The 5 Senses Poem Challenge

[BooMerengue]

I'm just saying I love your poem and it made me laugh. I am not writing about sand-blown cotton candy cause it sounds too yech to me.

I LOVE making you laugh!

 

[Angeline]

hear: rustle of leaves
smell: mint
taste: honey
see: taxi
feel: a massage

Sir Rustle of Leaves wanted money.
"May I ride in your taxi?" asked Honey
"Well, massaging's a hint
and I'll pay YOU a Mint!"
"Well I just do not think that thats funny!"


This is a good example of what a limerick sounds like when you're watching Anthony Bourdain, getting dressed for lunch out, and trying to catch a crafty cat who needs a pill!

But like ol Johnny said... "Let it be..."


hear: any old Beatle tune
smell: Mississippi's Muddy Water
taste: Eat A Peach (Allman Bros.)
see: 59th Street Bridge
feel: a hot summer night

Of course this is for anyone and all if you like, but specially for Ange, and ee? Get off yer duff, boy! Throw a pen at him Ange. Hard.

He's currently having a snooze on the living room couch pursuant to making dinner. EE's on grill duty tonight. So you are stuck with me.

She said she wished she were
an octopus so we sang I'd Like
to Be Under the Sea but I wasn't

thinking of briny deeps or even
the denouement of a summer
afternoon, slanting stripes

beneath the boardwalk cool
and dank, salt on the breath
and sandy pants. No, I was

in a lake of yer blues muddied
water, weeds and minnows,
an occasional leech, dark

as cedar shifting on stones
drifting by creeks, thickets under
and aboveground draining

to rivers, bays where bridges
span distance and the great orb
like a peach melts night onto the waves

for me, ocean child.

There's a Beatles song for every occasion
even when there isn't and then you sing
for no one.

hear: a circus
smell: cotton candy
taste: someone's mouth
see: fire
feel: excited

 

[Remec]

hear: a circus
smell: cotton candy
taste: someone's mouth
see: fire
feel: excited

Somewhere,
behind us,
before us,
just around the corner,
I almost swore I heard
the familiar mix of animals,
clowns, laughing children,
and the special jingle of
badly recorded,
badly tuned,
calliope tunes

