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People like passion in politics.

quote by Ed Gillespie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Passion

(rod stewart / chen, savigar, cregan, grainger)
Somebody somewhere
In the heat of the night
Looking pretty dangerous
Running out of patience
Tonight in the city
You wont find any pity
Hearts are being twisted
Another lover cheated, cheated
In the bars and the cafes, passion
In the streets and the alleys, passion
A lot of pretending, passion
Everybody searching, passion
Once in love youre never out of danger
One hot night spent with a stranger
All you wanted was somebody to hold on to yeah
Passion, passion
Passion, passion
New york, moscow, passion
Hong kong, tokyo, passion
Paris and bangkok, passion
A lotta people aint got, passion
Hear it in the radio, passion
Read it in the papers, passion
Hear it in the churches, passion
See it in the school yards, passion
Once in love youre never out of danger
One hot night spent with a stranger
All you wanted was somebody to hold on to yeah
Once in love youre never out of danger
One hot night spent with a stranger
All you wanted was somebody to hold on to yeah
Alone in your bed at night, passion
Its half past midnight, passion
As you turn out your sidelight, passion
Something aint right, passion
Theres no passion, theres no passion
Theres no passion, I need passion
You need passion, we need passion
Cant live without passion
Wont live without passion
Even the president needs passion
Everybody I know needs some passion
Some people die and kill for passion
Nobody admits they need passion
Some people are scared of passion
Yeah passion

song performed by Rod Stewart
Added by Lucian Velea
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The things I love with a passion

I rock and roll with passion
I talk out my soul with a passion

I eat good food with passion
I defeat bad mood with a passion

I sleep well with passion
I weep hell with a passion

I dream endlessly with passion
I gleam ceaselessly with a passion

I aim for money with passion
I do the same for honey with a passion

I listen carefully with passion
I glisten dutifully with a passion

I search for fame with passion
I research to blame with a passion

I walk everyday with passion
I talk and play with a passion

I embrace life with passion
I face nightlife with a passion

I laugh out with passion
I chaffe about with a passion

I cook with others with passion
I look at mothers with a passion

I touch gently with passion
I clutch tightly with a passion

I work hard with a passion
I rock mad with a passion

I gear up goals with passion
I stir up roles with a passion

I make friends with passion
I take weekends with a passion

I love kissing with passion
I love teasing with a passion

I make love with passion
I take from above with a passion

[...] Read more

poem by Sylvia Chidi
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The Screams Of Passion

Performed by the family
{from the family (1985)}
Woah, no. woah, yeah.
Woah, no, woah no, yeah, yeah
Theres a gentle autumn breeze
That blows whenever we be lyin
Lyin in my bed
The moon appears and disappears
U look at me, my clothes I quickly
I quickly shed
The curtains dance a minuet
Autumn plays the music baby
Come on hold my hand
Leaves are fallin velvet splash
Only u and I can under
Only u can understand
The sunlight draws a picture
Through the silky lace that hangs above your
Hangs above your door
A picture that is waving
That is seems to be with every thrust
U make me beg for more
A robin sings a masterpiece
That lives and dies unheard
For screams of passion
A sound produced by two in love (oh, two in love)
Curtains dance and autumn plays on (and on and on)
The screams of passion
All I hear in my [head/hair]
Echoing like a volcano baby
The screams of passion
Back and forth the raging seas of lust
I want u madly
Cant u tell, cant u tell
Cant u tell, cant u tell, ow!
Take me in your arms, oh baby
The crime is done
Id rather die here in your
Screams of passion (woah, hold me now, baby)
Tell me that u [want/love] me (tell me that u [want/love] me)
Is it sunday or is it passion?
The screams of passion (the screams of passion, yeah)
The screams of... the screams of...
The screams of passion (passion)
Yeah! (shhh, not so loud, baby)
Yeah! (shhh, shhh)
The screams of passion
The screams of passion
The screams of passion
The screams of... the screams of...

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Plastic Passion

Plastic passion is a hard to handle
Plastic passion is a sold out scandal
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is the ladies lover
Plastic passion is the marble mother
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a diamond delight
Plastic passion is the nadir of night
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a hycoscine heart
Plastic passion is a transparent tart
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a gold guarantee
The plastic passion is murdering me
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion

song performed by Cure
Added by Lucian Velea
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Passion Of Life

To achieve something great in the world you need Passion
To fulfill vision, a great leader’s courage comes from Passion
Whatever it may be, you must find your Passion
If passion drives you, let reason hold the reins
Follow your passion and success will follow you!

