REALMS OF REASON, INSANITY, MAGIC & MACABRE

Don't Look Back

Inspired write from another syneasthete - February is Syneasthesia Month (for my birthday) I will be interviewed and sharing the spotlight with Joseph Zeppardo and Shannon Lyons (if all goes well) - I'll announce it here. Sitting here listening to a cacophony of melodies telling me what my story is. ALONE, the color one sees when they close their eyes with a faint fever developing beneath long feathery lashes - Lips a shade of coral blush that tastes like sweet honey fresh from the hive. OMG yes, I'm a words person - Certain words especially have such a luxurious and beautiful velvet color - Metaphor is a midnight blue and I want to reach out and touch it. Lucidity is a word that changes color as you move it with the light. When someone calls me "Your Grace" I feel it in my bones and it feels soft, like kiss - just close enough that I can feel his breath against my cheek as he withdraws and offers his hand to cup my face, I become weak and ...

You have made it over to the other side safely, I see. I hear you moaning in my ear, trying to find your voice. I did not call you to me here, you came to talk to me. So, why not tell me now, was it an accident or a choice? Did you really think I’d wait for you to give me a peek? Inside of your thoughts, inside of that insane mind? I have witnessed it all, I still see the havoc you wreak. It was never hidden well, you’re missing parts left behind. I knew you would return to me, the only one who can hear You screaming to be heard, silenced with whispers of a name. If you lean in and paint with words, pictures might appear, There are no images of those you forgive or those you blame. So, who would you like to speak to directly? Or no one at all? Are you practicing for the moment you have something to say? You shouldn’t have to watch your step, there is nowhere to fall, No one will ever again answer the phone to come out and play. ...

There is a place, just beyond reason, past the moon and stars, beyond what the eye sees and the mind comprehends, it is deeper than dreams, further than the reach of common sense and the droning of lies told by people who teach us lies and tell us untruths, (vipers with deadly poisonous bites disguised in duplicities), a place that opens its door with one knock from those who seek wisdom and come with benevolence and humility - ‘fore we will be standing at the feet of gods and goddesses whose only purpose is to impart justice and wisdom to whomever they allow to enter in. This place has no physical items within, yet you can be seated if you like. I prefer to sit comfortably on a soft pillow for the duration. Because I am female, a goddess will approach and as she comes into view, I notice that she is both clothed and then, as I blink, she is bare, naked, open and unashamed. It is my choice to see her either way. I choose to see her bare and totally exposed. It remi...

Hello again, to no one there, You’re the only ones that really care. I can feel you inside of me, here, where you listen so patiently. Your visions appear behind my eyes Slowly appear - then quickly dies Like forgotten lies Whispers spoken to no one there. I am lucid in all my dreams, Astral projection laser beams, Looking for something I will not find. It remains back there, inside my mind. I know not when and I know not where I am  reminded,  no one is there... To share my dreams. Then at once, something appeared, Nothing welcomed; nothing feared, Someone speaking, they made no sound, Someone searching, but nothing found. The only thing that could be shared, Could not speak, no one there, no one cared. Something stirred then disappeared. I screamed out, one single word, “You won’t listen, I’m not heard?, I can save you from what you’ve become, Return those feelings where you are numb." The message was...

After the Bomb M TERESA CLAYTON·SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 2016 The city looked like a trash heap for as far as the eye could see. Buildings no longer stood tall and proud, announcing the names of businesses and what had once been representative of the many people who gave the better part of their lives to the success of those companies. No windows to reflect the time of day as the sun made its way from east to west and no doors to welcome customers and clients when they came to call. Bones. Just bones of city life. There were no cries for help, no screams of terror, not a sound came from this landscape. Where were the birds, the squirrels in the park in the center of this district and, as I stood there taking it all in, what district is this? There was no delineation between townships, there was no way to tell one neighborhood from the others. Bodies lie among the heap of stones, but were burned beyond recognition. I couldn't tell a child from an adult, a black man...

Standing ‘midst the shadows, ‘neath river’s birch, I remained motionless stealth but for man’s smell having found her, finally, after two days search, the woman with a story that men are afraid to tell. Long ago, when I was a wee boy, pretending to be a knight fighting off dragons and creatures unknown, my mother would take leave and come running to me,telling me to never wander off far from our home. “But, why,” I would ask her, “What lies hidden in the wood?" She remained silent, insisting I mind her every word, the warning seemed desperate, something out there was no good, it was not her words, but her fear and angst that I heard. As I grew up and became a man, I looked at the forest wall,wondering once more, as I often did, what was it beyond the trees? Next to my fire, just after sundown, I heard a familiar call. T’was the cry of the wolves, was I to fear sounds like these? Among the crickets and tree frogs calling out into the night, the wolves howling bro...