REPORTOIRE OF THEMES
improvised
performance
with
variations
according
to mood
a
synaesthesia
of opportunities
in
meaningful
interpretatIons
devoted
to
absolutely
quiet
orderly
security
&
compatibility
reflected
drifting
orchestrated
combinations
attesting
to
immediacy
in
virtuosity
with
harmonic
moments
with
feeling
motivates
personality
A QUESTION OF STYLE
a sovereign
literary
occurrence
magnificently
survival
of
inner
values
now
rediscovered
heyday
prospering
creations
inwardly-looking
characteristics
ecstatic
fragrant
synaesthesia
of
simultaneous
senses
initiated
possibilities
Nine Inch Nails play Handel’s Messiah
Gauguin paints Guernica bare chested
war poets fall in love with what never was
a Gingko tree blossoms at Hiroshima’s swords
into ploughshares condor legions into peace doves
cacophony synaesthesia proverbially composed
"Mother’s Milk"
I don’t know -
what would you have me say?
Life is a gourmand perfume
rolling along on the notes of air
intoxicating musk a jubilee
music you breathe and reign in
words lactonic heaven scent
stimulating the beginning and the end
in synaesthesia the let-down presents
succulent life, a moment brief and swift
a hint of warm peppered cinnamon
with gunshot sparks recalcitrant pink
a straight shot from the heady accord first off
hard points from mother’s breast rouge the plot
we drink it all in
life is the sweetest illusion
bittersweet and burnt bent
we are all drunk to it;
before we begin,
we begin again,
we are swallowed large
into this small life
like an unknown mystery
karmic charms chime in
fragrant and in fragrant notes
recalcitrant journeys
roads less taken
sweet and bitter almonds
we hear the distant bells chime
we sign off reluctantly
to only begin it all again
Candide Diderot. ‘25
demi lunes
ascending the height of pleasure
tantra crept in
through the cracks of reality
a rainbow crescent eclipsed all pain
turned the suffering of suffering
into a medium for growth and change
chakras mingled in orange and indigo
blue and red composed violet glows
a yellow hue infused
navel gazing at its best
her green eyes mesmerized
the radiance of togetherness
created a full spectrum
of mind body and soul
like children they painted
on the canvas of their skins
as tidal waves of intimate warmth
ebbed and flowed
to the sound of music in their heart
when synaesthesia exploded all senses
all darkness disappeared
and white stars watched over their union
two demi lunes became
one lunar globe
tickled by sunlight of compassion
caressed infinite peace
24th October 2024
"The Infrared"
Rainbow holds the white like ultra violet speaks white’s dark mind;
synaesthesia soothes the silence, the infrared shows its fairer self, in time.
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Dance Dance” by Thomas Blanchard
https://youtu.be/V42QNlefvjE
Synaesthesia is hard to say and somewhat hard to understand,
Not a disease nor a disorder, but I experience it first hand,
Like the sounds, tastes, smells and colours that can be felt by a band,
The music inspires and engulfs every nerve, every feeling, every gland,
Feeling like a lettuce from the feeling of a winter morning air,
The grass tastes so fresh and the scent fills my tummy completely unaware,
Seeing white and tasting air, this is something thats sort of rare,
Numbers and names colour coded, no other condition could compare,
Every taste has a colour, every colour has a taste,
Sometimes overwhelmed I need to set limits and a pace,
As it is not the first one here who wins the race,
Though it is different, this condition I now embrace.
Putting on my makeup is challenging
I have Tardive Dyskinesia
I'll blot my lipstick while babbling
Putting on my makeup is challenging
While adding my eye shadow balancing
Cover up glided though Synaesthesia
Putting on my makeup is challenging
I have Tardive Dyskinesia
Tear drops roll down my cheeks.
Blessed with mirror-touch synaesthesia!
Claircognizant empaths - inflame my aphasia.
I know, I know - the die is cast!
Eh! Still words - pierce through my silent heart.
Leave me – leave me!
I need time to talk with my soul.
For no one knows – why!
Why emotions welled up so high?
How would you know - the reason behind my sigh!
And why such deep grief and frown?
And why the frozen sea melted down?
And the pain behind my collapsing castle!
How intense is my tussle!
Yeah! How would you know?
What I just lost was my holy grail!
All I need is solitude to sail!
