To Believe Impossibilities
do we need to sight grow sharper senses
or do we need to believe the impossibilities
our senses proclaim before our orb eyes
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Nature Is Full Of Miracles
do we need our senses to grow sharper
or do we need to believe the impossibilities
our senses proclaim before our orb eyes
the amazing world of nature is full of miracles
miracles are ever ready to transcend lost lives
yet jaded souls refuse to dance in life mysteries
there is more beauty in every birth morning
than souls need can absorb in a single day
come share moments as day embraces night
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Which is chaste?
My eyes are sharper than swords.
Your attention was held.
My words are sharper than eyes.
Your heart was won.
My pen is sharper than words.
Your senses struggle.
Is my sharpest weapon blunt
‘Cause your senses are strong?
No, your senses are iron sheathed.
Else, your senses are the weakest.
The senses shown can be visible.
Hence you dread to show.
The shown heart, who knows?
Hence, you dare to concede.
Heart, more precious, is given.
Yet you guard your senses.
Throne is lost; sword is guarded.
War is lost; battle is waged.
Kings are friendly; subjects only war.
Heart is given; senses are withheld.
Visibly chaste; Invisibly what?
13.06.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The place beyond between
Not named as joy;
not named as happiness..
at the end of a thought
the eyes lifted; then,
only the senses;
only the senses’ action seen;
only the endless beauty
of the beautiful unnamed;
only the glory of the food
of the senses unattached;
where is the mind
in this perfect satisfaction?
who needs to name this blessing,
blithe? or to name it, bliss?
beyond a name;
yet known.
*
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Screen The Sufferings
With the senses you know the world.
The senses awake, you're aware.
The unbridled senses lead to lust.
The sensory objects induce greed.
With the mind you build ambition
And ignore the path to attain.
With the ego you feel importance
And want at any cost to achieve.
Senses, mind and ego reined,
Suffering is screened.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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There Our Senses Touch
There our senses touch.
In the fields of...
Fresh grass scented.
To glisten with dew,
Lifted,
By a dawning morning...
Clear.
Bright.
And appetizing awakening eyes.
There our senses touch.
With an open window nearby.
Where the 'is' and 'why' of life,
Breezes through fields God gives...
To make the experience of it,
Flagrant with inconsistent fragrance shifting.
From day to day.
As if to outdo each creation made.
There our senses touch.
In the fields of...
All there is to life.
And to know it can not be simply lived,
If not witnessed.
There our senses touch.
Outside of ourselves.
With none of it to be lived,
To sit on fences.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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You Came To My Senses
I picture you on the beach
Lying in the sand
Out of reach of my trembling hands
I picture you in a car
Blonde hair in the wind
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
(chorus)
You come to my senses
Every time I close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I cant stop this ache inside
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Driving home in the cold
January rain
Ive got to find my way out of this pain
I reached for you in the night
I dreamed of your kiss
I woke before it got light
With your name on my lips
Alone in my bed
Your voice in my head
(chorus)
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
You come to my senses
Every time I close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I cant stop this ache inside
Oh, I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Ah...
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Come To My Senses
I picture you on the beach
Lying in the sand
Out of reach of my trembling hands
I picture you in a car
Blonde hair in the wind
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
(chorus)
You come to my senses
Every time i close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I can't stop this ache inside
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
Driving home in the cold
January rain
I've got to find my way out of this pain
I reached for you in the night
I dreamed of your kiss
I woke before it got light
With your name on my lips
Alone in my bed
Your voice in my head
(chorus)
I picture you in my arms
And the touch of your skin
The smile on your face
The way that you taste
You come to my senses
Every time i close my eyes
I have no defenses
You come to my senses
I can't stop this ache inside
Oh, i have no defenses
You come to my senses
Ah...
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Day I Know You Will..! ..
One day I know
you will take back my sight
you lent me at my entry
into your world;
Deeply therefore I look into
every creation-
macrocosoms and microcosoms-
and in my mind's endless arena
chisel exact replicas to defy time-
I will ever keep alive hence
of all the delights
through my sight and senses-
Yes.every song of your creation
and every fury of your destruction
will ever reverberate
in every corner of my heart
even after you withdraw
your soldiers of senses!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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Blake said that the body was the soul's prison unless the five senses are fully developed and open. He considered the senses the 'windows of the soul.' When sex involves all the senses intensely, it can be like a mystical experence.
quote by Jim Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pushing The Senses
Finishing avenue
Pulling you under now
Your fighting the undertow
Before it sucks you down
Pushing the senses
It's pushing the senses now
Come on come on
What are you going to do
You can't find another day
Come on come on
You're pushing the senses
You're pushing the senses through
Always, I can depend on you
But sometimes
It's burning a hole right through
Let's talk about it
Staring at photographs
Post it on the wall
Images smiling down
The face of a lonely soul
Come on come on
What are you going to do
You can't find another day
Come on come on
You're pushing the senses
You're pushing the senses through
Always
'cause I can depend on you
But sometimes
I'm finding it hard to choose
Let's talk about it
Always
I can depend on you
But sometimes
It's burning a hole right through
Let's talk about it
Let's talk about it
Always
I can depend on you
But sometimes
Sometimes
Always
I can depend on you
But sometimes
It's burning a hole right through
Let's talk about it
Always
I can depend on you
But sometimes
It's burning a hole right through
Keep pushing the senses through
Let's talk about us
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Senses in one are unequal.
