Senses poems from famous poets and best beautiful poems to feel good. Best senses poems ever written. Read all poems about senses.
Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon,
dark smell of seaweed, crush of mud and light,
what secret knowledge is clasped between your pillars?
Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;
The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
Is cropping audibly his later meal:
Take the cloak from his face, and at first
Let the corpse do its worst!
How he lies in his rights of a man!
I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
The tumult in the heart
keeps asking questions.
And then it stops and undertakes to answer
in the same tone of voice.
You come to me quiet as rain not yet fallen
Afraid of how you might fail yourself your
dress seven summers old is kept open
in memory of sex, smells warm, of boys,
How advanced they are, these children of the future,
Like small adults, within their tiny frames,
They grow up in a fast 'speed driven' culture,
Where 'learning pressures' change their kind of games,
Lonely is just one word chosen to represent so much
To tell of feelings inside that the senses cannot touch
Lonely can be in the teardrops on a bereaved person's cheek
Poetry is a solitary art
But beautiful words come alive
While we write.
The deep parts of my life pour onward,
as if the river shores were opening out.
It seems that things are more like me now,
That I can see farther into paintings.
Leafy-with-love banks and the green waters of the canal
Pouring redemption for me, that I do
The will of God, wallow in the habitual, the banal,
Grow with nature again as before I grew.
Canonised when dead, cannonaded when in life,
Lofty your thoughts that savour of content
But loftier the craftmanship
More congruent in symmetry
In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes,
For they in thee a thousand errors note;
But 'tis my heart that loves what they despise,
Who in despite of view is pleased to dote.
We cannot aspire to that, which is already dead,
And there is no solace in delusion;
We should save the present for future memories;
Thus, to remember we had a life we lived.
Vital spark of heav’nly flame!
Quit, O quit this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, ling’ring, flying,
O the pain, the bliss of dying!
O rose beyond the reach of time and of the senses
O kiss enveloped in the scarves of all the winds
surprise me with one dream
that my madness will recoil from you
The arc of my brain reshaped for
The room to fill senses and madness
Acronyms and seduction amalgamated
Boundaries of essence essentials
Now my five senses
gather into a meaning
all acts, all presences;
and as a lily gathers
A mason came forth and said, "Speak to us of Houses."
And he answered and said:
once hunter gather humans used ability heightened senses
told senses season time touched time with all skin senses
sight light dark heat cold temperatures all season sounds
hunter gather humans used ability heightened senses
senses told season time touched time with all senses
sight light dark heat cold temperatures all sound senses
When your senses cannot realise the truth,
With a whole world to taste and smell,
And you do have a lot to feel and see,
That may make you hear the wrong bell!
percetual objects engaged with sic senses into zone of born talent untitled
I think freely, for I am the mind,
the senses that experience and store
Life from one experience to the next,
nurture me, and I will blossom,
Unique style! !
Senses of the electronic magnetic waves! ! ! !
Come to your senses,
Come yield your touch
Come talk, come listen, come see
Life has a taste,
I shut my senses and human fleas drop dead,
I unleashed my thoughts life rolled back with men,
I swear in the rat race We're often misled.
We have five basic senses…which we use daily without thinking about them much
There's seeing and hearing and tasting and don't forget…smelling and touch.
Our senses are interconnected…into our life they're totally infused…
One may be striving all along,
O Kunti's son,
A man of discretion,
Still, the senses turbulent, strong,
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