is right on the money. We get so caught up in our own ideas of beauty, that we can't see the even larger miracles around us.
And I need to send you a little thing my D wrote along the same vein that I think you'll like.
So nice to read your poetry again. --charlie
Simply-fire (Poetry) - 12/6/2013 2:40:07 AM
surprising and unexpected use of words - that is poetry!
Simply-fire (Poetry) - 8/24/2013 3:17:47 PM
...it is amazing how the inanimate can be viewed as animated when seen through the imaginative eye. love this.
Simply-fire (Poetry) - 8/13/2013 3:06:34 PM
Ah, love! Axilea you describe it so divinely, as it should be. May love and peace be always with you my dear friend. Jon Michael
Simply-fire (Poetry) - 8/12/2013 7:14:37 AM
Axilea, The art of love, forgetting what it felt like, and the exhilaration of the dance?? You are such a wordsmith!
Always,
Deborah
To Yourself (Poetry) - 8/2/2013 11:46:38 PM
this one just keeps on giving...keeps revealing...a gift of read and re-reads. nice!
Simply-fire (Poetry) - 8/2/2013 8:42:34 AM
VERY NICE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
With Skin (Poetry) - 7/31/2013 3:11:56 PM
Such a thin membrane to face the world with. Because of our frailties we had to invent clothing. Also that shame thing passed down to us when we hid from Gods wrath. Our collective conscience would cringe in shame for our psychological nakedness; for if we knew the wrath of our Lord, our clothing would not be enough. Perhaps I'm reading more than was meant into your poem, but the skin can be read like a stratified record. It tells our age, what we have done and where we have been. The remnant of smiles rests in the subtle wrinkling around our eyes, the crink of light forehead lines tells of our laughter and our sadness. Excellent words here Axilea. Bob
Simply-fire (Poetry) - 7/31/2013 3:39:44 AM
wondeful imagery and words to lead us there
budd
Simply-fire (Poetry) - 7/29/2013 6:24:54 AM
All I can gather is that this is about, “coming out.” Blue on blue can't be seen, so it becomes the perfect disguise that can be ignored because it isn't, “seen.”
Ron
Simply-fire (Poetry) - 7/28/2013 6:37:25 PM
It's intriguing when people decorate there fireplaces with things that do not belong inside fireplaces, some psychologist probably has a theory on that but, to be free is wonderfully transforming
Simply-fire (Poetry) - 7/28/2013 6:14:29 PM
In the Spring time in the fields much is hidden that even butterflies would not dare to venture nor anyone else, you would hope, that would interrupt love.
In Transit (Poetry) - 7/27/2013 1:29:31 PM
the art of detachment, I hope for continued inspirational conversations for you. A unique write, interesting to read and fusional dreams I love. enjoyed much. ~ Morgan
In Transit (Poetry) - 7/26/2013 6:48:01 AM
yes keep it as is best
budd
In Transit (Poetry) - 7/26/2013 3:21:31 AM
I wonder what it would be like if you were a psychiatrist?? After reading this I had a hunch you would be very perceptive in understanding people as we really are--not as we seem to be--LOL-well done--at least I can sleep at nights knowing you haven't figured me out completely-LOL
In Transit (Poetry) - 7/25/2013 1:32:28 PM
I must wonder what kind of conversation drew this work out? How beautiful the words flow from where a conversation left off and a dream like state followed.
