Month: July 2015

Synaesthesia

Often, I think adding context to what I try to expressing will – somehow – extract appreciation from at least one person who reads or experiences it.
Why should I shape your experiences? Where is the joy in having a fruit eaten for you?
its juices extracted and regurgitated. Tainted and tinted with the perception of another.
What I intend and what is received by the reading may not be the same.
There is some fun   – perhaps – in wading through this small stream in the presence of one’s own company.
Thus, I shall remain tranquil and be satisfied with the reading.


Synaesthesia 


In moments of silence
I converse with the multitude.
We revel in the sensory,
No why’s or wherefore.
First, tastes blossoms
My tongue , heavy with
The nectar of summer’s flower.
As it blooms my vision alights
O’er awed in its fullness
Colours flits across a rippling surface
Suppleness flowing into taut awakenings
Brilliant green melding into cerulean blues
A synaesthetic orchestra.
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