Never underestimate the power of passion
Without passion religion is spiritless
Without Passion history is meaningless
Without Passion art is useless
Follow your passion and success will follow you!

When you take up a mission with passion
There are no dreams too large
No innovation unimaginable
No frontiers beyond reach
Follow your passion and success will follow you!

Our passions are the winds that propel our vessel
Our reason is the pilot that steers her
Without winds the vessel would not move
Without a pilot she would be lost
Follow your passion and success will follow you!

There is no end and there is no beginning
There is only the passion of life
Passion is universal humanity
Passion is the genesis of genius
Follow your passion and success will follow you!
********************************************* ************************************

poem by Pooja Natarajan
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All Different, But Still The Same

Some people have short hair, some have long.
Some people have thick hair; some people’s hair is all gone.

Some people have black hair, some have gray.
Some people have brown hair, some blonde, some red.
Some people’s hair a color unsaid.

Some people are short, some people are tall.
Some people will love you; some won’t like you at all.

Some people like hot weather, some like cold.
Some people are timid, some people are bold.
Some people have dark skin, some people have light.
Some people have black skin, some people have white.

Some people eat meat; some won’t touch it at all.
Some people have a good memory, some can’t recall.
Some people accept Christ, some never will.
Some people are stingy, some people give.

Some people like school, some people don’t.
Some people will excel, some people won’t.
Some people smoke cigarettes, some never will.
Some people are honest, some people steal.

Some people have book knowledge;
But don’t know the Holy Book.
Some people burn food, some people can cook.

Some people are old, some people are young.
Some people do smart things, some people do dumb.

Some people just have a diploma
Some people have degrees.
Some people do things slow, some with a breeze.
Some people are complainers, some easy to please.

Some people hate shopping, some stay in the mall.
Some people hate God, but God loves us all.

We are all different, but still the same.

When I get cut, I bleed red;
You get cut, red blood you’ll shed.

Some people are plump, some people are thin.
But we are all the same, we’re all human being.

Copyright © 2010-Phyllis Strong

poem by Phyllis Strong
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Canto the Twelfth

I
Of all the barbarous middle ages, that
Which is most barbarous is the middle age
Of man; it is -- I really scarce know what;
But when we hover between fool and sage,
And don't know justly what we would be at --
A period something like a printed page,
Black letter upon foolscap, while our hair
Grows grizzled, and we are not what we were; --

II
Too old for youth, -- too young, at thirty-five,
To herd with boys, or hoard with good threescore, --
I wonder people should be left alive;
But since they are, that epoch is a bore:
Love lingers still, although 't were late to wive;
And as for other love, the illusion's o'er;
And money, that most pure imagination,
Gleams only through the dawn of its creation.

III
O Gold! Why call we misers miserable?
Theirs is the pleasure that can never pall;
Theirs is the best bower anchor, the chain cable
Which holds fast other pleasures great and small.
Ye who but see the saving man at table,
And scorn his temperate board, as none at all,
And wonder how the wealthy can be sparing,
Know not what visions spring from each cheese-paring.

IV
Love or lust makes man sick, and wine much sicker;
Ambition rends, and gaming gains a loss;
But making money, slowly first, then quicker,
And adding still a little through each cross
(Which will come over things), beats love or liquor,
The gamester's counter, or the statesman's dross.
O Gold! I still prefer thee unto paper,
Which makes bank credit like a bank of vapour.

V
Who hold the balance of the world? Who reign
O'er congress, whether royalist or liberal?
Who rouse the shirtless patriots of Spain? [*]
(That make old Europe's journals squeak and gibber all.)
Who keep the world, both old and new, in pain
Or pleasure? Who make politics run glibber all?
The shade of Buonaparte's noble daring? --
Jew Rothschild, and his fellow-Christian, Baring.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Pleasure. Book II.

