Sensibility
The five senses of man
sight, smell, touch, taste and hearing
are mandatory.
This makes you feel expeallagrandatory,
For sight for seeing the funny side of life,
Smell for inhaling laughing gas,
Touch for touching the funny bone,
Taste for the good life and,
Hearing for a rib tickling joke.
The sixth sense ESP. is only for the few.
The lucky are blessed with the seventh sense,
A sense of humour.
Like the barman answering the lady penguin’s question
“Have you seen my husband he drinks here a lot? ”
“Lady we get lots of drinkers in here, what does he look like? ”
Most important of all
This humorous sense stands tall,
It opens your emotional sensibilities
So grab your lover for platform seven
To travel on the happy train,
To the fun side of life,
It’s just like heaven.
poem by Ken e Hall
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Related quotes
Seven Layers of Heaven
touch,
sight,
taste,
hear,
smell
....
....
seven layers
of heaven
set in me
two more
layers
lost in
myself
clouded
in the views
cast by the world
heaven
comes in
seven
layers
so say hindus,
chinese,
buddhists,
even the muslims
and hell?
between
all
the senses
the heart
that torments
the doers
for
his misdeeds
the fugitive
who manages
to run away from
everybody
but not
the burning hell
of conscience
that pokes
at his top
making him bleed
at the heart
day and night
hell and heaven
bound in this
frame of
heart, soul
and mind
a living hell?
the heaven
in seven layers
the other two layers?
sixth sense?
seventh sense?
two puzzles
that wait
for an answer
hidden
in the realms
that circle
around me
i look into the sky
and journey
to the
eternal sphere
that joins me
to the moons, stars
try taking me
out of this world
and it sure looks different
feel different
a whole new world
the seventh sense
seventh heaven
the sixth?
the woman
who digs
deep into
layers of her own mind
to find the dates
of her own death
and exciting upcoming events
of the world, the tsunami
third world war,
end of the world
a nostradamus
a hell in between all these?
the scorn
from bigots
two layers
of heaven that got lost
in me
covered by
the clouds
five is perhaps
a more lucky number
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Man sees, hears, touches, tastes and smells that which it is necessary for him to see, hear, touch, taste and smell in order to preserve his life. The decay or loss of any of these senses increases the risks with which his life is environed, and if it increases them less in the state of society in which we are actually living, the reason is that some see, hear, touch, taste and smell for others. A blind man, by himself and without a guide, could not live long. Society is an additional sense; it is the true common sense.
quote by Miguel de Unamuno
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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What He Gave to Us
I wanted to do something different today
I didn’t know what to do, or even what to say.
I had a feeling deep inside- that made me
Want to scream “ I’m alive”.
I looked around at all the beauties of the earth
And thought about all my worth.
That I was born with all five senses
That the lord had given to me.
The sense to Touch a delicate flower
The sense to Hear a bewitching hour
The sense to Smell what s in the air.
The sense to Taste the juices of a pear
The sense to See the beauty of a pearl
There is another sense that they don’t say
Such as Feelings- of love, to wipe tears away
Feelings cover all aspects of life
It can make things wrong or things right.
Feelings of passion and despair
Of compassion from one who cares
Bitterness, anger, hate and sorrow
Even those make life worth while.
There is so much that we must be grateful for
For GOD has opened all the doors.
He knew that we needed all these things
To make our lives complete.
But there was still something missing
What good was all these senses
If we didn’t have the main sense.
The sense to think and rationalize
All that he had given
That was the thing that would really
Make life worth living.
(08/10/11)
poem by Louis Rams
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Heaven is a space in the heart
He could see
He could sense
He could desire
Compassion.
He came for love
Finding those deserving-
tell me, why does an angel suffer?
Was God really too high above?
With the stomach of immortalism, the Supreme intellect precedes action
'Cowards die a thousand deaths but the valiant taste of death, but once'- Shakespeare.
That human senses
Is what the enemy wants
Without the reign of will.
Many having seen the night
That they have seen
Could do with some superhuman, Kryptonite.
May God take back the senses
Nothing rightly leftover
Sight, sound, taste, smell and taste
And else worthy, of his sense.
Heaven is a space in the heart.
poem by Kamini Arichandran
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A Dream Of Romantic Love!
Romantic love inspires potential interest to live in the world;
Enjoyment of love churns out joy and pleasure in long life
And the dream of romantic love never ceases desire to demise
Despite the burden to work hard to stabilise life in the world!
Spell of romance makes one forget the sense of anything -
Sense of taste, sight, smell, hearing and touch common for all!
Nothing is known happening around except the object of love
And even day and night are forgotten during such pursuits deep!
All seem surmountable as in the adventures of Don Quixote;
What a dream world of romantic love romance immerses in!
Summer or Winter, or Autumn or Spring everything is one
To the eyes, mind and spirit when the heart is full of love ever!
