Synaesthesia

"SYNAESTHESIA" The Rose was burning long before she was Green The Synaesthete placed his brush stroke On his future dreams Long before she was Green The Synaesthete dreamed of him Walking barefoot through the buried Rust and rustling burnished Ochre leaves of his foggy schemes Painting a new story on torn White Canvas sheets The Synaesthete dreamed of him Munster castles and Celtic Moss, mystic hidden Caves where worms like diamonds glow Painting a new story on torn white Canvas sheets Blarney babbled over Rose, like a raging Ocean the tempest fire flowed Munster castles and Celtic Moss, mystic hidden Caves where worms like diamonds glow Irish her dark hair dripping Blood Red Heart Burnt Rose Blarney babbled over Rose, like a raging Ocean the tempest fire flowed The Synaesthete ran his fingers over Autumn’s legs, walked beside her on The Lost Untaken Forgotten Road Irish her dark hair dripping Blood Red Heart Burnt Rose The Synaesthete smiled at her as he peered into her windows The Synaesthete ran his fingers over Autumn's legs, walked beside her on The Lost Untaken Forgotten Road With Season’s palette in hand, ran his fingers knowingly over Autumn’s nose, kissed her silently, stood with her at the turning of the cold dark Cross Roads, Winter is fast approaching, they must find somewhere warm to go The Synaesthete smiled at her as he peered into her windows Frosted Emeralds twin glacial sharp edged glistening, Winter fires naked truth, Novitiate conspires to overthrow Winter is fast approaching, they must find somewhere warm to go A long forgotten lost Munster King and a burning Assassin carrying a loaded Cross Bow. (Lovejoy-Burton/May 2018) “The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery.” Anaïs Nin “I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger as reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.” Anaïs Nin “You don't find love, it finds you. It's got a little bit to do with destiny, fate, and what's written in the stars.” Anaïs Nin “People living deeply have no fear of death.” Anaïs Nin "My mind's a minefield. To traverse it and make it out in one piece is a victory I'm trying to avoid. Let me load my paint gun with more colour. Reloading artillery now." Leanne Lovejoy-Burton Art - "The Illusion of Knowledge", Ben Stack "Daybreak in a Perfect World", Ben Stack "The Mystery Deepens", Ben Stack 1. http://benstack.com.au/ 2. http://www.wentworthgalleries.com.au/ben-stack-art/ Style of Poem - Pantoum gone askew