Short Sense Of Touch Poems
Short Sense Of Touch Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Sense Of Touch by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Sense Of Touch by length and keyword.
Skewed steak in my clutch
A spicy morsel too much
Loosing sense of touch
By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX
She is going blind
and has listened to lying.
She cannot hear,
and is filled with fear.
She has lost so much,
even her sense of touch.
050123PSCtest. Bite Size Contest no. 62
Line Gauthier
...comes now the ebb,
between twigs, someone spins
its silken web...
...brown twigs are such
one's fingertips desert
their sense of touch..!
comes now the ebb,
between twigs, spider spins
its silken web...
for brown leaves are such,
fingertips desert
their sense of touch !
if i see you & you
see me (converge
complete) if i look
through the hole in the
wall would i fall
(spiritsoul out of control)
sense of touch (too
much) gentle softness
you are (foreign
language) i want to
grasp but it's too
broad to bear.
Hues of emotion
Nuances within
Their colouration
Rainbow beauteous
Prismatic delight
We as witness
From the fulcrum
Imbibe each pulse
Through sense of touch
In silence
Staid stillness
Aliveness
Grateful
For Gods
Gift
09-October-2020
Dulled by years
a sense of touch
a stream of tears
nothing left, I feared
monotonous as weather
days melding together
no markers between
feasts of shoe leather...
you tip-toed stealthily
probing a hole in my armor
set me a-tingling magically
ruby lips enchanting me
indeed, brown leaves are such,
fingertips desert
their sense of touch;
ruefully leaves the ebb
as 'tween twigs, spider spins
its silken web!
Sans the sense of touch, we will feel not bliss,
which transforms as peace in the oneness field
but since we are here, Divine Mother’s kiss
is joy bestowed by power God does wield,
so when ego drops off and there’s no shield,
we feel on earth as it is in heaven,
living light shining in chakras seven.
Lagi
Tubuhnya kaku! Sudah seminggu dirundung rindu
Ingin disampaikan padanya rasa rindu dalam syahdu...
Ia tak datang (lagi) rupanya
Again
(16/09/2011)
Her deprived sense of touch, decreasing numbly
One full week as a longing casualty
Just wants to say ‘miss you’ sorely
He doesn’t come (again) apparently
Her personality traits resonate
all around me in green;
I feel the soft, warm breeze brushing my skin,
as the scent of flowers hold me captive.
Trees give out a faint, amber glow
in the summer sun.
Her beauty resonates in my soul….
Name of Poet: Teddy Kimathi
Contest title: SENSE OF TOUCH
Date of Entry: 30/08/2015
The feeling of floating through time and space
Loneliness and silence consumes me
Wrapped in darkness like a swaddled infant
No beginning or ending
Forever searching for light
No emotion or sense of touch
Capsulated in an endless loop of confinement
No exit for escape
Forever searching for release from the limbo of my existence
What are Senses?
A sense of touch
A sense of smell
A sense of faith.
What happens when they are gone?
Scattered to the wind
Weathered by the storm
Coming up empty.
What do we do then?
Start from scratch
Back to the drawing board
Turning over that leaf.
Will we ever be the same?
Time is indifferent
Wounds will heal
Scars remain.
Hear that baby scream
Listen to mother’s cry
Touch his freshest skin
Feel the beat of his heart
Sing the sweet lullaby
Let him sleep in silent night
He likes it that much!
Hugs and wild sense of touch
It was 1991, I remember.
Year of his birth,
When he saw the world
Back to 1991, I remember
Year of his innocence,
When he was named “Lei”
This old wood bench feels splintered
as does the old gentleman beside me.
Strong enough to hold us both however
in our conversation as afternoon fades.
Cannot turn away from the kindness
in his eyes as I gently stroke his craggy face.
I crush a handful of fragrant flowers and offer
them to my sweet grandfather.
written by Deb Wilson
for Sense Of Touch contest
9/1/2015
With a heavy heart and laden feet
I step again into a domain where nature
perennially is in a state of spring,
But there’s fall in my world and gloom
For I had once walked hand-in-hand
this very path with my love in bloom
And had woven some fond memories on
this park bench which now sits forlorn.
Abdul Malik, 08/31/15
Sense of Touch contest by nette onclaud
The sense of sight…
To picture our world each day.
The sense of touch…
To kiss the pain and tears away.
The sense of smell…
As lungs fill with the air we breathe.
The sense of taste…
As flavors on the tongue they weave.
The sense of hearing…
For the music of children at play.
But the most valuable sense of all,
A sense of humor…
So no matter what, you can laugh each day.
A riot of colors blinds me in their wonder
fall decks the park with dazzling yellows and cool greens
lush crimsons thriving in sun's embrace
pale lilacs are young lovers impassioned in rapture.
Sun's warmth cuddles babies in their strollers
I stroll enchanted, though lost around winding trails
I wish I could be an artist dabbling in my easel
inventing new tints, coloring myself purple.
@jjote 0831/2015
You put a blindfold on me,
so I cannot see.
I have a plug in each ear.
This is so I cannot hear.
I wear thick insulated gloves as such.
These are to inhibit my sense of touch.
Sticking my tongue out would be a waste.
There is nothing for me to taste.
All I have left is my sense of smell.
I know you are near me, I can tell.
A deaf, dumb, and blind man knows.
There is no way to hide from my nose.
That is because you smell like a rose.
What good comes from these words you speak to me?
Your intentions pierce my heart and
Soil my soul.
What truth is told by our journey?
Too many years spent so far from my home.
The abnegation of my worth is the only thing
That keeps me here in your arms.
As I battle between loyalty and self exploration
I battle to find my fate.
Stripped of my sense of touch and sight
I with one swift leap
Fall perfectly
Into the puzzle that is my life.
I could be an angel,
with a broken wing,
and not even know,
simply because my,
sense of touch went cold.
So here I sit in the dark,
unable to even see,
whether or not the people,
I know truly love me.
Most people I know,
refuse to even let me grow,
to some of them I am a fool,
but to all of them I am a tool.
So I try to find a way out,
to find a way to at least date,
so I can feel better about myself,
and get away from a town full of hate.
The sweat of the leaves cooled my palms,
When I plucked a red flower from the parks garden.
I placed it in velvet hair lifting from a soft breeze,
as we sat upon a hard metal bench.
A kiss, to join in comfort as two hands grasped tightly.
As people unnoticed passed by, our hands parted,
Releasing briefly to caress a tear away, on a glowing face.
Where eyes were filled by movement from an unborn child.
contest Sense of Touch
Frederic Parker
8/29/15
As I walk slowly on the soft-hard interlock
pathway lost in thought, as the rays of sun drum
on my hairless head; the sight of beautiful floral
pattern gives a gentle pat on my disturbed mind;
which sends lovely vibes through my entire body.
The soothing hands of the wind adds to
this relief that “tomorrow will be better”,
And the mellifluous voices of the birds tap reassuringly.
Olusegun Arowolo Date:9-1-2015
CONTEST:"Sense of Touch" sponsored by Nette Onclaud
Sense of touch enables soul’s aliveness
Myriad forms thrive within space-time
Each having roots in That Oneness
God in-dwells us all, as love sublime
He speaks to us as voice of conscience
In the void of stillness, we hark His chime
All souls are born free as pristine innocence
Purity soiled by instinctive fear and desire
Shrouding innate divine luminescence
Oh hermit, if we wish to rise higher ~
Consign ego to the funeral pyre
05-May-2022