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Seven Days in Chroma Space

Grapheme-colour, spatial-sequence and chromesthesia, are what make up my world. Days of the week hang in a kaleidoscope of colour, shade, texture, gender and personality. Seven Days in Chroma Space can give you a taste of how I experience each day.

By Clare O'BrienPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
15

I see red,

my Monday head.

Tomato purée, ripe and loud,

primary, stands out from the crowd.

I'm here, he shouts,

a wake-up call.

Fiery, in my face, intense,

shakes my inner confidence.

A bold, red button pressed,

wakes me with alarming stress.

Now, he says.

Tuesday is caramel caress,

a slippy kiss of liquid lava,

slothful, couldn’t care less.

Warm and sticky, languorous,

she drags me into lazy stupor.

Thoughts are syrup, a cloudy haze,

I’m wrapped in yellow, gooey glaze.

I give up today.

Waves wash over

this Wednesday with me.

He pulls me into a soft powder blue,

sucks me in, lures me into,

a warmth, a ripple, aquamarine.

An easy ride, no reason to slide

beyond the here and now.

Crystalline and marble spray

fizzes into seafoam green,

I glide inside the calm bubble

of the day.

Thursday tastes of burnt toffee

with molten cocoa brown.

Insightful, sweet I deliciously drown.

Delicately soothing, fluid oozing,

a joyous, delightful kick to my day.

A fragment of copper slices through

the long, wide-open afternoon.

Reflective, a warm energy

that gives me perspective.

Dark and seductive,

Friday comes to me.

Purest raw cacao with hints of fresh mint,

bitter sweet crisp with a snap.

He brings with him focus, rich and ambitious,

and I obey for today is my platform

for creative expression.

Lifts me higher than the days before,

propels me to progression.

Saturday, free flowing,

forest and hunter green.

She sweeps me along,

carries birdsong

with a low-pitched breath.

Dense and luscious canopies,

the taste of moss in an emerald sea.

A precious feeling weaves in between,

and keeps my mindset clean.

Wham! It’s Sunday.

Fried egg white and yellow sun yolk.

A pale day that lifts away

the week that went before.

Towering above each daily step,

prompts me to reflect,

contemplates the week ahead,

Iridescent light falls delicate and bright.

Today is the calm before…

…the plunge!

A sudden drop through the hidden trapdoor.

BANG!

I smash back into Monday red.

surreal poetry
15

About the Creator

Clare O'Brien

Manchester-based artist, writer and musician.

INSTAGRAM

Plays synth with @swimthemusic

Connect @claremoondot / @moondotcreative

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  • Lia Rose2 years ago

    Absolutely love the way this was written :))

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