Friday, July 20, 2007

Synesthesia


First a wink of color,
Then, a song floats through the air.
I heard a the blue notes of a clarinet,
And it brought me to despair,
As a burst of red sounding horns
Brought forth a glowing grin,
While violins take the harmony,
As my grandfather sips his gin.
But that is how the genre, jazz,
Floats in color to my ear.
When my grandfather and I sit and listen,
It is amazing to hear.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Music that makes me wonder

Maddie said...

Elise, that is so beautiful. so perfect.

The It Blog said...

i like it a lot it flows really well ... but i cant think of a title, sorry. maybe something to do with how the music & colors come together?

Maria said...

That sounds really good! I like how the rhymes don't really affect the rhythm too much (because otherwise the poem can get really screwed up.)
This poem is reminding me of this book called A Mango-Shaped Space where the narrator has synesthesia, a neurological condition where you see color with certain sounds and things like that.
I love jazz, so I love this poem!

Elise said...

THANKS MARIA!

Gina said...

YAY SYNESTHESIA!!!