The Argument

Solomon, again seeking happiness, inquires if wealth and greatness can produce it: begins with the magnificence of gardens and buildings; the luxury of music and feasting; and proceeds to the hopes and desires of love. In two episodes are shown the follies and troubles of that passion. Solomon, still disappointed, falls under the temptations of libertinism and idolatry; recovers his thought; reasons aright; and concludes that, as to the pursuit of pleasure and sensual delight, All Is Vanity and Vexation of Spirit.

Try then, O man, the moments to deceive
That from the womb attend thee to the grave:
For wearied Nature find some apter scheme;
Health be thy hope, and pleasure be thy theme;
From the perplexing and unequal ways
Where Study brings thee from the endless maze
Which Doubt persuades o run, forewarn'd, recede
To the gay field, and flowery path, that lead
To jocund mirth, soft joy, and careless ease:
Forsake what my instruct for what may please:
Essay amusing art and proud expense,
And make thy reason subject to thy sense.

I communed thus: the power of wealth I tried,
And all the various luxe of costly pride;
Artists and plans relieved my solemn hours:
I founded palaces and planted bowers,
Birds, fishes, beasts, of exotic kind
I to the limits of my court confined,
To trees transferr'd I gave a second birth,
And bade a foreign shade grace Judah's earth.
Fish-ponds were made where former forests grew
And hills were levell'd to extend the view.
Rivers, diverted from their native course,
And bound with chains of artificial force,
From large cascades in pleasing tumult roll'd,
Or rose through figured stone or breathing gold.
From furthest Africa's tormented womb
The marble brought, erects the spacious dome,
Or forms the pillars' long-extended rows,
On which the planted grove and pensile garden grows.

The workmen here obey the master's call,
To gild the turret and to paint the wall;
To mark the pavement there with various stone,
And on the jasper steps to rear the throne:
The spreading cedar, that an age had stood,
Supreme of trees, and mistress of the wood,
Cut down and carved, my shining roof adorns,
And Lebanon his ruin'd honour mourns.

A thousand artists show their cunning powers
To raise the wonders of the ivory towers:
A thousand maidens ply the purple loom

[...] Read more

poem by Matthew Prior
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Friends, Passion and Friends No More

I have seen Passion Storm
and sweep away obstacles.

Did Romeo and Juliet's
passions storm;
such that only death could
their passions stay?

Witness raging desire;
hearts bursting;
love amok;
mouths rampant;
where loins ache.

I have seen these tempests blow
seating themselves
in life's centers
swirling down among
those of us who love
with every passion mote
we possess;
gladly we give it
don't we?

For to fall into passion
is to become possessed
of the sweet possession
that tingles the soul
and massages
all our secret places.

But still,
who has not seen passion too,
prove too strong for friends
who slept together for the first time
to find passion imagined
is not passion gained;
both then
sometimes lose
both passion's touch
and friendship's solace-
both equal sweet
to the tongue-
both bitter in the mouth's regrets.

Friendship goes sometimes
tamped down by passion's regrets;
trailing away in the misty past
'good friends'
making love receding.

[...] Read more

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Some People

Some people seem to have it all
Some people always have to crawl
Some people pay to be abused
Some people end up destitute
Some people search their souls for truth
Some people try to be of use
Some people pray before they kill
Some people kill just for the thrill
Some people follow one mans vision, some others die on television
Some people build their homes on sand, some people live in garbage cans
Some people think that live is dear, some people hope the end is near
Some people fight for right to life, some people hate to stay alive
Some people dream of life on mars, some people end their life in cars
Some people throw their lives away, some others go on holidays
Some people live and love in vain, some people dont and go insane
Some people always need to win, some other people love to sin
Some people breaking all their vows, some people slashing sacred cows
Some people like to worship stars, some people think the worlds a farce
Some people try to make ends meet, some others end up kissing feet
Some people find their holy grail, some other people go to hell
Some people never catch their breath, some people drink themselves to death
Some people seem to have it all, some people always have to crawl
Some people pay to be abused, some people end up destitute
Some people search their souls for truth
Some people try to be of use
Some people
!
Gold/ocean/1994

song performed by Alphaville
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ordinary People