You are with five senses
to guard you and to lead you,
some strong, some weak;
Gene and psyche are at work.
I am hungry by eyes and ears.
My lips are always dry
to get wet by women’s skin.
My other senses are undemanding.
17.04.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Since I've Come To My Senses
Giving up on my life,
To not sleep peacefully at night.
With a pacing of the floor...
Back and forth and uptight.
Not anymore.
Since I've come to my senses,
Open are those doors I've closed before.
Giving up on my dreams,
To witness them flow downstream...
Panicked.
Not anymore.
Since I've come to my senses,
Down came those fences...
And defenses raised.
Doing things for others to see them pleased,
With approval unshown...
They appreciated me.
Not anymore.
Since I've come to my senses.
I will not be accused,
For something done I did do.
To then feel used and psychologically abused...
With an inflicting of my own torment?
No!
Not anymore...
Since I've come to my senses.
Giving up on my life to feel accepted,
As a focused objective to have others reject...
No.
Not anymore.
I've closed those doors.
There are so many others I had to learn to open,
With a coming to my senses.
Before I prevented so much I now can see.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sharper
I know that you are sharp.
I didn’t know
That you are sharper
Than I thought.
You pricked my heart
Without pain felt.
You bent my ego
Without crack seen.
Now you sent me to hell
With senses slain.
27.10.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Who Am I?
A bleary friend is seen through my eyes,
To be exact we derive a bleary eye;
Be able of this moment, be the command of liberty.
From liberal measures the abandonment of the eyes
Comes to taste, and sight has reached memory.
Maybe the sight is attractive, although polite
By the hours, goodness knows what!
Braiding the hours with skill is using sight,
Prefect of the senses, louder than words.
A bleary man is the size of my design,
I now see this concerning picture of a man who knows
Who I am. Who I am.
poem by Naveed Akram
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In the island of my senses
In the island of my senses
You have come as a lover.
Last night you touch
With your fingers my
Softness and I wriggled
In such sweetness.
I touch you too with the
Sands of my shores
You do not really know
That I am here
In my flowers and
Shells. I whistle and
Sigh in my winds of
My islands. You do
Not know that I am
Here. In the island
Of my senses I lay
With desire concealed.
As I kiss you in your
Sleep, I am not even
A part of your dream.
In the island of my
Senses, you are
The boat that leaves
Me tomorrow. I am
Staying in pain.
My clouds bleed
In scarlet sunset.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet XXIX: When Conquering Love
To the Senses
When conquering Love did first my Heart assail,
Unto mine aid I summon'd every Sense,
Doubting, if that proud tyrant should prevail,
My Heart should suffer for mine Eyes' offence;
But he with Beauty first corrupted Sight,
My Hearing bribed with her tongue's harmony,
My Taste by her sweet lips drawn with delight,
My Smelling won with her breath's spicery.
But when my Touching came to play his part
(The King of Senses, greater than the rest),
He yields Love up the keys unto my Heart,
And tells the other how they should be blest.
And thus by those of whom I hop'd for aid
To cruel Love my Soul was first betray'd.
poem by Michael Drayton
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The plain man is familiar with blindness and deafness, and knows from his everyday experience that the look of things is influenced by his senses; but it never occurs to him to regard the whole world as the creation of his senses.
quote by Ernst Mach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rainbow
Woven in texture of sunlit colour,
I'm mere clouds torn droplets.
Short of any inward charm, nothing
Is sensed.Focus on senses, not
On the objects of senses.
poem by Yoonoos Peerbocus
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Youth To Elder
The years are catching up to us
Our minds seem to be losing touch
No longer do we see or feel
What is fake and what is real.
They say humanity has five senses
Which I tend to disagree
Seeing, smelling, hearing, taste and touch.
But those are just the outer senses of which they speak
What about the inner senses which control you and me.
Love, compassion, fear, hate
Just a few which they forgot to rate.
The list has become so long
That in a book it doesn't belong.
Sadness, joy, anger, frustration
It's not even enough for our imagination.
All these things with age we've come to know
And in our souls it began to grow.
The soul is the only thing that we can not lose
And given a choice- this I'll choose
For when it's time for us to go to the other side
Everything else is left behind.
The soul is like a treasure chest
It holds all the wealth that you've created
Of all the feelings known to man
So when you get to GODS kingdom
You'll understand.
It becomes like a video that you can see
Of your every step and memory
So Alzheimer's and dementia stand aside
You ‘re in for a long, long ride.
poem by Louis Rams
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