My three Ps: passion, patience, perseverance. You have to do this if you've got to be a filmmaker.
quote by Robert Wise
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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
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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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Sonnet: A Bit of Patience
A bit of patience works out miracles;
A bit of patience puts off arguments;
A bit of patience problems well tackles;
A bit of patience preserves monuments.
A bit of patience can avoid hatred;
A bit of patience cools one’s anger off;
A bit of patience marks well good kindred;
A bit of patience makes many to laugh.
A bit of patience keeps good friends at peace;
A bit of patience can avoid big wars;
A bit of patience can jealousy cease;
A bit of patience can avoid big scars.
A bit of patience gives good advantage;
A bit of patience is good heritage.
poem by John Celes
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Patience Rules
I am told that idea rules the world
The real ruler is patience
Patience owns the plannet
The child of patience is idea
Without patience idea is aborted
Patience rules the world
Patience is gradual and steady
Yet it always leads to victory
Although the snail has neither hand nor leg
Patiently its destinations are reached
Nothing can be attained without patience
It is with patience
That snake climbs coconut trees
An ant invested firewood
Is fetched vide patience
Patience is profitable
Whatever you desire in life
Let patience be your watchword
Only the patient can milk lionness
Kingship is attained through patience
Royal crown is perfectly fitted by it
Hurray! patience is the champion
Patience is it!
poem by Babatunde Aremu
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Your Patience Is Needed To Feed It
Don't do it to stop...
No!
Don't do it to drop...
No!
Just you know that...
Every single prayer,
That is made...
Stays right there.
A patience is needed.
Your patience is needed to feed it.
Every single prayer,
That is made...
Stays right there.
A patience is needed.
Don't leave it to disbelieve.
You must keep your faith to receive,
And appreciate what comes to be.
Oh don't exchange woes,
To give up and let go.
Don't you know that...
Every single prayer,
That is made...
Stays right there.
A patience is needed.
Your patience is needed to feed it.
A patience is needed to greet it.
Every single prayer,
That is made...
Stays right there.
A patience is needed.
Don't leave it to disbelieve.
Be right there to meet it and greet.
Don't do it to stop...
No!
Don't do it to drop...
No!
Don't do it to stop...
No!
Don't do it to drop...
No!
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Squire Hawkins's Story
I hain't no hand at tellin' tales,
Er spinnin' yarns, as the sailors say;
Someway o' 'nother, language fails
To slide fer me in the oily way
That LAWYERS has; and I wisht it would,
Fer I've got somepin' that I call good;
But bein' only a country squire,
I've learned to listen and admire,
Ruther preferrin' to be addressed
Than talk myse'f--but I'll do my best:--
Old Jeff Thompson--well, I'll say,
Was the clos'test man I ever saw!--
Rich as cream, but the porest pay,
And the meanest man to work fer--La!
I've knowed that man to work one 'hand'--
Fer little er nothin', you understand--
From four o'clock in the morning light
Tel eight and nine o'clock at night,
And then find fault with his appetite!
He'd drive all over the neighberhood
To miss the place where a toll-gate stood,
And slip in town, by some old road
That no two men in the county knowed,
With a jag o' wood, and a sack o' wheat,
That wouldn't burn and you couldn't eat!
And the trades he'd make, 'll I jest de-clare,
Was enough to make a preacher swear!
And then he'd hitch, and hang about
Tel the lights in the toll-gate was blowed out,
And then the turnpike he'd turn in
And sneak his way back home ag'in!
Some folks hint, and I make no doubt,
That that's what wore his old wife out--
Toilin' away from day to day
And year to year, through heat and cold,
Uncomplainin'--the same old way
The martyrs died in the days of old;
And a-clingin', too, as the martyrs done,
To one fixed faith, and her ONLY one,--
Little Patience, the sweetest child
That ever wept unrickonciled,
Er felt the pain and the ache and sting
That only a mother's death can bring.
Patience Thompson!--I think that name
Must 'a' come from a power above,
Fer it seemed to fit her jest the same
As a GAITER would, er a fine kid glove!
[...] Read more
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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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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Canto the First
I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.
II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.
III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.
IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.
V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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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
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On Being Patient
Patient persons seldom lose;
Winning always seems their forte;
Time may not be on their side;
But in life, there’s no defeat!
Patience is a virtuous trait –
Key to success in all fields;
Though the odds are very great,
God is always on their side!
