Tag Archives: Synesthesia

That feeling – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: Geralt – Nerve cells – pixabay.com

“Take every breath as an event.” Arzum Uzun

That Feeling

Blustery wind rolled off the ocean
into my skin with whispers of cool
hauntingly possessing me to the full,
and I carried it all day wrapped up as
electric juice sluicing through my
pulsing veins in rhythms of blue,
while the sky shone paisley and I
was iridescently alive to everything.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


Filed under awareness, carefree, Free Verse, life, poem, quote, Synesthesia

The Yellow Thrum – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Grace has invited us to once again look at synesthesia, this time music as colour.

dVerse Poets – Meeting the Bar – Synesthesia

Photo: pixabay.com

“Although I see colours in every song, it’s the artist put his (sic) heart and soul into that produce the best images.” Melissa McCracken

The Yellow Thrum

The prologue for a country pastorale
was a warm summer's picnic basket
where the oranges dislodged and fell
into the sky a new palette which walked
like a bass line thrumming deep orange
right down my spine a glow turning
crimson with vibrations lighting up
the grey neutral neural centre with
a blistering violin solo so thin it
caught fire across the parchment of 
dots to be joined in a minor key, 
while the coda became a sombre 
capitulation to the merging rainbow
pulsating backbeat defibrillating my
plexus in bursts of visceral orange and 
yellow treble cross talking me all the way
to ecstatic floods of warm mood in C.

©Paul Vincent Cannon


Filed under Free Verse, music, passion, poem, quote, Synesthesia

Spiced As Wise – a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Grace is hosting Meeting the Bar and she has invited us to write a poem working with grapheme colour synesthesia.

dVerse Poets – Meeting The Bar

Photo: unsplash.com

“The colour yellow is a mystical experience shared by everybody.” Tom Stoppard

Spiced As Wise

Orla wandered a new 
beginning trusting herself to this 
new path with an optimism born 
of moonlight where she yellowed 
a glow from her very centre 
that radiated so golden,
spiced as wise cumin to be 
lavishly bestowed on all the 
suns in the orbit of her generous 
aching flames bursting upon the 
scene beyond mellow fields,
seeking beyond hue to the
crackling of possibility.

©Paul Vincent Cannon

Note: I am stronger at hearing and feeling colour than seeing it in letters. The name Orla is Celtic and can be translated as Golden Princess. O is my starting point as O is yellow and so it goes.


Filed under Free Verse, mindfulness, passion, poem, quote, Synesthesia