Winter finally moves his lumpen sluggish weight,
Spring is like a shy dryad shivering in his arms
Wind's whippets droop to trifling whine
Sullen rain hisses to a grizzle.
tiny fruit buds swell enough to moisten lips.
First daffodil maidens preen, bright faces so fair!
Chattering swallows check granite grey mortared mansion.
Duck naps snug, beak a chest --- gull floats overhead.
Longer days mean I must leave my snuggly, sleepy daze,
slightly more light; work energies reappear
poetry is laid aside in favour of trimming trees
seething solar heating sound, signals dimly smiling sun.
seed packets eagerly spread out – What to plant this season?
Suddenly, more bees aflight – our crops will be alright!
Another cycle begins!
1) Anthropomorphism 2) Simile 3) Metaphor 4) onomatopoeia
5)Synaesthesia 6) Personification 7) Sensory Imagery
8) Ellipsis 9) Homophone 10) Caesura 11) Pun
12) Alliteration 13) Rhetorical Question 14)Internal Rhyme
15) Truism
Written 20th August for Line Gautier Contest - A Litany of Poetic Devices
Reminiscing a Future
Taste of my Teddy bear suckling comfort
Cool button in his ear on my tongue
Sound of silence of parachute’s silk
The nothingness of free fall before landing
Sight of an Octopus squirting ink onto my
Diving mask blinding with glimpses of vision
Touch of cow’s dung heating a humble
Wall sheltering compassionate feelings
Smell of blotting paper on a fountain
Pen’s script reflecting short-lived fragrance
Synaesthesia? Nonsense? Common Sense? Sixth Sense?
Ethereal Incense of mind soul and body transcending?
I taste childhood
I hear freedom
I see no delusions
I touch equality
I smell passion
I sense...Forever
26th July 2018
My Five Senses
For someone with synaesthesia,
I am just quite dumbfounded,
In understanding all my five senses,
That leaves me buzzing, ungrounded!
You see, it’s not very clear,
As to why this does happen,
But I see, hear, smell, taste and touch things,
As if they’re quite apparent.
I see things in color,
Like words, numbers, and notes.
Which often leaves me in a blunder,
To quote or unquote!
I taste more than just food,
Like air, space and mood,
And often compare it,
To a summer in June.
I hear most things out loud,
Like smell touch and crowds,
For where there is one, the others are around.
And often they all blend together somehow.
So, what’s simply the norm for her, them, and you,
Are just all my five senses, demanding a cue.
And if ever you meet me or another as similar,
Don’t bother to question, because for us it's quite familiar.
Date of poem 25 July 2018
Colour hides in a whitely glow
every colour we’ve ever known
Reflective rays a spectrum show
Coloured days, names and numbers
See the world through coloured wonders.
Think in colour, don’t you?
Your name clearly blue
Synaesthesia your my life
Colouring my every thought
Spectrum white and every sort
Close my eyes and you are there
Years of coloured thoughts to share.
Your synaesthesia danced the air, my feet the floor
And bounced again and with a scream and more
I fell down to my knees and screeched my dance
Against walls and unseen windows without a glance
Beyond the yearning to charm public I cannot see
Your tone atonal to my shins and knees
In utter up-tempo perspiration centrifuges tears...
Music intrusive within my skull burst wide
So many visions and words floating inside
I need to be where once I used to be
Your style misunderstood, they did forget
My mind remembers, if my body would let
Me dance your dance instead of forging dreams
I sob in silence, bursting at the seams
Tears immersing in this endless agonizing sea
But with eyes closed my feet are at will
My dreams rule, my body in this bed lies still
You blended genius with near untimely sin,
Alexander Scriabin...
***
February 13, 2017
Colours Perfuse
Bluebell tinkers in soft mellow waters
splashing in her fantasy and dreams
Tolling oceans flicker chakra’s paths
ring truths and wondrous melodies
Crowned indigo with chanted violet
Peace in her gypsy’s carriage’s heart
She hears the colours smells shades
of pastels tastes aquamarine touches
All lapis lazuli synaesthesia molten
cores when she sees her crystal vision
Comes flows cascades crescendos
compiles her senses on life’s tapestry
A seeker finder clairsentient spirit medium
Bluebell slashes blues and brushes muse
27th January 2017
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