In Transit (Poetry) - 7/25/2013 7:48:59 AM
Disassociation is the new norm as the 'plastic society' that I have always referred to them as being, and I note that Charlie too associates them with the same term. There or here and everywhere but nowhere when it comes time for accountability. They flow like an endless stream on the tides of good fortune and ebb when it is time to accept life's unpleasant details. Transient is more applicable as they exist in the fringes of society. Good to read your work again Axilea. May love and peace be always with you my dear friend. Jon Michael
In Transit (Poetry) - 7/24/2013 8:18:23 PM
I'm right in sync with you here, Axilea. There was a time when people primarily lived in places where they could really sink (sync?) down roots--feel the solidness and solidarity of earth beneath them and live among plants and animals where one could feel the perpetual spring of life and then death surrounding them as they stood pivotal center like a tree. I've experienced that. Felt the permanence of merely being. Now I live in a college town where my neighbors come and go in nine month increments--some less, some more. We live for/by/from/in plastic and paper containers. Use and toss. What ever happened to canning jars? Sealing wax? Rag rugs and seed-planted apple trees? But I am waxing long, and you say it all far better. --Charlie
In Transit (Poetry) - 7/24/2013 2:46:34 PM
A pleasing arrangement here Mu. The disconnectedness of the CITY. Possibly of the life we find ourselves in. Hard to feel near the earth when the constructs of civilization without harmony intrude. Personally I think you're getting at, even though you may not realize it, the shrinking and uninvolved worlds we tend to contract to. When our circle of flesh and blood acquaintances shrinks to only a few and the virtual population burgeons, do we not feel cut off and lonely in the heart? I like your expressions here. Bob
Unended (Poetry) - 7/21/2013 9:20:48 AM
a beautiful feeling to this. some things hold for moment and some things fall. excellent write. ~ Morgan
To Yourself (Poetry) - 7/20/2013 11:50:50 AM
I liked this poem a lot
Anima-L (Poetry) - 7/19/2013 4:55:17 AM
for me, the title's the key,
the significance of the separated L;
is spirit the vital separation from the (mere) animal,
the distinguishing facility?
yes, we are animals that write poetry and symphonies,
build cathedrals and bridges...and wage terrible
unnecessary wars
'where there is great achievement there is also
great error' Pontius Pilate
take good care, Axilea,
john
Unended (Poetry) - 7/19/2013 4:51:25 AM
a study in the essential continuum
"...structured lines happily
fragmented.." ah yes, just the right
phrasing and the right line break
and it goes on and on
good to read you, Axilea, a poet
among so many bloggers and diary writers
john
Unended (Poetry) - 7/18/2013 4:35:50 AM
Axilea, We see what is coming and yet keep silent as always...
Always,
Deborah
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 7/9/2013 10:23:57 PM
The photo is the physical being of the words "the silence is deafening". The words bring me to tears as does the photo. I have one fortune cookie that made a lasting impression on me. It comes to mind with this photo, these words. I'm just paraphrasing but it went something like "If the eyes do not see it, how can the heart grieve for it." Lead to my Touch poem but my Touch doesn't touch this.
Anima-L (Poetry) - 7/9/2013 10:11:32 PM
Captured my containment of myself in your poem. Sometimes I feel alone, I embrace and I despise it. I know I'm not alone in feeling alone. Is there togetherness there. It is too late for me to be trying to be deep.
Unended (Poetry) - 7/9/2013 9:30:42 AM
much to read in these lines
budd
Unended (Poetry) - 7/9/2013 9:07:47 AM
''Beating hearts with wings'',....''jasper birds whisper moments of holy singing past and present in the air breaking bars like broken rhymes'''.............. VERY BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
Unended (Poetry) - 7/8/2013 7:28:04 PM
ya gotta love the alliteration in these little fragmented pieces--"syncopated swallow's flight...skies sensitive grace - simple...simply suspended" and "just before the blue gold evening ... no longer afraid to fall..." woven inbetween all those sexy s's. It all does seem fragmented, but then again, I do believe that's the point of this whole piece, unended, and yet meaning something. We choose to sieze our own meanings and silence the words. Such a shame that we do that really, as much of the beauty of words is the way they sound, not just the meaning. That last strophe just echoes in my mind, as does the line(s) "undone sentences of strictly material jail". So I'll be true to myself--that is, I'll rebel and let the words rush on. Never mind the meaning. Here are some more lovely s's: susurrating sustenance fumbling in a purple stream... Who knows what that means? But to me, it sounds pretty. --Charlie
Unended (Poetry) - 7/8/2013 5:59:44 AM
My meager brain remains confused between the beauty of the swallow's flight and the Jasper bird's song, except that in the evening light, they return, unending.
