I get the obsessive collection
of beauty riotous,
coveting colors one hears
with the eye. A tulip
broke, as if by the stroke
of a resolute violin bow;
red-feathered line
like a lingering tune—
the poor Dutch dupes!
Poor droops,
loved so hard they all died.
Once, I licked a white petal.
Once, I held a bulb
in my mouth like light.
Colors one hears with the eye….. delicious phrase!
Such a depth of emotion I felt reading your line about colors one hears with the eye! I do feel as if color is light traveling to the eye, the ear, the brain and tingling several of my senses. As an artist, I try to explain how doing art moves me. Your words helped me elucidate that experience, thank you.
I was moved by the phrase “beauty riotous” as an apt description of tulips in full bloom. Today my own roses are a picture of beauty riotous as they bloom… intense, and short lived.