A dream of romantic love makes everything easy as in paradise
Or in heaven where only enjoyment of variety is thought forever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Laughing At Ourselves
Some people have this tenancy
to make others feel sad,
some even torment just
to make others get mad.
Little ole me
I like to brighten up
everyone’s day with laughter
by telling a joke or two,
because I feel that laughter
is the best medicine
to get rid of the blues.
The world can be a funny place
if you stop and look at it for a while.
Everything has its funny side,
even in the darkest day.
An incoherent message
that makes no sense at all
some would find funny
and end up curled up on the floor.
So whatever you are doing
look on the funny side of it
for nothing can be funnier
than laughing at ourselves.
poem by David Harris
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Wish it is Funny
funny thing, i can still feel the touch of the scattered petals, white roses with red ones
funny thing, i can still hear the coo of the turle doves freed, flying high
funny thing, i can still see the golden sun slowly sinks under wide ocean
funny thing, i can still taste the sweet yet semi dry wine, passionately aromatic
funny thing, i can still smell your citrus-minty scent, soothing my senses
funny yet unfair
everything i feel, hear, see, taste, smell accompanies YOU
everything i feel, hear, see, taste, smell symbolizes you
everything that i feel, hear, see, taste, smell is not funny at all
it is bringing me black smoky background
it is bringing me delusions and hallucinations
it is bringing me confusion
funny but wish it is fair
dainty as the roses
free as the turtledoves flying nowhere
golden as the sun collided under the wide ocean
passionate as the wine
citrus-minty as your scent
wish it is
funny
poem by Shelomith Noarbe
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Eight senses
(poetry in progress)
the world starts out
with a consciousness
half a consciousness
then one consciousness
then they morph with one sense,
ask the mountain
they stand and stand until the
volcanoes start to throw them out
then two senses, ask the trees
and the shrubs criss crossing
with your paths in the field
they stand and stand, take
the sunshine and make green
a colour for continuous evolution
their only shortcoming is their
two sense world, they stand and stand
a state of being, a state of living
and that's all
the three senses, the four senses
and the five senses, the human beings
they cry to God to let them
have eternal life
but what ever that's for
without the sixth, seventh, or eight sense
unveiled to them
sixth, the sense to connect the past
with the future
the seventh, the sense to connect
the future with the million of consciousness
clarmouring for the eight senses
to be with the ultimate, the Om,
the Divine where all senses
come together with one Supreme
consciousnes, amalgamation of
senses where knowledge springs forth
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Children Of Love...
sometimes it seems we travel
on long journeys as far away from
ourselves as we can....
before we can find the way
and the means to come home.
often, somewhere in the seasons
of our living, love is like that.
we become so numbed by the struggle
to merely exist, that we lose our
intimate connection....
we lose our sense of taste, of smell,
our very sense of touch...
and it is this loss, if we are lucky,
that redeems us, that strips us
and brings us back to the basic
instincts of our heart...
the storm comes, destroying
all the false images we've worshipped....
yet the rain washes our bodies,
the very bodies of our souls clean....
and only then, naked and vulnerable,
without any props... are we able again
to know love... to feel, to touch, to taste....
and again, through suffering, the candle is lit.
at our best, and our worst, naked...
we are the children of love!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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The sanitary and mechanical age we are now entering makes up for the mercy it grants to our sense of smell by the ferocity with which it assails our sense of hearing.
quote by Havelock Ellis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Joint Laughter
We laugh at the same funny things,
Our quick sense of humour just springs
From being together,
Whatever the weather,
It's wonderful what such laughter brings.
We can each see the funny side, that's true,
But of course we can sometimes be blue,
But if one of us is down,
Then the others a clown
Enticing a smile to break through.
Sometimes, when we're both very tired,
And we feel that we're electrically wired,
Something just makes us smile,
And after a while,
We can laugh, which is just what's required.
I won't say there's not sadness in life,
But try looking beyond all the strife,
We keep smiling along,
Till the sadness has gone,
That's the delight of being 'husband and wife'.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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I hear the Lark.
I hear the lark, said Alice,
it sings in my ear like an
angel's voice, brings me
pleasure in my darkest
hour, plays in my mind
like an echoing dream.
I see the morning sun,
its beams dance at my
feet, swirl around like a
child at play, my eyes
rejoice at the sight I see,
dread the thought of
blindness in some new
day's gift, push away the
ideas as if they were flies,
push all away like one fulfilled.
I smell the lily's scent, its
aroma brings me out in a
rash of joy, its smell invades
my nose like a vanquishing
army, opens me up to the
pleasures of smell, makes
me want to sniff forever,
drink in until my head swims,
my sleep recalls the aroma's kiss.
I feel my lover's fingers along
my flesh, sense his skin smooth
along mine like a skater on ice,
like one sliding across a polished
floor, the fingers caressing like
a butterfly's touch, tickling to
laughter, fondling until my voice
says, ah, don't stop, fill me up,
squeeze all on until the final drop.
