Long Senses Poems
Long Senses Poems. Below are the most popular long Senses by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Senses poems by poem length and keyword.
I saw a poet walking
when out the other day
and I never even heard a word
that he had got to say.
It showed in every move he made
it shone out from his heart
there's something in a poet's way
that sets them all apart.
When looking at all people
don't be fooled by rags or clothes
or even by the wrinkles
or the way they hold their nose.
But try a little trick of mine
and look into their mind
even with your eyes shut
you're amazed by what you find.
The sense of smell,
and sight, and touch
are not your only tools,
there's a simple link
between our minds
that people seldom use.
But this completes your senses
and helps you on your way,
so take a 'look' around with this
when walking out today.
Ivor G Davies
People thought I’d lost my head but I was just confused,
l had facts to make sense of stood in a queue.
others had theories easy to refuse
loaded with madness showing delude,
and I got away for reasons unknown
as they simplified “why” alike thoughtless clones
yet stood in numbers or "a safety zone".
now my heads clearing I can see the insanity,
one quit weed and I can say it was me,
looking at a past mad as can be,
think they’re not mad,
people say that,
when their mad as can be.
not making sense is different to senseless,
I still have mine but they have no senses,
living in a world of reality elusion,
silver linings in the fact I removed them.
Calming clean crisp temperatures
Visually aesthetic browns,
Heart sweet October oranges,
Soft bright held ever so tight brown
~
Shades grounds leaves roll around and dance
Teasing pleases my eyes delight
Rainbow red, orange soothing souls
Breath, breathes compassions yellow greens
Soft bright held ever so tight brown
~
Feel like rejoicing outer side of the house
Most distinctive feel beyond windows light
Soft bright held ever so tight brown
Soft bright held ever so tight brown
~
Rainbow red, orange soothing sounds
The colors for mind eyes, I spy delight
The smells of autumn fall just right
Soft bright held ever so tight brown
~
Pumpkin, apple cider, warm drinks
Senses felt mix spirit, soul, thinks...
Soft bright held ever so tight brown
11/3/2023
October's Story Poetry Contest
Kyrielle poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
It's so dark outside, my eyes can't distinguish where sand meets water. Somehow, dusk has come and gone, plunging the evening into darkness.
But even as my eyes yield to this opaque absence of light, my other senses heighten. I can hear the crash of waves as they abuse the shoreline, sending foaming water up the beach in icy streams. I'm lulled by the sound of polished pebbles colliding like marbles as they recede with the waves. I can feel the sea's cool mist against my face, taste its salt on my lips. The scent of seaweed drifts on the breeze in gentle wafts - and then, slowly, the faintest whiff of smoke.
I glance over my shoulder, where a tiny dot of light penetrates the darkness. It's a beacon on this cool night, and I walk slowly toward it, digging my toes into the soft sand with each step.
dim moonlight
peeks through thinning clouds--
fire crackles
He's still there, stoking the fire, feeding the flames until the heat is tangible. The air wavers between us like a veil - a line I want to cross. He stirs up clouds of smoke, stirring feelings within me as I watch his busy hands. I wait patiently for him to notice my approach, and when he does, my breath catches.
rainbow flames
burst from seasoned maple--
blue eyes sparkle
I watch golden light flicker across his skin, softening the lines of his face. He abandons his task, moving around the fire until he stands before me, smiling as if he knows my heart is thundering in my chest.
He waits for a painstaking moment to pass. Then he kisses me with toasted marshmallow lips, pulling me down into his lap to watch the sparks rise like fireflies into the breathless night.
Inspired by the Strawberry Moon.
May all your dreams come true.
Stay blessed and enjoy your weekend.
Strawberry Moon
By Michelle Morris
21/06/2024
Behold our Strawberry Moon
She is big and bold and bright
Reminding us to be the same
To bring our energy into alignment
For we are not mere passengers
Souls stuck in mortal shells
We are here to create magic
Like the stars in the Universe dwell
Wrap your cloak of magic around you
Inhabit your senses and wild ways
Know that you are made to explore
Your creative expression of God's Grace
We are not meant to live in one place
Our Souls are here to learn and love and grow
For we embody so much Light and Hope
More than the Moon could ever glow
So look up at that Strawberry Moon
Feel strong and happy and free
Follow your desire to travel to the unknown
Through this World and beyond Life's mysteries
© Michelle Morris, 2024
.
i'm tuh
'bout
fetch foodz
sum
for
mine propagated
inciterz theirn
uv
soon
bloom
yesss
vittlez
tuh cauze theirn
flush full
flowerette's
florescence
to the
lure
butterfly
the fairest
unto mine
senses
Missing, missing, missing
Is all I am doing.
Kissing, kissing, kissing
Is all I am wishing for.
Yearning, yearning, yearning
Is all I am doing.