Ron
Unended (Poetry) - 7/7/2013 9:15:38 PM
...in occlusion and substitution we penetrate the "thick pale texture above"... where falling leads to where there is the "apex of a" revelation as much as a "revolution" and "words unended" precede and are prescient of words upended... indeed, Ms. MU, all is not as it seems... and this is why we write... to keep it real... or so surreal that reality is sewn together with uninterrupted "moments of holy singing" and the "broken bars" to perpetually undo the "sentences of strictly material jail" and liberate the immaterial forever! (but this is just a cursory reading, and first impressions are not always what they seem ;)
Roger
Unended (Poetry) - 7/7/2013 6:49:49 PM
My first thought was Stan is correct, he ain't right.
How lovely you describe the freedom of flight.
No rhyme intended..................LOL
Walt
Unended (Poetry) - 7/7/2013 6:13:00 PM
Axilea ...now this might sound crazy but the imediate image I had when i started reading your words/lines was that of that Asian,jet plane 777 going nose first into the ground..."Jasper birds whisper
moments of holy singing" right before the impact " oh well i never claimed to be right in the head...
The Poet's Hand (Poetry) - 7/6/2013 6:33:55 PM
The hand of justice is firm like the handshake of a president. The hand of poetry can be like the hands of a pianist, long tapering fingers to light the torch of romance in your heart.
Anima-L (Poetry) - 6/22/2013 1:02:28 PM
how I'd like to
reach some dimension
beyond "your" walls
We are all prisoners of our own perceptions and anima-ted dreams that are often as alien to us as our own animal understandings of our deeper, "unknown" selves. I've a short manuscript of character-study poems which I have titled WHO ZOO and maybe it's this resonance I feel with your urban landscape, peopled by those whose ability to reason and articulate may be curtailed by lack of shared language and utterance, whose lives are "barred" from each other by our/their own perceptions of being walled-in... or, indeed, locked out. This wrangles and jangles marvellously, Axilea, and as always I'm in deep admiration of how you are so bold with speculative concepts, allusion and ellipses of thought. I love your vivid expressions of what is often very difficult to conceptualise let alone give voice to. And, as always, your voice is your very own. Great stuff! :) xx
Anima-L (Poetry) - 6/9/2013 4:21:13 PM
Your words awaken thoughts and emotions, Axilea; most meaningful and expressive. Thank you for sharing. Love and best wishes to you,
Regis
Anima-L (Poetry) - 6/3/2013 7:09:41 AM
Axilia, we are prisoners of our own making. The barriers we perceive are painted upon the backs of our eyes, nowhere else. We glance in the mirror to compare the image we view in comparison to the one painted in our psyche. We adjust the perception routinely out of human ignorance to ensure we do not stray from our self painted image. Thus the dream, and the inevitable absolute landscapes, always stretched to the vanishing point. May love and peace be always with you my dear friend. Jon Michael
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/21/2013 11:21:58 PM
Great poem. I love those crushed berries on the "urban stave", showing up all bloody against the black and white backdrop. There too are stripes all over--in the bars, in the zebra print, the cage, and I see the author as a crushed strawberry, perhaps a bleeding quarter note, shaking horizontal staff lines in a desperate attempt to bring to life a fading melody (dream?).
Question: Does taping your thoughts to your legs help? Sounds intriguing. --Charlie
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/19/2013 10:14:29 AM
Axilea, What is real and what is an illusion?
Always,
Deborah
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/18/2013 2:06:03 PM
in visibility comes vulnerability, stretched tight, like a canvass of alienation, dabbed with just enough familiarity to breed a comfortable contempt of conformity where the raw, unmitigated realism of residence gives way to the turbid temerity of human bondage and the bone-crushing banality of terminological contracts whose fine print cancels all but the most obligatory familiarity until even the minutia is consumed by irony and the point is laid bare as the death mask of your strange animal.
Your poem, Axilea, is the stuff of which legends are made.
Excellence takes time, does it not?
Roger
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/18/2013 11:31:18 AM
Well written and much enjoyed Axilea :)
Love and Light
Lily
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/17/2013 5:16:45 PM
The DNA Genome Project proved...we are not
as far away from the...Genetic ZOO...as we'd like
to think, but the ..."hand clasped on iron bars:
No escape!"....why worry yourself...where is a will
there is a way....Axilea.
The existence in a Gigantic Hologram produced
an inspiring, excellent poem!...proved...the objective
reality does not exist. The illusion appears real.
With warm regards Isabella.
