I saw all my colors in spirit, before my eyes.
Wild, almost crazy lines were sketched in front of me.
~ Wassily Kandinsky
Is it a bird? I ask trying to decipher rational from naught,
And then I weep turquoise imploring a God
I cannot feel, cannot touch ~
But to see sound and hear color is a gift
Of spirit ~
Shall we soar with yellow trumpets
And red violins, blue cellos,
Or stay earthbound
Trying to make sense of a bird
Where only essence exists?
NOTE 1: Kandinsky experienced colors as having distinct sounds; he associated yellow with a high trumpet, blue with cello or organ, and red with a violin.
NOTE 2: Native Americans, particularly in the Southwest, revered turquoise as a sacred, living stone—often called the "Sky Stone"—believed to be a gift from the spirits that bridged heaven, earth, and water.
Art theorist was Wassily Kandinsky
so visual music is what we see
Vibrations emanate from his soul
picture perfect always his goal
Wassily Kandinsky made his art sing
the music therein made it ring
But some take the streaks of blobs
as an act of random dobs*
*https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Composition_VI
Wassily Kandinsky-
symphonic harmony painterly put
So many colours in our world
each having a life of it’s own
all so mysterious in it’s life
signally marked as they’re known
Each one has it’s own warmth
it’s tone with a singular heat
fighting off all that coldly attack
so to stay on course real neat!
All have their own unique beauty
so sweetly silk ever so finely pure
they’ve all been here since creation
all through the years able to endure
Each colour filled with mystery aglow
makes one wonder all about it
so transforming and transfixed to you
into our world each one perfect fit
('Each colour lives by it's mysterious life.' - Wassily Kandinsky, Russian artist )(1866-1944)
A pre-lit Christmas tree sparkles the entrance
Monet, Van Gough, and Wassily Kandinsky prints
adorn the walls of her sitting room
a dozen painted roses sit in a faux crystal vase
and the smell of apple pie lingers in the air
coming from her Scentsy candle warmer
resting upon her replica baby grand piano
The seconds tick loudly from the tree house looking cuckoo clock
as I wait
patiently I wait
down the stairs she comes
waltzing ever so gracefully
ever so elegant
in her bright flowing yellow dress
accented by beautiful costume jewelry
my heart skips a beat
as we kiss hello
and I know
yes I know
This love is real
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.