Patience makes a brave heart calm;
Tussles end in glorious ways;
Struggles seem simply trivial;
Battles end victoriously!
Patient men can earn a lot;
Patience gives an edge to all;
Patience turns the tide of things;
Patience brings expected ends.
Patience fountain rises high,
Baffling people’s minds and hearts;
Patience comes by sustained toil,
Bringing cheers to all who seek!
A patient soul unnerves foes;
None can take him for granted;
Life is rosy till the end;
Charm of patience grows always!
poem by John Celes
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Patience Given
Patience given,
To those dealing with their insecurities...
Have several exceptions!
Patience given to a child,
Learning when and how to use a toilet.
Patience given to a child,
Going to school for the first time.
Patience given to a child,
Learning how to share.
Patience given to a child,
When left with a babysitter.
Patience given to a child,
When learning the difference...
Between telling a lie and being honest.
Patience given to a child,
When being taught to be responsible.
Patience given,
To those dealing with their insecurities...
Have several exceptions!
Extenuating exceptions beyond the call of reason,
Requires one to ignore with an ability...
That preserves a peace of mind one wishes,
To keep and maintain undisturbed...
By those who are,
Disturbed by their expectations to be exceptions...
To the rule.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Metamorphoses: Book The Ninth
Theseus requests the God to tell his woes,
Whence his maim'd brow, and whence his groans arose
Whence thus the Calydonian stream reply'd,
With twining reeds his careless tresses ty'd:
Ungrateful is the tale; for who can bear,
When conquer'd, to rehearse the shameful war?
Yet I'll the melancholy story trace;
So great a conqu'ror softens the disgrace:
Nor was it still so mean the prize to yield,
As great, and glorious to dispute the field.
The Story of Perhaps you've heard of Deianira's name,
Achelous and For all the country spoke her beauty's fame.
Hercules Long was the nymph by num'rous suitors woo'd,
Each with address his envy'd hopes pursu'd:
I joyn'd the loving band; to gain the fair,
Reveal'd my passion to her father's ear.
Their vain pretensions all the rest resign,
Alcides only strove to equal mine;
He boasts his birth from Jove, recounts his spoils,
His step-dame's hate subdu'd, and finish'd toils.
Can mortals then (said I), with Gods compare?
Behold a God; mine is the watry care:
Through your wide realms I take my mazy way,
Branch into streams, and o'er the region stray:
No foreign guest your daughter's charms adores,
But one who rises in your native shores.
Let not his punishment your pity move;
Is Juno's hate an argument for love?
Though you your life from fair Alcmena drew,
Jove's a feign'd father, or by fraud a true.
Chuse then; confess thy mother's honour lost,
Or thy descent from Jove no longer boast.
While thus I spoke, he look'd with stern disdain,
Nor could the sallies of his wrath restrain,
Which thus break forth. This arm decides our right;
Vanquish in words, be mine the prize in fight.
Bold he rush'd on. My honour to maintain,
I fling my verdant garments on the plain,
My arms stretch forth, my pliant limbs prepare,
And with bent hands expect the furious war.
O'er my sleek skin now gather'd dust he throws,
And yellow sand his mighty muscles strows.
Oft he my neck, and nimble legs assails,
He seems to grasp me, but as often fails.
Each part he now invades with eager hand;
Safe in my bulk, immoveable I stand.
So when loud storms break high, and foam and roar
Against some mole that stretches from the shore;
The firm foundation lasting tempests braves,
Defies the warring winds, and driving waves.
[...] Read more
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
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Passion Of Tomorrow
PASSION OF TOMORROW
The passion of tomorrow
The lost passion for a stranger
The new passion of all days
The passion of tomorrow
Won’t be the only sorrow
Kissing you makes me feel dizzy
Wondering why are you still busy
Let go of yourself surrender
Open up to the sweet offender
The passion of today
Won’t let it go away
Even though forbidden
Keep the entangled hidden
Wish for your embrace
I feel like being in a haze
The passion of yesterday
Belongs to other days
Walks on the shore are gone
Watching the sun go down
Flows of tears were shed
until my heart was over fed
The passion of tomorrow
I just want it to grow and grow
I get troubled by love night mares
Torn between the no or do I dare
For you I feel this nagging hunger
Striking me like hundreds of thunders
The passion of tomorrow
The lost passion for a stranger
The new passion of all days
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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