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/17/2013 12:23:58 PM
~Axilea~
Illusions..soul stretched to vanishing point.
Excellent writing.
Lady Mary Ann
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/17/2013 8:58:05 AM
Your poem reeks of hopelessness and despair from being tied to that which you cannot escape. Your point is well taken and understood.
Ron
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/17/2013 8:01:11 AM
VERY NICE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/17/2013 4:13:15 AM
In many ways we're not so far evolved from our animal ways in the real scope of things, which is it's ow self a paradox,and the few of us [poets] have the audacity to question the seemingly reality we exist/live in ...and so we pace on paper back and forth.
Axilea I think you are the Queen of thought provoking poems,nice work.
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/17/2013 2:11:47 AM
very well penned i enjoyed this
budd
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/16/2013 10:42:05 PM
What a dream you painted here...it is nearly organized chaos orchestrated by the precise paintbrush you used. Absolutely fantastic, Axilea
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/16/2013 4:09:00 PM
this reads like a unsettling dream, Captured in a zoo like existence. interesting and compelling!
Anima-L (Poetry) - 5/16/2013 2:55:31 PM
I like your work Axilea. This one paints clear images of a human mind seen from within by an alien entity. The only thing I don't like is the varying number of lines per verse, which I always find jarring and which distracts me from the vision of the poet. Of course, that's just personal taste! Still, few people of any sort create a vision so clear and so unique, forming a crystal window into the soul and imagination of the poet. I really like it!
Skylights (Poetry) - 5/11/2013 10:22:20 PM
There are light-voices in the sky.
peace and light
FAKHRE
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/17/2013 4:56:55 PM
Such apt usage of symbols and symbolism, such poetic musicality!
Blessings, xx
Christine
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/13/2013 10:38:57 PM
You have not lost your touch...this piece evokes emotions and images in the deepest curves of the skies above the clouds realm.
Private Light (Poetry) - 3/12/2013 3:21:01 PM
I had a critical career in the hospital on the day shift, I would pause and stop beside the Flint River in the heart of Georgia, to feel the power of the river, and for a few moments reflection on the coming day and my life as well. With coffee in hand I would sit on the hood of my car and maybe say a prayer that I wouldn't make a mistake and kill anyone today. This was always,of course in the dark. In summertime it was dawning, with just a few moments of shadowy moments left to myself.
Enjoyed and related to this poem.
Walt
The Poet's Hand (Poetry) - 3/11/2013 4:51:48 PM
Poets see the truth and God is a Poet too-well done
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/11/2013 7:54:11 AM
this one soars on outstretched wings
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/9/2013 2:03:03 PM
another powerful piece.
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/9/2013 11:44:22 AM
Nicely done again,Axilea....great visuals and flow..thanks
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/9/2013 9:07:37 AM
Axilea, the contributions of glyphs to the roots of myriad languages is a fascinating story within itself. My sense of your poem is that it alludes to those literary contributions and also wraps in the realm of human emotions enhanced by their application, love not the least of them. A refreshing perspective written with aplomb. I wish you love and peace my dear friend. Jon Michael
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/9/2013 8:20:17 AM
This is the kind of thinking and posturing of convictions that poetry readers need more of. Far too much posted material from other writers is of questionable worth, but this piece begs to be read often as a reminder of the complexity of the serious writer's need to work, rework, and then rework again the choice of words to express something, as you have, that is worth remembering. Thank you for the read.
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/9/2013 2:36:27 AM
EXCELLENT!!!!!!!!!!! ''...we bathe in sorrow''---- I LOVE THIS!!!!...''tears that carry away the ink of fading words''--- MOST TALENTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/8/2013 3:04:54 PM
Oh, but that's beautiful...to take now words, and turn them back into their essential meanings. That's the job of the writers of words. You're right (write?) it has been raining for far too long, where words become mere words, and have somehow lost their meanings. I believe there was a time--in the beginning--when there were worlds within words, and worlds were made by words, or by Word, not mere bywords of meaningless, selfish, androgynous mouth-gushings. The Wor(l)d-- a big bang? Maybe. One wor(l)d--a "sweet violence of purple sound". Your words are very creative, expounding upon soundings.