I breathe the wind's breath,
inhale the morning's freshness,
the air of angel's exhalation,
my lungs take in like a greedy
girl, sup in each particle as I
dance along, remembering now
the air of summer, the filling
of my lungs like a fish the water,
opening my lips in a happy song,
my voice singing across an open sea.
I taste my lover's tongue touch
mine, feel the tongue and mine
in dance, lick and lick until the
pleasures erupt, the places engorge
and swell, I taste the saltiness
of my lover's sex, the sweetness
of the heavenly hive, the tongue
swimming along my lover's thigh
and arm and on and on, my taste
buds explode into a rainbow of
colours, my tongue feeling like
a snail's flesh, moving and sensing
until my mind says, No more, no
more and I hear the waves of dark
depression surge in on my shore.
poem by Terry Collett
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As A Poet
As a poet I like to clear my head
of what I think must be said,
such as a humorous thought
that should be caught,
or a moment remembered good or bad
whether it's happy, hurtful, or sad.
A great injustice that can't be ignored,
or the fight for a worthy cause.
A tear of heartbreak or happiness,
or a love that's filled with tenderness.
A love lost and one that's gained,
one man's dishonour and another's fame.
Something new, a breath of fresh air,
originality of which we all can share.
Seeing, hearing, tasting and touch,
and that second sense we cherish so much.
Beauty to behold in every sense of the word,
to laugh and smile, and to be absurd.
poem by Tex T Sarnie
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Hey Lucky Lady
Hey lucky lady lucky lady I was once the lucky lady
I was happy with my baby I was such a lucky lady
Hey lucky lady lucky lady you are now the lucky lady
Are you happy with my baby you know you're a lucky lady you lucky lady
Lucky lady that's what I was I was happy to have his love
All a woman could wish for he was that and so much more
He was mine and how I loved him before your hands ever touched him
Long before your temptin' eyes lured my baby from my life
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
Is it love or is it pleasure do you know you've found a treasure
Are you only having fun do you know the prize you've won
If you don't want something lasting if it's just the time you're passing
Lucky lady give him up cause I do love him very much
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
Hey lucky lady lucky lady...
song performed by by Dolly Parton, music by Dolly Parton (1975)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life vibrates five elements
The Sky vibrates with the Sound
And the Air, with the Touch in addition.
The Fire beams with the Form as third
And the Water, with the Taste as fourth.
It's the Earth that has all the five,
With the Smell as its fifth Guna.
The five elements make a body,
Which houses the five sense organs.
Life force vibrates the body
And experiences five senses.
26.06.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Man is the consumer.
Man excels woman in all senses:
Touch, smell, taste hearing and seeing.
Yes, he alone is to seek and consume.
30.04.2003
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Since I Have Felt The Sense Of Death
Since I have felt the sense of death,
Since I have borne its dread, its fear—
Oh, how my life has grown more dear
Since I have felt the sense of death!
Sorrows are good, and cares are small,
Since I have known the loss of all.
Since I have felt the sense of death,
And death forever at my side—
Oh, how the world has opened wide
Since I have felt the sense of death!
My hours are jewels that I spend,
For I have seen the hours end.
Since I have felt the sense of death,
Since I have looked on that black night—
My inmost brain is fierce with light
Since I have felt the sense of death.
O dark, that made my eyes to see!
O death, that gave my life to me!
poem by Helen Hoyt
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Can Streams Flow Along The River Sides?
Can the streams run upto the oceans far?
Can they run along the side of the rivers known?
You were a river and I a stream
Who flowed together once.
Using the sixth sense I read your mind
The one none could read before.
Each line written on your mind
Unveiled a portrait painted never.
You were a river and I a stream..
Aside my failing senses old
Triumphed my sixth sense young.
You, the river got flooded
And I, the stream was drowned.
Denouncing the last reason left you kept even my soul off-
An act someone else could have done.
Each word spoken at my funeral often
Unravelled the mystery of your mind.
Along the side of the river of your ego,
May I flow as a stream entwining you ever in the next life too?
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Blindly busy.
You see but look not.
You hear but listen not.
You smell but sense not.
You taste but relish not.
You touch but feel not.
All in hurry-scurry,
You are blindly busy.
Be lazy to enjoy
04.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Losing My Touch
Reservations for one tonight
Ill be eating by myself again
At that quiet little corner spot
Where we used to hang with all our friends
And Ill ease down to the local pub
Climb up on the tallest stool
Holding court with my common sense
Outwitting all these common fools
Chorus:
Ive got good taste for blended whiskey
I can see my way around this bar
I can hear the sound of a vintage jukebox
And smell the smoke of a hand-rolled cigar
I cant read your mind
Baby I can sense this much
When it comes to your love
I feel like Im losing my touch
Youre not buying this anymore
My lies have come up short again
You havent said its over yet
Oh but I can feel a bitter wind
And after giving me your better years
And hoping for the very best
Closing time is drawing near as I sit alone with all the rest
Chorus
When it comes to your love
I feel like Im losing my touch
song performed by by Toby Keith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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