[stylist] Touching Rainbow

[Barbara Hammel]

I did write the synesthesia poem.  But since I don't see any colors any 
more--I never could see well enough to see the rainbow (and many other 
things because I really only had light and color perception)--I've thought 
it would be so cool to have a t-shirt or sweatshirt--blue of course--that 
had this type of rainbow on it since many times I can't tell by feeling what 
is on my shirt.
Barbara




Writing free verse is like playing tennis with the net down.--Robert Frost
-----Original Message----- 
From: Jacqueline Williams
Sent: Monday, April 15, 2013 2:16 PM
To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'
Subject: Re: [stylist] Touching Rainbow

Barbara,
I just love the concept of touching the rainbow, and your "feel" of all of
the colors. It is vivid and personal in  your interpretations of the "whys"
such as corduroy, and silk, etc.
As one who suggested this subject, you have outdone yourself!
I had thought that you were the one who had written the poem about the
unusual condition called "synesthesia." If so, does not that involve seeing
letters of the alphabet, and music notes in color? If you can do that while
never having seen a color, why not the rainbow.
Given my memory, It may not be you that wrote that wonderful poem about
synesthesia. Or perhaps I do not truly understand the condition.
At any rate, it has nothing to do with the quality of your poem for
inspiration and translation of the world of the blind.
Thanks for bringing your thoughts to all of us.
Jackie

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Barbara
Hammel
Sent: Saturday, April 06, 2013 5:05 PM
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: [stylist] Touching ARainbow

No essay was forthcoming so it did end up a poem.
Barbara

  TOUCHING A RAINBOW

  By Barbara Hammel



Some people paint the rainbow,

Whether stylized or true,

Yet others paint it Roy G Biv

Or red and yellow and blue.



But whether it is in the sky

Or in a frame beneath some glass,

Or crayoned so one can feel the wax,

Or even in the dew on grass,



There is no rainbow I can see.

I must accept the words you say.

"Please make me one so I can know,"

They thought but never found a way.



Construction paper strips should do,

(They all felt just the same.)

What is a color any way?

To me it's just a name.



I've thought of this for years, but I

Am not the crafty sort,

I have the great ideas

But in the doing I fall short.



So get inside my head with me

And on a quest we'll go,

But leave your eyes behind today,

We're going to touch the rainbow.



The tin foil sky is smooth and cool,

And cotton ball clouds can be found.

Some are stretched and lay out thin

Others are left fluffy and round.



Our rainbow's made from fabrics

(You may have chose yours differently,)

But let's explore the textures

I have chosen mine to be.



The red streak is of corduroy,

(Don't ask why. I do not know.)

The orange one is made of silk,

That cotton is the yellow.



Green's a stripe of seersucker,

Satin represents the blue,

Indigo is of soft velour,

The fleece is the violet hue.



C s c s s v f has

Not the ring of Roy G Biv

But paper strips or wax or glue

No hint to color do they give.



Now, as you slip back to your world,

Leaving me alone inside my head,

That elusive rainbow's not so much

A mystery word, just something said.



And now my little poem is through.

I have broadened your horizons? No?

Colors have been at your fingertips with

The gift of touching a rainbow.





Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance. -- Carl Sandburg


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