but that sense was dulled
by the immediacy of having our
lips and tongues playing
tag with themselves,
and being awash in the spongy pink
smell of the cotton candy still
lingering on your breath, while
wondering if my excitement was
as evident as I felt
like it
was.

~~~~~
smell: rotten fish
hear: screeching tires
taste: ketchup
see: stormclouds
feel: denim

 

[BooMerengue]

For UnderYourSpell!

Here we go! These are AWFUL words, btw! But I've been doubly challenged so... (btw, I italicized so I could go back to read w/o having to use the scroller. It's a pain...

smell: rotten fish
hear: screeching tires
taste: ketchup
see: stormclouds
feel: denim


Running! Running
til she has no breath to breathe...
She ducks under the boardwalk.
Can't find me here.
But then she hears
screeching tires.
Breath flies away again
to mingle with the stormy clouds.
Scrambling... looking for another place
to hide, denim jeans slipping,
sliding in the rotten fish.
This cant be how it ends!
she's screaming silently.
Not here. Not now.
But I had to have that rock,
and I had no bread so I
just snatched it. Such a little. For this.
Her breath is raspy, but she knows her last
is soon. When they catch up to her.

smell: fall leaves
hear: chanting
taste: rich red wine
see: full moon
hear: dogs barking

 

[UnderYourSpell]

For UnderYourSpell!

Here we go! These are AWFUL words, btw! But I've been doubly challenged so... (btw, I italicized so I could go back to read w/o having to use the scroller. It's a pain...

smell: rotten fish
hear: screeching tires
taste: ketchup
see: stormclouds
feel: denim


Running! Running
til she has no breath to breathe...
She ducks under the boardwalk.
Can't find me here.
But then she hears
screeching tires.
Breath flies away again
to mingle with the stormy clouds.
Scrambling... looking for another place
to hide, denim jeans slipping,
sliding in the rotten fish.
This cant be how it ends!
she's screaming silently.
Not here. Not now.
But I had to have that rock,
and I had no bread so I
just snatched it. Such a little. For this.
Her breath is raspy, but she knows her last
is soon. When they catch up to her.

smell: fall leaves
hear: chanting
taste: rich red wine
see: full moon
hear: dogs barking

strewth Boo you gave me quite a turn and even if this makes me sound odder than usual I'll tell you why! I've always had this 'knowledge' that I've lived before and I drowned in dark water caught under boarding of some kind

 

[UnderYourSpell]

smell: fall leaves
hear: chanting
taste: rich red wine
see: full moon
hear: dogs barking

In the woods
under the full moon
we danced, called, and laughing
fell to roll amongst the leaves.
I clutched you to me
the rich red wine made me bold
and the distant chant
fired out souls.
Even the barking of dogs
drawing closer
seemed suspended
in a different world,
Oh my God yes
right here, fingers probed
until we fell into the abyss
together, then rose
and flew as one.

smell; turpentine
hear; bottles clinking
taste; peppermint
see; tears
hear; clock striking

 

[BooMerengue]

smell: fall leaves
hear: chanting
taste: rich red wine
see: full moon
hear: dogs barking

In the woods
under the full moon
we danced, called, and laughing
fell to roll amongst the leaves.
I clutched you to me
the rich red wine made me bold
and the distant chant
fired out souls.
Even the barking of dogs
drawing closer
seemed suspended
in a different world,
Oh my God yes
right here, fingers probed
until we fell into the abyss
together, then rose
and flew as one.

smell; turpentine
hear; bottles clinking
taste; peppermint
see; tears
hear; clock striking

Good job, Babe! Considering you'd had no sleep, its pretty damn good.

Now. Has everyone else quit? Theres so many viewing yet not speaking. Has this become the place where lurkers congregate? Cuz I KNOW UYS and I aren't so damn good y'all are intimidated. C'mon, you people. WRITE!!!

 

[Angeline]

smell: fall leaves
hear: chanting
taste: rich red wine
see: full moon
hear: dogs barking

In the woods
under the full moon
we danced, called, and laughing
fell to roll amongst the leaves.
I clutched you to me
the rich red wine made me bold
and the distant chant
fired out souls.
Even the barking of dogs
drawing closer
seemed suspended
in a different world,
Oh my God yes
right here, fingers probed
until we fell into the abyss
together, then rose
and flew as one.

smell; turpentine
hear; bottles clinking
taste; peppermint
see; tears
hear; clock striking

The moon is my shepherd
in the doo wop night,
New Jersey neon, hot dogs
and factories.

Champale
is the champagne of malt
liquor and dim basements
where turpentine lingers,
sheets dance in a line
when the noontime
factory whistles, seltzer
bottles in a wood case
clank against the stoop
before the delivery truck
huffs away.

When peppermint grows old
it fades, just like lavender
or pressed honeysuckle,
petals crumbling from pages
like so many dried tears.

When church bells ring
or a clock strikes the hour
you think of cabbage roses
on the carpet, a tiny yard
and all that cement.

smell; October
hear; traffic
taste; water
