The air tells a thousand stories
in the mind are mechanics
that trigger a burst of delight
when hit by scents of spring blooms
in the air are pockets of varied odours
from homo sapiens coded with their
latest adventures, condition
as distinct as fingerprints
and the rainbow gently
precipitated by a drizzle
in the street are clusters of sweetness,
joy, wonder, pessimism, optimism
and a whole spectrum of experiences
from the city's residents
if your nostrils are sensitive
enough to pick them up
the human body emits odour
like how feelings work on
muscles of the human face
estacy induces estatic odour
joy - joyful odour
and gloom - depressed odour
this works down to our roots
indians have indian odour
chinese chinese odour
and americans, american odour
those into mysticism will know
even that God has his odour
the devil his own
and ghosts, ghastly odour
one noon in a hotel room in Kota Baru
my nose picked up a scent
that reminded me of the Most High
because of the sacredness
it evoked in me i reckoned
that it could only be God
who gave us each a nose
to sniff out his presence!
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Related quotes
Heaven is in you
Have an eye for woman;
Have an ear for music;
Have a tongue for poem;
Have a nose for odour;
Have skin massaged.
You will have had heaven
25.08.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Benedictine
The Benedictine scents and stains
the languor of your pallid lips;
My kiss shall be a bee that sips
A fainting roseleaf flushed with rains.
I thirst, and yet my thirst increases
With draining deep and deeper kisses;
The odour of your breath releases
Desires that dream of deeper blisses.
And on my lips your lips now pressed
Cling moist and close; your lips begin
Devouringly to gather in
Your kisses that my lips possessed.
The odour of your breath releases
Wafts of intoxicating blisses;
Yet still my thirst of you increases,
I think beneath your thirsty kisses.
No kisses more, this perilous day,
Or tempting, tempt me not in vain:
This day I dare not taste again
Your lips that suck my soul away!
poem by Arthur Symons
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I know that if odour were visible, as colour is, I'd see the summer garden in rainbow clouds.
quote by Robert Bridges
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gain has a pleasant odour, come whence it will.
Perfume
Shake out your hair about me, so,
That I may feel the stir and scent
Of those vague odours come and go
The way our kisses went.
Night gave this priceless hour of love,
But now the dawn steals in apace,
And amorously bends above
The wonder of your face.
'Farewell' between our kisses creeps,
You fade, a ghost, upon the air;
Yet ah! the vacant place still keeps
The odour of your hair.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Ownership mars
So dear to me is she
That I know her curves
Better than her owner
As one doesn’t see one’s nose.
So dear to me is she
That I know her odour
Better than her owner
As leaves don’t know their flowers’.
10.12.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Magdalen Walks
THE little white clouds are racing over the sky,
And the fields are strewn with the gold of the flower of March,
The daffodil breaks under foot, and the tasselled larch
Sways and swings as the thrush goes hurrying by.
A delicate odour is borne on the wings of the morning breeze,
The odour of leaves, and of grass, and of newly up-turned earth,
The birds are singing for joy of the Spring's glad birth,
Hopping from branch to branch on the rocking trees.
And all the woods are alive with the murmur and sound of Spring,
And the rosebud breaks into pink on the climbing briar,
And the crocus-bed is a quivering moon of fire
Girdled round with the belt of an amethyst ring.
And the plane to the pine-tree is whispering some tale of love
Till it rustles with laughter and tosses its mantle of green,
And the gloom of the wych-elm's hollow is lit with the iris sheen
Of the burnished rainbow throat and the silver breast of a dove.
See! the lark starts up from his bed in the meadow there,
Breaking the gossamer threads and the nets of dew,
And flashing a-down the river, a flame of blue!
The kingfisher flies like an arrow, and wounds the air.
poem by Oscar Wilde
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Each develops what others want
Why should a flower have colour?
Why should it have odour or nectar?
Why must it, for bee, have flavour?
It needs bees that are with fervour.
12.08.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Woman is an exception
A lamp is new, the light is old.
A flower is new, its odour is old.
A roof is new, its space is old.
A woman is new, lust for her is new.
18.06.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Money Is The Medium
The moon cannot shine without the sun.
The odour cannot spread without air.
Your speech cannot reach without money.
Penniless, you cannot achieve anything.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Average human looks without seeing, listens without hearing, touches without feeling, eats without tasting, moves without physical awareness, inhales without awareness of odour or fragrance, and talks without thinking.
quote by Leonardo da Vinci
Submitted by Catalin Popescu
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The self-love
One takes well the odour that one smells
From one's emissions and excretions,
Which are, however, pungent to others.
Self-love is an inborn bodyguard.
19.06.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Draw eyes, mind and hear
The shape is the petal to lure the eyes.
The grace is the odour to purr the mind.
The love is the nectar to hooks the heart.
Three in one, a flower gets soon pollinated.
04.11.2002
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Une Bagatelle
I wondered lonely in my bed
What odour held domain,
Brought my wrist up to my nose....
....Parfum de Guerlain.
I asked l'expert in the store,
'What's the dominant smell? '
'Gardenia's what they use to make
Jardins de Bagatelle.'
O God of Essence, Reason too,
Dieu Substance Gluant
Feuer mein Mut
Adhere me to
Wherever you are put.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Eyes
Eyes are arriving at my senses,
Policies of hearts, kissing a management.
Ears abide in a heavenly odour,
Full of pride and ache.
My eyes burst against desire when I fall
Into a stupor, into relaxation.
The death of beautiful eyes
Bought a catcher of cats
As no mother or father could buy.
The police have words when spoken to
About the recent bravery,
About the eye and nose.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The interpreters.
The child’s urine is water to mother..
Women’s armpits are smell of rose to men.
One’s own odour is pleasing to oneself.
Lust and passion are the interpreters.
16.08.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Apron Of Flowers
To gather flowers, Sappha went,
And homeward she did bring
Within her lawny continent,
The treasure of the Spring.
She smiling blush'd, and blushing smiled,
And sweetly blushing thus,
She look'd as she'd been got with child
By young Favonius.
Her apron gave, as she did pass,
An odour more divine,
More pleasing too, than ever was
The lap of Proserpine.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Conscience's functions
The nose smells when the odour changes.
The conscience pricks when the wrong enters.
The nose goes silent after the change stays.
The conscience goes dumb after the wrong stays.
Entering the fish market,
You will smell the fish.
Staying in the fish market,
You will no longer feel it.
08.04.2012.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Surroundings-12
Pesticide
Sick plants
Disheartening
Flit, flit..acrid odour
Dead sprayed..more disheartened.Just said
Sorry
poem by Indira Renganathan
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