And this creator said-- let there be a poem. And there was a poem. And it was good. --ChARliE
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/8/2013 2:31:02 PM
Raining, resistance fighters, a language, a link, in need. Many connotations implied...again a wonderful piece!
Always,
Deborah
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/8/2013 2:26:49 PM
Very powerful poem Axilea. So much power in words we release, then take up again and fold them back in on themselves. It's how we make meaning ofmouyr lives.
ChipB
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/8/2013 9:47:49 AM
Your words give much to the reader, substance to reflect upon. This poem is worthy of much more than a single reading. Thank you, Axilea. Love and best wishes,
Regis
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/8/2013 7:57:57 AM
I do not fully understand what you have written, but I enjoyed reading it for the way it's written, nonetheless.
Ron
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/8/2013 6:56:43 AM
I love the line..."We are resistance fighters..." This is a powerfully written poem.
Cheers,
Dan
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/8/2013 4:41:14 AM
to me, Axilea, very good timing,
highly appropriate for International Womens Day;
'glyph' is at the root of many creative processes,
shaping materials and words, bringing ideas to
- the favourite of the Art critics - 'resolved works'
i especially like the call at the end
john
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/7/2013 10:01:41 PM
"...resistance fighters redeeming signs of nearly erased memory that we have been recreating..." lovely lines ... so lovely they might be truer than true... brings to mind another old line from the Eagles "The Long Run": "We can handle some resistance, if our love is a strong one."... Is that part of the "holy sentiment" we are in need of? As we cry ourselves back "into the spring" we have to ask whether they or we or then ever really belongs to the now where the "old syntax [makes] sense" or whether there is a fresh rivulet being forged in the fearlessness of our forevermorning daybreaking over and over the edgy horizons in my auburnt bridges on whose engineered defeat I will never look back for fear of losing sight of what lies ahead beyond tomorrow's sun shadowing the dark side of your eyes as you pierce me til I bleed love with your penetrating gaze. Pardon me: it's just my "syntax making sense."
Resonant write, Axilea!
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 3/7/2013 7:46:55 PM
Axilea, you have captured the "organised chaos" of human emotions, reality (divided) and mind very well. When you move between West and East .......the surviving energy .......comes .......from "making sense to yourself".......
Thank you for sharing.
Isabella
Glyph (Poetry) - 3/7/2013 6:00:53 PM
it does make sense in it's own way
budd
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 3/3/2013 12:46:40 PM
You have most effectively brought to my mind the chaotic nature of this world which seems to perpetually prevent peace from prevaling at last. Thank you, Axilea. Love and best wishes,
Regis
The Poet's Hand (Poetry) - 2/22/2013 3:49:26 AM
''Is justice not already written, carved in our bones by the poet's hand?''----------I LOVE THIS!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/20/2013 8:18:21 AM
Women doing harm to their bodies, not seeing all that they carry with them. Having a false reading of who they are.
Always,
Deborah
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/19/2013 7:21:39 AM
As if seen from a blood smudged window of a speeding Humvee, the chaotic world roiling as if caught in a perpetual sandstorm. Much to think about. Thank you.
To Yourself (Poetry) - 2/18/2013 6:04:36 AM
"behind silver railings I whisper,lie not to yourself"
Its an eternal truth - seeking peace/love in silence ..good poem Axilea
-Hira
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/17/2013 7:41:44 AM
so many tragedies in the world that take place outside of the small cocoon that so many live in ~
You have captured so much here, you have such depth and heart.
Christine xx
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/17/2013 7:07:12 AM
Axilea, my sense of the photo is that of two jaded perspectives, though only one is wearing dark glass/blindfold. At this time I am unable to see a 'New Western Syntax', although I do see ever evolving western semantics. although semantics are constantly
evolving, refining in most languages. From my sense it is the result of political correctness, a cheap term in my view for a license to overtly deceive. An art form which politicos practice and are adept at. Semantics naturally evolve yet are also forced to change as factors affecting human perception evolve with technology and thus an ever increasing need for new words to provide the apt descriptions. You have masterfully woven many subjects into your poem. A wide range of human emotions and sociopolitical inferences and even religious persuasion. I have enjoyed this work as it is stimulating. I wish you love and peace my dear friend. Jon Michael
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/17/2013 4:32:00 AM
this surely spurred much thought among all that read it
budd
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/17/2013 12:45:56 AM
apart from the incisive lines themselves, Axilea,
the generous (and, to me, deliberate) spacing
between them encourages the reader to read between;
since the images are pithy each reader will read
in his or her particular way and conjure up the blanks
that need follow;
'mother tongue eradicated' suggest much to me
but i shan't elaborate; 'sacred goddess killed by anorexia'
elicits strong response, too, and 'glossolalia of pain'
is truly insightful
but the poem is more than its parts, its impact is pronounced;
there's a shift not just in economic weight but in cultural
awareness and in human focus
kudos!