see; the moon
hear; leaves

 

[DeepGreenEyes]

The moon is my shepherd
in the doo wop night,
New Jersey neon, hot dogs
and factories.

Champale
is the champagne of malt
liquor and dim basements
where turpentine lingers,
sheets dance in a line
when the noontime
factory whistles, seltzer
bottles in a wood case
clank against the stoop
before the delivery truck
huffs away.

When peppermint grows old
it fades, just like lavender
or pressed honeysuckle,
petals crumbling from pages
like so many dried tears.

When church bells ring
or a clock strikes the hour
you think of cabbage roses
on the carpet, a tiny yard
and all that cement.

smell; October
hear; traffic
taste; water
see; the moon
hear; leaves

When October looks up at me from
its languid summer read
And curls its toes in cooling sand
Restlessly
Well, then
It's time to go in.
Time to clack and snick
the frayed aluminum beach chair
And snap the terry towels in the purpling air
To return grit and memory and empty claws
to the forever saltwater pitch
Next summer they'll wash up again
Under the arched, itching feet of different men.
As I clatter across the warm pavement
Busking traffic pushing the first yellow leaves
to my ankles
I glance up, sunweary
At the moon
And think of the almost-empty plate
At the Italian restaurant where we talked
Waiters shuffling in the shadows
at closing time.




Smell: earth
Hear: lock turning
Taste: barbecue sauce
See: rust
Feel: coins

 

[BooMerengue]

smell; October
hear; traffic
taste; water
see; the moon
hear; leaves

I see the Moon up there; She thinks She'll reign
my world as I run light upon the sand
but its My World, and I have other plans
for now I know I've nothing more to gain

Chill winds have blown October over me
embracing me as once my lover tried
above the dunes I hear the traffic die
and listen for the footsteps in the leaves

He's come for me again; this time I know
there is no place left where my life will fit
so when he takes my hand right here we'll sit
and I will say "the water- when we go"

He nods at me and glances at the Moon
he's won. She knows but cannot turn away
yet watches as I step into the waves
and kiss this world goodbye; it's none too soon.

 

[BooMerengue]

See? I killed it. Everytime I post everyone walks away. Damn.

 

[champagne1982]

But Boo, what are your five senses sensing?

Tell us what we see, hear, smell, feel and taste please. We need direction. LOL

 

[BooMerengue]

But Boo, what are your five senses sensing?

Tell us what we see, hear, smell, feel and taste please. We need direction. LOL

Oh! My bad! I forgot. Lemmee see...

smell; heat from the street
hear; discordant banjos, repeating same riff, over and over
taste; cake icing
see; waves, very thin and silky
feel; guilty, happy

 

[Angeline]

Oh! My bad! I forgot. Lemmee see...

smell; heat from the street
hear; discordant banjos, repeating same riff, over and over
taste; cake icing
see; waves, very thin and silky
feel; guilty, happy

August shimmers noon
metallic tang to drown my sense
in lethargy in restlessness
while somewhere up the mountain
banjos ring discordant jigs against
the oak and rain like tin, all plink
and jangle on the roof of discontent
forever hanging like a rainbow
drained to bands of gray.

I'll never be so sweet as icing tipped
and twirled, perfected on the cake
for even as the music plays
its same bright notes I'll ache,
my dreams will slip until
I'm dipping toes into a thin
and silken spatter on the edge
of some imagined sea, happy sad
within the guilt that what I want
the most is ever far away
from me.



smell: rain
hear: birdcall
taste: salt
see: dunes
feel: restless

 

[BooMerengue]

August shimmers noon
metallic tang to drown my sense
in lethargy in restlessness
while somewhere up the mountain
banjos ring discordant jigs against
the oak and rain like tin, all plink
and jangle on the roof of discontent
forever hanging like a rainbow
drained to bands of gray.

I'll never be so sweet as icing tipped
and twirled, perfected on the cake
for even as the music plays
its same bright notes I'll ache,
my dreams will slip until
I'm dipping toes into a thin
and silken spatter on the edge
of some imagined sea, happy sad
within the guilt that what I want
the most is ever far away
from me.



smell: rain
hear: birdcall
taste: salt
see: dunes
feel: restless

wow. i don't know why i like you. you make this easy and perfect. grrr...

 

[Angeline]

wow. i don't know why i like you. you make this easy and perfect. grrr...

It helps if you listen to jazz and have a really bad case of sinusitis, apparently.

 

[Tzara]

smell: rain
hear: birdcall
taste: salt
see: dunes
feel: restless

Cannon Beach

I slept nervous in the night,
twitching about like a cat
until one lone gull

shrieked before dawn
and finally woke me, shivering.
We had left the curtains open

over the beach
and I could see the moon's
bright line crossing the water, the beat

of waves upon the shore.
When I stepped out onto the deck,
everything smelled forest,

as if the clouds settled on the mountains
spit west toward the sea.
Tomorrow we will climb the dunes

