Sense

A poem about the 5 main senses, and the value of them.

  There are many senses,

It is argued there are over twenty two.
Are the original ones not jealous?
I know I'm always jealous when someone is new.

  Touch is a wondrous thing

As it allows pain, which is important
And stability. Your hands and fingertips
Give unimaginable amount of information,
Yet it is valued less and less.
The feel of temperature has been separated,
But that doesn't take away the smooth texture of skin,
Or the rough of a sponge. The prick of a pin.
  Taste is a strange thing.
It is actually my most prominent sense,
My memory for taste is next to none!
I can fool myself into thinking I am eating,
Though it's not a fraction of what it really feels like,
The mixtures of taste sensations in a mixed sandwich,
Or the ideas you pick up; the last thing the person you are kissing had to eat
Or drank. Both food and drink, and even poison. The bitter or the sweet,
We have our taste buds to thank: the sensory dopamine tank.
  Sight comes and goes. It is probably one of the weakest.
Though we value it in such high regard.
Colours, shapes, textures. It gives us the knowledge of memory
So the other senses know exactly what to expect - Before it happens!
Sight gives expectations, and superficial relations.
Even eyes themselves have colour that can only be seen by others.
But is it more more important than it's sensory brothers?
I put to you a cliché.
If you had to choose, would you rather be blind or deaf?
  Because hearing is under appreciated.
Music gives emotions,
It gives feelings of people, and voices as distinct as faces.
The value of listening to someone without even questioning
Looks is the purest of thought? Judging someone
For who they really are.
Hearing used to include balance, but now it's counted as separate.
But imagine hearing the world in mono!
I think we'd all get a little bit desperate.
  This only leaves smell of the elite.
The olfactory information which second to none judges attraction.
Smell is spread through particles in the air,
And they give us instant feelings to what it is we prefer.
The smell of him or the smell of her,
No smell at all is all that would make them a blur.
  So with senses being added and debated anew,
Nothing can change the elite of the main sensory few.
Call them sub-categories or call them their own.
Nothing can beat what our senses have already known.

Reviews

[The Cobra Lounge]

Yet it is valued less and less.
The feel of temperature has been separated,
But that doesn't take away the smooth texture of skin,
Or the rough of a sponge. The prick of a pin.


This is incredibly cool. To write well...we need to describe the senses better than well. That's where the magic of metaphors come into play. A persuasive writer can engage all of the senses.....without it...is sensory deprivation...the reader will not be interested. I know we underestimate the power of smell..sight...taste..and touch....we are much more than that. Clever penning...

[Demi Rose]

it is a bit avant garde for me but still a tasteful poem.

[Mark11]

Really good, quirky poetry. Especially like the "Sensory Dopamine Tank". I think people tend to think less and less about their senses, taking them for granted. This makes you think a little about them and what is really going on. Once again, Bravo

[Lily Mae]

The senses know everything first we get the messages second hand.. I love it..xx great write..x

[Raven Starhawk]

Your style is delicate yet with a strong narrative voice. I didn't find anything wrong with grammar and I read closely. In my opinion you did very well.

[Daniel88Batson]

I like it. But MAYBE split it up into separate stanza's???
I do love your quirky pieces though. Real good!

[SilentVerses]

I like it, simple elegant words spoken with a voice of conversation, questioning and dancing through a story of conscious stream. It twists what is known as a given, taken for granted we live a life based on the little things, missing nothing we toss away our days without embracing what human nature has given us. Sensory words without an overload of conflicting description, images dance within the melody you have created, that though in the mind of the reader seems a reality nonetheless. Perhaps 'I put to you a cliche?' made 'cliche:' though perhaps the rhetorical is the voice you are wanting.