|
| Reviewed by Matthew Wright |
9/2/2009 |
|
| Really like this one. Creates some strong images. Nice use of rhyme too. |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by J'nia Fowler |
8/23/2009 |
|
| A very powerful piece here. The third last stanza is particularly fine, speaking volumes in such a few lines. Exceptional. J'nia |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Dale Clark |
7/2/2009 |
|
Powerful piece, very good work, it speaks volumes of hope
and life! So inspiring! |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Ronald Hull |
6/22/2009 |
|
Even the armor of pain, weathers in time.
Ron |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Cryssa C |
6/17/2009 |
|
Wow! I lied... This is definitely my favorite of yours. This is just...superb! I can so totally relate to this analogy of an old metal plate.
Thank you.
Cryssa |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Elizabeth Price |
6/16/2009 |
|
| Awesome. Love the metaphor. Life is painful and you've got the guts to live it. Bravo. Liz |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Dawn Wilson |
6/16/2009 |
|
| Such imagery, strength and power in this Axilea. I want to say one of your best, but I'm a fan of just about everything you write. This goes into my library. |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Charlie |
6/15/2009 |
|
Axilea: dreaming of OZ
And Ozma begat Ozletta
And Ozletta begat Oxina,
And Oxina begat Axilea
And for the space of 150 years there was peace in the Land of Oz,
mostly, that is, because in the Land of the Winkies where the Yellow men dwell, there was sadness and decay...
his oilcan two steps away...
And for all the fact that his heart kept ticking,
(one could see this through his rust-rotted chest)
And for all that the wind kept wispering
(It was very sunny, but he did his best)...
The body was still....
And she dreamed that she was he,
and that her heart was merely a clock keeping time--
ticking out words-- finding a rhyme,
and that her soul was wind-weary
and covered with rust.
But rough gingham on a sunburned arm
can sometimes move in such a way
(in a warm-warm wind)
that awakens...
And certain things come to life again,
like dreams, meshing with reality.
The warm wind brings the scent of a faintly stinky dog to her...
"Toto!" She calls. And he and the wind... they lick her wounds together...
--Charlie
|
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by L. Figgins |
6/14/2009 |
|
That warm wind that flows from your words is felt in this soul. Hard to destroy the human spirit, Axilea. One's essence, especially that of a woman, is to embrace life--and that requires the capacity to hope...what your last lines reveal in spite of the pain. Very fine...
Lin |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by jude forese |
6/14/2009 |
|
not learning from mistakes is a wound infecting the soul forever, even for compassionate souls ...
powerful imagery and psycho-intensive motif ... |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Gene Williamson |
6/14/2009 |
|
I admire the strength and hope in your writing, Axilea...
here the release from the prison of painful memories captured
so skillfully in these powerful lines:
Yet she will let
her own skin breathe
and shiver
with the morning truth...
Your writing as always a rewarding experience.
-gene.
|
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by John Flanagan |
6/14/2009 |
|
Axilea,
The scars of living we all bear and often artificial pains that deny us experiencing the real ones, "vital pain and joy"
This challenges me and makes me sit up straight, good poetry does that.
John |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Liana Margiva |
6/14/2009 |
|
| EXCELLENT!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS YOUR BEST POEM!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Holly Harbridge |
6/14/2009 |
|
| The discription, perfect, the truth painful, but it is the truth. Excellent, love Holly |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Regis Auffray |
6/14/2009 |
|
A deeply meaningful and expressive poem, Axilea. Thank you for sharing it. Love and best wishes,
Regis |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner |
6/14/2009 |
|
So sad, Axilea, and so perfectly penned - well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Amber Moonstone |
6/14/2009 |
|
So many people live with deep pain and hurt. Your poem touches those places but soothes them also.
Nicely done, good to see you writing here on the den again. Have missed you very much!
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V" |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Felix Perry |
6/14/2009 |
|
The emotional flow of sadness and perhaps a little dispair at what time and age can do to one's soul pulls on the heart strings of the reader. I felt like I was actually listening to you do the narrative on this in person so strong was the imagery. Well done Axilea,
hugs
Fee |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Ed Matlack |
6/13/2009 |
|
| Damn if that doesn't look like my skin nowadays after being in the sun & getting burned...When I was quite young I lived on the beach, no shirt & cut off jeans and my skin was as brown as that metal, but now all I do it seems is burn...I hate getting older, as I think this poem does speak of...Ed |
|
|
|
|
| Reviewed by Patrick Granfors |
6/13/2009 |
|
| I hope the warm wind bypasses the steel and revives the heart so it may feel again. New wounds will be endured but old ones must be forgotten,or perhaps forgiven. The soul will thrive. I like this poem. Patrick |
|
|
|
Share
Print
Save