In a dusty town a clock struck high noon, two men stood face to face.
One wore black and one wore white, but of fear there wasnt a trace.
Two hundred years later two hot rods drag through the very same place,
And a half a million people
Moved in to pick up the pace, a factory full of people.
Makin parts to go to outer space, a train load of people.
They were aimin for another place, out of town people.
Theres a man in the window with a big cigar, says everythings for sale.
The house and the boat and the railroad car, the owners gotta go to jail.
He acquired these things from a life of crime, now hes selling them to raise his bail.
He was rippin off the people.
Sellin guns to the underground, tryin to help the people.
Lose their ass for a piece of ground, rippin off the people.
Skimmin the top when there was no one around, tryin to help the people.
He was dealing antiques in a hardware store but he sure had a lot to hide.
He had a backroom full of the guns of war and a ton of ammunition besides.
Well, he walked with a cane, kept a bolt on the door with five pit bulls inside,
Just a warning to the people
Who might try to break in at night, protection from the people.
Selling safety in the darkest night, tryin to help the people.
Get the drugs to the street all right, ordinary people.
Well, its hard to say where a man goes wrong, might be here and it might be there.
What starts out weak might get too strong, if you cant tell foul from fair.
But its hard to judge from an angry throng of hands stretched into the air,
The vigilante people.
Takin law into their own hands, conscientious people.
Crackin down on the druglords land, government people.
Confiscatin all the dealers land, patch-of-ground people.
Down at the factory, theyre puttin new windows in.
The vandals made a mess of things, and the homeless just walked right in.
Well, they worked here once, and they live here now, but they might work here again,
Theyre ordinary people.
And theyre livin in a nightmare, hard workin people.
And they dont know how they go there, ordinary people.
And they think that you dont care, hard workin people.
Down on the assembly line, they keep puttin the same thing out.
But the people today, they just aint buyin, nobody can figure it out.
Well, they try like hell to build a quality end, theyre workin hard without a doubt,
Theyre ordinary people.
And the dollars what its all about, hard workin people.
But the customers are walkin out, lee iacocca people.
Yeah, they look but they just dont buy, hard workin people.
Two out of work models and a fashion slave try to dance away the michelob night.
The bartender poured himself another drink, while two drunks sat watchin the fight.
The champ went down, then he got up again, and then he went out like a light,
He was fightin for the people.
But his timing wasnt right, for las vegas people
Who came to see a las vegas fight, high rollin people.
Takin limos though the neon night, fightin for the people.
And then a new rolls royce and a company car they went flyin down the street.

[...] Read more

song performed by Neil Young
Added by Lucian Velea
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That Little Hole

Some people keep their love in a safe, then forget the combination
Some people think life's a masquerade ball, keeping up with the latest fashion
Some people sell dreams like rag magazines, on the busy fast food city street corners
Some people give, some people take, Some people share, some people fake
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Me, I’m happy to be breathing
with both feet on the ground

Some people hide from the world and it’s charms, others flee from its tragedy
Some people wish for a place to call home while they kill off every living thing they see
Some people await the rapture and fate, others are simply looking for the cure
Some people lead some people follow, some people spit, some people swallow
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Me, I’m happy to be breathing

Some people search for Utopia and peace, but never seem to laugh
Some people forgot what it’s like to be young, having grown up much to fast
Some people preach salvation and hope to anyone willing to pay
Some people judge to quick, some never judge at all, some people climb, some are simply happy to fall
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Me, I’m happy to be breathing
with both feet on the ground

Some people feel the mirror holds the key, to their tomorrows and prosperity
Some people are sealed off from the world by their hearts, their leaders, or their personality
Some people are like cannibals, they devour what they need and move on
Some people are criminals trying to make ends meet, steeling from others trying to make ends meet
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Me, I’m happy to be breathing
with both feet on the ground

Some people feel its much more real, to chase rainbows on canvass painted skies
Some people think their shit don’t stink, some have the trust of a saint and tell lies
Some people’s minds react like a nuclear bomb, some people are one with the galaxy
Some people die as they lived, others live as they die, some never give up hope, others don’t even try
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Some people wear their hearts on their sleeve, others forget what it means to be free
Some people speak of friendships and love, but don’t know what it means to be a friend
Some people search for enlightenment in the stars, in tea leaves, other find it floating in a glass
Some people smile, some people cry, some people live, some people try
And they all believe their mouths to be religion, I ask you who puts their faith in that little hole

Some people are afraid to take risks, or to be anything they wish until they die
Some people love the sound of their voice, some talk more than they listen
Some people don’t suffer fools only to find the jokes on them

[...] Read more

poem by Colin Coplin
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Three Women

My love is young, so young;
Young is her cheek, and her throat,
And life is a song to be sung
With love the word for each note.