john
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/16/2013 9:10:38 PM
Powerful poem, Axilea. Speaks to me of frustration and of exploding technology causing more problems rather than less, and anger, yes, and a very visceral pain.
Chip BERGERON
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/16/2013 10:50:15 AM
Without reading the others right now, I remain clueless as to your purpose to this poem.
Upon your comment, I find that you have created a list of words that comes to mind. My mind? Maybe not.
Contrary to Jerry in interpreting the image, but understanding from his previous work how he thinks, I would say that the blinders on the West come from our culture that thinks of itself as superior and therefore blind to the reality of most people in the East who are far more like us than different. By the same token, those from the East are often cloaked in their appearance by outside influences that control their every being except what can be seen in their eyes.
Ron
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/16/2013 8:21:33 AM
Thank you Charlie and Roger for finding your way through the maze (stream of consciousness) in such a vivid way. And many thanks to Jerry for exemplifying the last line of this "list of words". ;)
Axilea
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/16/2013 4:56:06 AM
I understand none of what your list of words mean. Well, I do to a point. You said, "the photo is a good one, but I don't want it to restrict the meaning of the poem." But the photo IS the poem as far as I am concerned. The east goes into battle with eyes wide open, looking ahead for the prize, while the west closes its eyes to the evil being perpetuated.
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/15/2013 10:20:40 PM
I think every time I read this, I'll feel something different. Here's what's running through my mind right now: I am (and/or)we are bulimic consumers (and/or) pain devours and then regurgitates us. This is all done with words--thoughts, written, spoken, broken promises... (and/or) the ones we can't understand, even though our bodies/minds/souls are screaming them at us, killing us even. It is homicide! (and/or) cannibalism? --Charlie
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/15/2013 6:51:00 PM
listening in runs contrary to (stereo)typical label(ia) in (fe)mystical thought as a jeremiadumbration of meaning (de)mystifies to (l)end clarity in a po(em)lemical of major proportions tunes its(elf) to the minor end of the pent-up-tonic scale... edgy and all too (sur)real... It's syncing in...
Roger
New Western Syntax (Poetry) - 2/15/2013 6:29:44 PM
This is a great write Axilea, THis is open for many discussion. ~ Morgan
Grow (Poetry) - 2/14/2013 5:03:42 PM
Learning to project herself more and more...
Deborah
Grow (Poetry) - 2/14/2013 4:21:35 PM
~Axilea~
To sing to the day.. true red motives of the heart.
Beautifully captured ever to "Grow"
Lady Mary Ann
Grow (Poetry) - 2/12/2013 1:08:01 PM
The underscoring of his paralysis as compounded by her vibrant pushing of the curtains to let in life, light, and her gesture, gesture, posture-ing is almost like religious ritual, mantra - as if their very (in)actions can bring about their competing desires. This is very finely articulated and sketched for us and the counter-tensions are absolutely palpable: such evenly-matched wills compete here in an almost psychotically compulsive way. I can so relate to this as a mind-game although you have given us such a well-defined visceral picture.
Love:
His character is barely alive on paper
an inhabitant of dusty drawers
Top drawer as always, Axilea! :) xx
Grow (Poetry) - 2/12/2013 1:05:33 AM
the woman realises her own strength
and no longer under the chauvinist yoke
opens the curtains to self-expression
and self-assertion...that takes some doing
for many women and for millions, especially
on the continent where i live, it is impossible
but there are small improvements, but only small
a fine declaration, Axilea
john
ps: and yes i accept all credit cards!