south of Florence, but here
the whole world is flat and wide and free
and even our morning bacon tastes of sea.


Smell: ash or burning
Hear: crunch sound
Taste: sour or biting
See: moving water
Feel: ambitious

 

[Angeline]

Cannon Beach

I slept nervous in the night,
twitching about like a cat
until one lone gull

shrieked before dawn
and finally woke me, shivering.
We had left the curtains open

over the beach
and I could see the moon's
bright line crossing the water, the beat

of waves upon the shore.
When I stepped out onto the deck,
everything smelled forest,

as if the clouds settled on the mountains
spit west toward the sea.
Tomorrow we will climb the dunes

south of Florence, but here
the whole world is flat and wide and free
and even our morning bacon tastes of sea.


Smell: ash or burning
Hear: crunch sound
Taste: sour or biting
See: moving water
Feel: ambitious

Lovely.

 

[Sirena84]

Remembered Touch

Smell: ash or burning
Hear: crunch sound
Taste: sour or biting
See: moving water
Feel: ambitious

My hand glide below the waterline
Slipping down my skin
Warm rushing water envelopes me
While fingers venture in

The candles soft glowing nearby
Incense burning in the air
My eyes close languidly
As my hand grips my hair

My touch becoming hurried
Fingers working to bring bliss
I try to recreate his touch
One I can't bare to miss

I think if him and hear his step
The crunching of his hand
Hands that touched and comforted
Gone much sooner than planned

My hand working faster now
Ambition never slows
Biting into fingernails
Bitter taste as pleasure grows

My breath is short, I hold my breasts
Thinking of his mouth on me
How his tongue teased and tasted
Setting my mind free

I feel my climax nearing
As tears flow down my face
I shatter into pieces
Wishing he were in this place


Smell: Wet stone
Taste: Spring water
See: Swaying trees
Hear: Owl
Feel: Trepidation

 

[BooMerengue]

Smell: Wet stone
Taste: Spring water
See: Swaying trees
Hear: Owl
Feel: Trepidation

Come with me, Little One, in the dark, far from home
Watch your step, Little One; smell the moss on the stones
Watch me close Pretty Thing
Feel the fear as it swings
Hear the hoot as He sings
"You should run from this Park!"

Almost there Little One, Almost home to The Stone
Watch the wind as it changes the limbs into bones
As the Stars turn their backs
And The Moon shines so black
Yet my knife, 'hind my back
Freshly gleams, newly honed.

Climb up here Little One, climb up high on this Stone
Pretty Thing, Pretty Thing- Mama left you alone
Kiss me quick, kiss me sweet
Close your eyes, think of treats
Stretch your neck; I'll be neat
Fly fast, Soul! Fly back home!



I don't know why but as soon as I saw the new senses I thought of a nursery rhyme. I know this needs work, if I deem it fit to be kept. Sometimes I worry about me. laughing softly... but not often!

Smell: Night jasmine
Taste: ice
See: lightning
Hear: snake rattles
Feel: deep deep joy

 

[Tzara]

Lovely.

Thanks, m'dear. Yours as well, of course.

And those by Boo and Sirena as well.

A community writes together. Just sayin'.

Y'all be well.

 

[BooMerengue]

Hi Tzara! How are you?

 

[CharleyH]

Taste: Pomegranate
Touch: Sand
Smell: Sandalwood
See: Red
Hear: Breathe

Damn, I had a good story for this, but alas just noticed this is a poetry thread.

 

[CharleyH]

Cannon Beach

I slept nervous in the night,
twitching about like a cat
until one lone gull

shrieked before dawn
and finally woke me, shivering.
We had left the curtains open

over the beach
and I could see the moon's
bright line crossing the water, the beat

of waves upon the shore.
When I stepped out onto the deck,
everything smelled forest,

as if the clouds settled on the mountains
spit west toward the sea.
Tomorrow we will climb the dunes

south of Florence, but here
the whole world is flat and wide and free
and even our morning bacon tastes of sea.


Smell: ash or burning
Hear: crunch sound
Taste: sour or biting
See: moving water
Feel: ambitious

Love the pace at the beginning.

 

[Neonurotic]

Smell: Night jasmine
Taste: ice
See: lightning
Hear: snake rattles
Feel: deep deep joy

Moab

Monsoons fell on the red dirt
chasing diamondbacks under flat rocks
with an angry rattle of their tails.
Though it's the hiss of rain on desert dry-
cracked earth we find to be more menacing
as floods could wash us out.

"Scared?" I ask
"Are you?"
She grins, flipping night jasmine, wet hair
out of her eyes, her eyes flash with lightening.
She leaps like a mountain lion
and we are ass over tea kettle, rolling
in the mud. A fever and a fight
who gets top, her. It's the wet squelch
under my shoulder blades and heels
that she wins, throwing off clothes.

We move serpentine, naked in the
ooze, caked in the clay slime.
Rain turns to hail,
hell, HELL! Laughing, shivering joy,
I inadvertently taste ice in her long kiss.
We are muddy but we are happy,
slippery satisfied.

All I can think of is that I will
remember this every monsoon and I do.



Smell: cigarette smoke
Taste: beer
See: a blond
Hear: acoustic guitar
Feel: sad