Coz I love you
Yeah babe I love you
Coz I need you
Yeah babe I need you
You affect my senses
Yeah babe you do
Coz I love you
Yeah babe I do
Aching, aching, aching,
Is my body doing,
Crazy, crazy, crazy,
Is my mind going,
I wish I could cut this thing off.
That is how it goes
When you love someone so much
So that anything else
Besides her is never
A look of love, a face of love.
Confused, confused, confused,
Is all I am without you.
Frantic, frantic, frantic
Are all my efforts for you.
Dirty-holy, dirty-holy, dirty-holy
Are all my thoughts about you.
I feel as if everyone falls for you,
Craves for you, loves you like I do,
Illogically.
Winter’s Passion’d Heat
“Snowflakes gather in crystalline drfitings”
Lifting your hair, kissing the nape of your neck
Warm flesh waits on tippy toe desires
Lips brush skin, lower beyond silver chain clasp
Sighs slip past moon shadow echoes
“Frost bitten warnings fuel whistling winds”
Candlelight flickers in illumined frenzy
Strong hands caress velvet curves, moving
Satin skin excites at the touch, shivering
Mouths meet across milky shoulders
“Frost coatings mingle, drafty windows squeal”
Reaching delicate fingers, soothing touches
Passion emanates from quivered partings
Honey drippings moisten, sweet syrup yearnings
Whispered moans tantalize, moments ignite
“Wind chimes sing frantically behind icicle curtains”
Down pillow yearnings, grasped, held
Eyes look back, smiles meet motions
Held closer, breathless exhales on dreams exposed
Deeper finds the pristine moment
“Algid gusts wail through frigid echoed alleyways”
My name, loudly sung, enchanted nirvana
Faster still, bodies in charged friction
Two become one, senses explode, flooding oasis
Eruptions quake bodies in perspired heap
“Arctic blast pierces sweltering pleasures”
Ecstasy sings in midnight harmonies
Melodic as the polar pulsations beyond
Numbed in devotion’s destinations
Wondrous snowy white blankets chill the world
“As our love provides winter’s passione’d heat”
Good night soupers.
Vicks Mentholatum. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
I sometimes open the jar and stick my nose in for a little smell
Which turns into a big smell, a little on my nose, some around my
Neck, and finally I beg my husband to slather it on my back while
I saturate my chest with it.
This smell loves me, calms me, and nurtures me like no other.
I probably spent the first ten years of my life slathered like this,
It brings back memories of mother, warm cocoa, soft scarves, and books.
Nothing opens my soul up faster than Native American flute music. It brings
out my wolf wild side. I want to run to a cliff and howl at the moon. It takes
me instantly to Sedona vacations, turquoise jewelry, kachina dolls, bringing the
American Southwest into my heart, and healing the sad places.
Almost everything I see delights me – shiny things, natural things, new things. But the thing that makes my heart sing the fastest is the sight of my grandchildren. Any one of them. I have ten, and it does not matter which one is coming toward me. There is a surge of happiness that leaps through me in a boundless joyful way that cannot be described. It is a craziness that must be lived and felt.
Beans will be the death of me. My favorite tastes all include beans. It is a toss-up which one
I like the most – jalapeno peppers stirred in refried beans, barbequed beans, kidney beans, pork and beans, and ham and beans. I salivate when I think of any of these. It is a spontaneous reaction that I have never been able to quell. When I was a child we ate lots of beans, so maybe that is where this is coming from. I have no idea. But I know these are my favorite meals. I am a cheap date.
What do I not like to touch? The list is tiny. I am a tactile learner. To teach me, you have to let me grab it, shake it, spin it, toss it, catch it, and rub it. I touch wallpaper, woodwork, and metal file cabinets in offices. I touch ants, rocks, flowers, grasses. I hug trees. I hug people. I am a professional toucher.
Possibly my favorite touch is warm, sudsy bath water after a trying day. I immerse myself, washing off sadness and disappointment, thinking of the Vicks Mentholatum which I will slather on when I get out.
Written: July 27, 2018
Entered: My 5 Senses Contest Sponsor: Viv Wigley
FOOD FOR THOUGHT
Staple food for thought caught in brain
are feelings oozing from emotive urge at ease or at strain.
Several food items are continuously available
at random in several spectrums of life
whether distasteful or palatable.
Thoughts are nourished by human senses as visualization,
Smell, hearing, taste or touch, less or much.
Realization or beyond perception, action, reaction, interaction,
creation or recreation are all food -suppliers of thought.
Food for thought to relish and rejoice are;
Love, compassion, care, sympathy, inspiration, success, happiness
Food for thought sought though unwanted are:
Hatred, malice, betrayal, ingratitude, pain, dismay, distress, danger.
Thoughts never starve but survive on continuous supply of food,
whether sour, bitter, salty or sweet.
One can’t quit from food for thought.
Abundant, limit less supply on compulsion,
till brain be alive, it can’t be deprived from food for thought.
01/03/19
Third Place
'food For Thought' Contest by Silent One