Grow (Poetry) - 2/11/2013 3:35:01 PM
I love the way that you connect the woman and the speaker in the end...VERY artfully and heartfully done clever girl!
I also like how you weaved in the geisha. So often women are bound. So often, without the ESCAPE!!!
Blessings,
Christine xx
Grow (Poetry) - 2/11/2013 11:49:02 AM
I sense a woman growing stronger and a man growing weaker. Or is it women and men?
Ron
Grow (Poetry) - 2/11/2013 9:31:32 AM
very well penned control is its own judgement eventually
budd
Grow (Poetry) - 2/11/2013 7:54:13 AM
what a lovely poem. i wrote a similar one years back called the passion paradox. growing pains are hard. it's difficult; but you find a way to accept things, and make some decisions that are good for you. she seems like she's on the brink--such is life.
Grow (Poetry) - 2/11/2013 7:34:53 AM
I like the small print for the word control -- guys that are controlling often have small minds and write very small.
Grow (Poetry) - 2/11/2013 12:11:55 AM
Reads like a scene from a movie I'd love to watch, sophisticated and beautifully written!
Grow (Poetry) - 2/10/2013 8:21:57 PM
oh well drawn, well-read, motive and all... brings to mind a dramatic monologue I'm sure you know and love: "My Last Duchess" by Robert Browning. Deliciously wrought... oh, you are in fine form with this one, Axilea.
To Yourself (Poetry) - 2/1/2013 12:39:05 PM
Brought a tear to my eyes and yet an even bigger smile, I felt every word...
Eidetic (Poetry) - 2/1/2013 12:37:18 PM
Truly beautiful and heartfelt!
With Skin (Poetry) - 1/16/2013 7:00:30 AM
Very interesting -- have you started to look deeper within- removed the shell and seen the real beauty- the contents is more valuable then the context.
stan
the alston x'perience
Eidetic (Poetry) - 1/10/2013 1:37:40 PM
reaffirmation of who we are, who our lover, loved one is - not unlike gazing into a mirror, yet recalling them ourselves, eidetic-ally. Perception of self is at times agonizing, yet always a useful tool to audit, who we are - a poem to initiate analysis and ponder what is revealed - an enjoyable read for Axilia- I wish you love and peace my dear friend - Jon Michael
Eidetic (Poetry) - 1/8/2013 6:16:40 PM
Faded love and the photo memories to bring it all back ... And so palpably!
Eidetic (Poetry) - 1/7/2013 11:04:41 AM
You have taught me a new word, Axilea: eidetic. Thank you. And thank you also for sharing this expressive offering of love. I am painfully aware of what love gone astray feels like right now. Love and best wishes to you,
Regis
Eidetic (Poetry) - 1/6/2013 7:35:33 PM
The thing is there are more reasons for sadness than lost romance, and in one way or other they hit us all. You have therefore written a poem that just about everybody cabn identify with, Axilea. Thank you so much....
Chip Bergeron
Eidetic (Poetry) - 1/6/2013 10:28:41 AM
I'm with Christine on this one. I read it various times, and could never tell whether you were talking to the reader, a well or once-loved relative, a lover or your old or new self. Any how you read it, the conclusion in warm and embracing, repentant, forgiving, all-inclusive, understanding and well, loving. --Charlie
Eidetic (Poetry) - 1/5/2013 1:02:04 PM
Such a clever poem, Axilea, and amazingly, one that can be read in a number of different ways.
Starkly different meanings... and yet one and the same whether I read it as a woman who is talking to her past lover, or whether I read it as a woman who is looking in the mirror, or perhaps even a picture of her former self...Clever girl! So profound.
Blessings,
Christine
To Yourself (Poetry) - 1/5/2013 9:06:18 AM
self perception is a fascinating subject - the id and ego dancing cheek to cheek or gyrating in an ancient war dance - self esteem is indeed cognitive to a degree, the trick is to effectively assess our innate abilities with the person we are attempting to project ourselves to be - a powerful force acts upon these personality issues, love - for it is the most powerful an arguably the most important of all values and emotions - so it is vital to be, "To Yourself" true - another tantalizing poem to be enjoyed Axilia - I wish you love and peace my dear friend, Jon Michael