Young is her cheek and her throat;
Her eyes have the smile o' May.
And love is the word for each note
In the song of my life to-day.

Her eyes have the smile o' May;
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
And the song of my life to-day
Is love, beautiful love.

Her heart is the heart of a dove,
Ah, would it but fly to my breast
Where love, beautiful love,
Has made it a downy nest.

Ah, would she but fly to my breast,
My love who is young, so young;
I have made her a downy nest
And life is a song to be sung.

1
I.
A dull little station, a man with the eye
Of a dreamer; a bevy of girls moving by;
A swift moving train and a hot Summer sun,
The curtain goes up, and our play is begun.
The drama of passion, of sorrow, of strife,
Which always is billed for the theatre Life.
It runs on forever, from year unto year,
With scarcely a change when new actors appear.
It is old as the world is-far older in truth,
For the world is a crude little planet of youth.
And back in the eras before it was formed,
The passions of hearts through the Universe stormed.

Maurice Somerville passed the cluster of girls
Who twisted their ribbons and fluttered their curls
In vain to attract him; his mind it was plain
Was wholly intent on the incoming train.
That great one eyed monster puffed out its black breath,
Shrieked, snorted and hissed, like a thing bent on death,

[...] Read more

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Virginia's Story

Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.

She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.

When she was old enough she got married.

First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.

Agnes was my mother.

Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.

Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.

Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.

Anna was a maid and cook.

She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth

They were both good cooks

They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.

My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.

She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.

[...] Read more

poem by Talile Ali
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Canto the Second

I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.

II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.

III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.

IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.

V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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PaSSioN FLoWeR

He was a young lad
Endless dreams she had

She was a flowered rose
She made all sacrifices to make him her spouse

For days, he was the Helios
Without him, she was in pathos

The white dress she wears
No matter how living; there are no fears
Love could un-shed all her tears…

Even on removing the white dress
It seems that the life was full of gladness

In the times before the wedding
Life was as sweets as pudding

Now the time of the vow has gone
She removes the white dress
And is forced into love’s black dress
The life seems full of stress
The gentleman removed the mask of softness and gentleness…

He was showing her his flair
But it was a built castle in the air

Passion Flower she has become
She bathes on a sad realm

She wears a heart of mourning
Passion Flower is crying

'''''From Zenith to Nadir I letdown
Just prayers and pleas I own'''''

Her eyes are in perplexity
All things developed to complexity
The white dress was forsaken leaving obscurity
And finished are the days of serenity and tranquility

What a pity! ! ! ! ! ! !

Little by little, Passion Flower has faded away
My Passion Flower is wilted and is fading away

Little by little, Passion Flower has bowed to the sadness
Little by little, Passion Flower has bent to the faintness

[...] Read more

poem by Glamorous Enigma
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The Passion Fruit

[The Passion Fruit]

An epic Stanza a Dream if Might the cruel fates play tricks on the love longing mind. For Hope was the plant and Passion the fruit of the hearts implore. And love, Love is the Rain of all growth and for everyday a little rain must Fall.

The Dream of Dreams is to be loved in return by the one you dream of most. And so, her love grew for him as she saw the figure of his shadow in the corridor, and heard the deep soothing sound of his voice. And alas, She sought the longing in her eyes would at one point be returned by his. She knew at this point would be a point of no return.

Love can drive you to do incredible things; it seeks the soul, mind, and the spirit. And just as beauty, love is in the eyes of it’s beholder, for each person love comes differently, by the way they receive it, the way they give it, the way they earn it, and the way they see it. Each is its own plant.

For her it was the Passion Fruit.

She showered this fruit with love, and heartened it with hope. At last the fruit was brimming with Passion.
It was the Passion Fruit.

It was filled with Passion, but it was lacking light.
The light of restoration in which she would finally see the longing in his eyes as they were in hers.
And although she filled it with everything else there was no light, and No plant can survive without light.
Without light there is no hope and without hope there is no plant.

The passion in her eyes became a dull place in a bright world. For in her world there was no light in which to see, and no hope for it to be seen.

And so she faded away.

