[stylist] the synesthesia poem ... finally!

[Bridgit Pollpeter]

So it's not specific to people who've always been blind or those
*totals*? So can sighted people see like this too? Like Chris, I don't
have this ability, and I barely understand it, smile. I assumed it was
something unique to those who have never been able to see visually, or
those who lost their sight young enough. I'm obviously wrong.

Bridgit

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Robert
Leslie Newman
Sent: Thursday, October 17, 2013 7:59 AM
To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'
Subject: Re: [stylist] the synesthesia poem ... finally!


Barbara

I too see as you describe.  

Good job helping others to see as we see.


-----Original Message-----
From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Bridgit
Pollpeter
Sent: Wednesday, October 16, 2013 10:14 PM
To: 'Writer's Division Mailing List'
Subject: Re: [stylist] the synesthesia poem ... finally!

Barbara,

You always have a lot of visual elements to your poetry as well as
something to ponder. You take a deeper look at life. Thanks for sharing.

Bridgit

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Barbara
Hammel
Sent: Wednesday, October 16, 2013 9:53 PM
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: [stylist] the synesthesia poem ... finally!


Remember last spring when I wrote that pantoum on synesthesia?  Well,
here's a basic description of some of what goes on in my head.

  SYNESTHESIA
  By Barbara Hammel

The colors float in intricate ballet,
Weaving and unweaving a rainbow,
>From the darkest night of letterr D,
To J, as bright as new-fallen snow.

And all the oranges, pinks, reds, blues, Purples, browns, yellows, greys
and greens Swirl majestically with every word, Each sentence bringing
forth new scenes.

"Why are you so good at anagrams?"
When letters are read or told to me
The unfamiliar color pattern
Whirls till a familiar one I see.

When called, they lightly trip to center stage, And share the spotlight
till I set them free, Then back into their proper place they go, Always
neatly arranged from A to Z.

The numbers don't perform their dance so well, They stand in wrong
formation and miss cues -- Perhaps this is because Math.'s not my thing
-- But they're also adorned in rainbow hues.

Is there any wonder now of my love
Of rainbows and how colors are wed?
You see, I need to be surrounded
With as much color as is in my head.

Some days I wish I could open my brain,
And spill out the excess colors in the air.
Writer's block for me is just so bright, Too many colored thoughts are
floating there

Weaving and unweaving a rainbow,
>From the purest white of letter J,
To D, as dark as the darkest night,
But I'd be lost if all the colors went away.



Writing free verse is like playing tennis with the net down.--Robert
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