Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Payton Mar 2021
If I were never again to look upon your face, more magnificent than pure moonlight, I shall pluck out my own eyes,
that I might never look on anything else again,
that I might delight in your beauty in my minds’ eye endlessly.

If I were never again to feel your skin, like silk beneath my caress, I shall cut off my hands,
that I might never feel another beneath them, that I might never feel myself beneath them,
that I might relish your touch in distant pleasure always.

If I were never again to hear your voice, that sweet melody to my weary ears, I shall sew them shut,
that I might never hear another honeyed sound, not in music, nor moans, nor mundane mouthings,
that I might preserve forever the last enchanting utterances to pass through your rose lips.

If I were never again to smell you, that rich, earthy scent that drives me mad, I shall plug it up,
that I might never soak in a pleasing smell, that I might never let the stenches of the day-to-day,
keep me from forever adoring the varying, yet haunting fragrances of you.

If I were never again to taste you, those sugared velvet lips, I shall take out my own tongue,
that I might never enjoy neither worldly fare nor the flavor of another,
that I might savor you in memory for all eternity.

If I were never again to have you, a painful return to the dark ages, I would cast myself wholly and completely into watery depths or rising flames,
that I might never experience time and space without you, love.
The title —αναίσθητος χωρίς αγάπη —is Greek for senseless without love.
Lunar Nov 2020
I can't smell the blood,
I can't taste the tears,
I can't see the pain,
I can't hear my heart break.

I can only feel it.
I can't even think, and/so I don't even know why.

Feel better soon, self.

(j.m.)
Iris Aug 2020
When I open my ears,
I can hear a symphony of beautiful sounds.
But it is too often that I let my ears go to waste,
and only keep my eyes wide open,
although they are unseeing.
Roro Aug 2020
Sweet melting ice cream
Sunrise beamed in blue and pink
Snowflakes drizzling, a silent scream
Soft pillows for her cheek to sink
Scents filling her nose like a sweet stream
Lying in her same bed
Eyes open but not awake
Senseless to her frozen core
Not sure if it’s all fake
Her reality now a distant dream
Memories of the world she made, erased
The rainbow sprinkled donut that was her life
She couldn’t recognize or taste
Derealization can make someone feel the world and life they built around them is not real, like living in a hazy dream in an unrecognizable place.
Moth Jan 2020
Can you see it?
rivets of rain
rush to rivers

Can you hear it?
dripling to drops
dream like dollops

Can you feel it?
softly and sacredly
saccharine on skin

Can you taste it?
flirty and flowing
fresh like flowers

Can you smell it?
mystic like memories
mossy and moorish
m i a Dec 2015
Touch---*
her skin was soft, but rough at the same time. Almost as if it were a canvas, waiting to be coloured.
im doing this thing with five senses. its kind of hard, i was hoping to collab with someone? yes? no? maybe not?  just message meee. cx
Natalie Thompson Jan 2015
I cannot see
the emotions of your face
I cannot hear
the sound of your voice
I cannot feel
the warmth of you skin
I cannot smell
the scent of your clothes
I cannot taste
the words of your mind
The miles
are measured with faith
The miles
are measured with trust
I cannot wait
to see the happiness in your eyes
I cannot wait
to hear the joy in your laughter
I cannot wait
to feel the softness of your touch
I cannot wait
to smell the aroma of your hug
I cannot wait
to taste the kiss of your lips
The five senses of you
LJ Eaddy Jan 2015
Smell this.
There is a great stench among us.
It's stinking up society
And the justice system.
It's ruining a nation's deepest beliefs.
It's spoiling the achievement of a next generation.
It's pungent.

Taste this.
Even I can taste it on my tongue,
But I'm too much of a lover
To let it part from my thoughts.
It's meat rotting, turning to maggots.
It's poison festering deep in the core of man
And dispersing through his pores.

Hear this.
The wailing of a mother
As she cries for the life of her son.
The same yell screamed by
The crowned young ******
As she watched our Savior be nailed to a cross.
It's screeching.

See this.
A child.
A child slain
In the unjust ways of society.
A child bleeding life
Onto a cold, heartless ground.
A child. A child
Dying in broad daylight.
A child's smile,
Once brighter than a million suns
Going dark. Burning out.
It's flame, once ablaze,
Tiptoeing dimmer into darkness.

Feel this!
Warm blood.
Hot bullet.
Cold hearted.
Allow your fingers to tremble
Across the badge
That's rough around the edges.
That's connected to your assassin.
Feel the victim's hope disintegrate
With his breath.
Feel his mother's heartache.
Feel God's disappointment.

Sense this.
Sense innocence.
Sense wrongness.
Sense injustice.
But can you truly sense
The senseless
Of the situation?
ThingsWillChange Jul 2014
7/7/3030
8:22 AM

Can you hear the warning?
It roars.

Can you feel the ground?
It shakes.

Can you smell the fear?
It's contagious.

Can you taste the death?
It's coming.

Can you see the chaos?
It's here.

Goodbye old world.
Poem Two in The End Collection, A Story Formed by Poems

— The End —