The day she would leave all passion behind, all hope, and all cares, she told him the story of the Passion Fruit. How it loved, laughed, and lived.

The words she said to him before her final farewell were, “When all seems Dark look for Light for there is always Light you just have to find it. Remember Hope was the plant and Passion the heart’s wish, it’s fruit. And love, Love is the Rain of all growth and for everyday a little rain must Fall.”

“But don’t forget light, for without light you cannot see the rain of love, and without the rain, a plant will cease to exist. I have Finally found my light, but alas I have already gone through a dark tunnel.” These words she uttered before she took her last breath.
He never forgot, for secretly she was his passion, his light, and his rain.

He eventually found another, but he would never love her, for there is only one love, for love is jealous of all others. So, he loved but once and the rest was just of like.

On his last breath he said, “I have found my Light, but at the end of a dark tunnel, for there she is waiting for me, my dream of dreams.”

“My Passion Fruit”

(c) 2006

poem by Kelsey Neystel
Added by Poetry Lover
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Exodus (Laswell Mix)

[Bob Marley]
Exodus: Movement of Jah people! Oh-oh-oh, yea-eah!
.......
Men and people will fight ya down (Tell me why!)
When ya see Jah light. (Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!)
Let me tell you if you're not wrong; (Then, why?)
Everything is all right.
So we gonna walk - all right! - through de roads of creation:
We the generation (Tell me why!)
(Trod through great tribulation) trod through great tribulation.
Exodus, all right! Movement of Jah people!
Oh, yeah! O-oo, yeah! All right!
Exodus: Movement of Jah people! Oh, yeah!
Yeah-yeah-yeah, well!
Uh! Open your eyes and look within:
Are you satisfied (with the life you're living)? Uh!
We know where we're going, uh!
We know where we're from.
We're leaving Babylon,
We're going to our Father land.
2, 3, 4: Exodus: movement of Jah people! Oh, yeah!
(Movement of Jah people!) Send us another brother Moses!
(Movement of Jah people!) From across the Red Sea!
(Movement of Jah people!) Send us another brother Moses!
(Movement of Jah people!) From across the Red Sea!
Movement of Jah people!
---
/Instrumental break/
---
Exodus, all right! Oo-oo-ooh! Oo-ooh!
Movement of Jah people! Oh, yeah!
Exodus!
Exodus! All right!
Exodus! Now, now, now, now!
Exodus!
Exodus! Oh, yea-ea-ea-ea-ea-ea-eah!
Exodus!
Exodus! All right!
Exodus! Uh-uh-uh-uh!
Move! Move! Move! Move! Move! Move!
Open your eyes and look within:
Are you satisfied with the life you're living?
We know where we're going;
We know where we're from.
We're leaving Babylon, y'all!
We're going to our Father's land.
Exodus, all right! Movement of Jah people!
Exodus: movement of Jah people!
Movement of Jah people!
Movement of Jah people!

[...] Read more

song performed by Bob Marley
Added by Lucian Velea
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People At The Bustop

People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Don't have time to talk a lot.
('people at the bustop? ')
And when it rains or snow on them drops,
People at the bustop,
Don't appear to anger with moods to cop.

People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
May sing a tune or fingerpop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Listening to music through earplugs blocked,
And unheard to hear by those who are near.

People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Don't have time to talk a lot.
('people at the bustop? ')
And when it rains or snow on them drops,
People at the bustop,
Don't appear to anger with moods to cop.

People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
With ipods bop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Listening to their rap or rockin' hip hop.

Oh those people at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
With ipods bop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Listening to their rap or rockin' hip hop.

People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Don't have time to talk a lot.
('people at the bustop? ')
And when it rains or snow on them drops,
People at the bustop,
Don't appear to anger with moods to cop.

People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
People at the bustop.
('people at the bustop? ')
Peeping on the people who are nodding to a beat.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Where Is My Passion

Where is my passion
Far too much pain

Where is my passion
Must I love in vain?

Where is my passion
I need must know

Where is my passion
I want so much to grow

Where is my passion
Lost in your lips

Where is my passion
I feel for your kiss

Where is my passion
Lost in your eyes

Where is my passion
Release me to fly

Where is my passion
There in your hands

Where is my passion
Touch me…expand

Where is my passion
Please…be a man

poem by Fleurette Elaine Harris
Added by Poetry Lover
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