When love grows diseased, the best thing we can do is to put it to a violent death; I cannot endure the torture of a lingering and consumptive passion.
quote by George Etherege
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where the passion flower grows
Lay down on your pillow
and turn the lights down low
let me take you to the garden
where the passion flower grows
Close your eyes and enter dreams
as love's emotion sets the scene
and flitters through the garden
where the passion flower grows
Touch the tender petals
of the flower as she grows
a tentative endeavour
as your feelings overflow
Let me draw you to the place
where ecstasy can be embraced
the beauty of the garden
where the passion flower grows
Feel your mind exploding
in the heavy scented air
experience the shiver
as your captured unaware
A little touch of heaven
where imagination flows
the valley in the garden
where the passion flower grows.
poem by Charles M. Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet- When a Child
The saddest thing in life I know is when,
I can’t prevent the death of a young child;
All my years of learning seem a waste, then;
My heart with anger fills; my mind grows wild.
I shudder in myself and almost cry;
Was there a freak chance of saving life, still?
I ask myself, my God, the question 'Why;
Death cruel stole the child's soul while still ill!
’Tis alright when an old man diseased dies;
The bud had flowered; fruit was yet unripe;
The child had not a speck or stain of vice;
Who can the mother's lament ever wipe?
Alas! None can query the act of God;
He is the Wisest One; We are but clod!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet- When a Child Dies!
The saddest thing in life I know is when,
I can’t prevent the death of a young child;
My years of learning all seem awaste, then;
My heart with anger fills; my mind grows wild.
I shudder within myself, almost cry;
Was there a freak chance of saving life still?
I ask myself, my God, the question- 'Why
Death cruel stole the child's soul while still ill? ’
’Tis alright when an old man, diseased dies;
The bud had flowered; fruit was yet unripe;
The child had not a speck or stain of vice;
Who can the mother's lament ever wipe?
Alas! None can query the acts of God;
He is the Wisest One; we are but clod!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Is Death
death is love,
death is peace,
death is all the non-violent things around you,
death will hunt,
death will kill,
death is a fallin' angel,
death is what you will receive,
death is all around you,
death is love,
death is peace,
death is the killing angel of peace,
death will take every last soul,
death will vanish the day we leave,
you can run but you can from death,
he will find you no matter where you go,
death hunt by fear,
death is love,
death is peace,
death is all round.
poem by Jaqualen Roberts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thoughts Of True Love?
Love is forever, It grows day to day, Its never letting go, No matter what others might say.
Love is unwavering, its from beginning with no end, Its not just for today, and then gone with the wind.
Its a life long commitment, That not many can see through, For in this day and age, It one lil argument and I'm done with you.
Love is precious, love is pure, Love is everlasting, for true love will endure.
Love is the one thing, You find u can't live without, Love is trusting and believing, With never any doubt! !
poem by Richard Goolsby
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Sadistic Sinner
Alone in my house
Full of hate and fear
Your death is near
My passion for killing will take you to death
I slay a victim I torture his wife
They die by my knife
I'm coming for you
So take your last breath
The more I kill, the more the need grows
I dislodge the eyes and hack off the nose
CHORUS
I'm a sadistic sinner
I will slash you at will
It is the devil inside me
Who makes me wanna kill
Evil
And you will die by my hand
Killer
And I'll make you understand
Possessed
Just like the knife in my hand
Killer
He taunts my soul and he twists my mind
The blood of my victims is all they can find
I dismember the body as its blood is being sprayed
I gaze in splendor at the mess I have made
Cold is the blade
I carry in rage
They live in fear
My passion for killing will take you to death
My soul is a demon that no one can save
I spread my disease
I'm coming for you
So take your last breath
The more I kill, the more the need grows
I dislodge the eyes and hack off the nose
CHORUS
I'm a sadistic sinner
I will slash you at will
It is the devil inside me
Who makes me wanna kill
I'm
Sadistic
Sinner
I'll kill you slow, I'll kill you fast
I'm coming for you, I'll kick your ass
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passion....
one thing with passion is that it is always burning
one wonders
where is the source of this hearth?
why are the flames so red and high that at times the become like
tongues of fire
licking the skies?
one thing with passion is that it is hardheaded and despite
the signs of weakness due to massive heating
exhaustion that sets in like a disease
it continues just the same as though it does not know what death is all about
the passion that makes us alive but which kills us though
a drug that forgets time's race against itself
this passion that does not know who are friends and who are enemies
leveling people like a straight line of the horizon
where the sun finally sets
and dies with the
darkness of the night
this is the last thing about passion
it finally meets eternity and somehow you just do not know it
when it comes and takes you away to its permanent home
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Death comes to all But great achievements raise a monument Which shall endure until the sun grows old.
quote by George Fabricius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the habitually even-tempered suddenly fly into a passion, that explosion is apt to be more impressive than the outburst of the most violent amongst us.
Margery Allingham in Death of a Ghost (1934)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death comes to all, but great achievements build a monument which shall endure until the sun grows cold.
quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There will one day spring from the brain of science a machine or force so fearful in its potentialities, so absolutely terrifying, that even man, the fighter, who will dare torture and death in order to inflict torture and death, will be appalled, and so abandon war forever.
quote by Thomas Edison
Submitted 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
If push comes to shove
Label me old fashioned
For these are things I caption
In life with all my passion
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Violent Side
Here comes the night
Here comes the anger
Hidden so deep inside
No one can see
Behind these eyes
There walks a stranger
Wandering through the dark
Following me.
Control the violent side
Control the violent side
Control the violent side
Control the violent side.
Electric light
Shining on your block
Sayin to everyone
The power is on
While your alarm
Set up for safety
Keeps out invaders who come
But still cant control.
Control the violent side
Control the violent side
Control the violent side
Control the violent side.
Got to fight to control the violent side
Every day and night
Ive got to fight to control it.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jealousy
Never at heart's ease
Should one be greater
Than her
This green eyed other self-
Twin sister of love.
Born from lack of self confidence
Grows into the proud child
Of envy that perverts the mind
feels pleasure in the reverse,
Cruel as the grave,
Can endure its own despair
But not neighbour's hope.
To ignore the force of jealousy
Is to deny the gravity
Of this strange passion.
poem by Yoonoos Peerbocus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Is Sure and Certain
What is sure and certain
Is death
Who is dead and who is living
Who is learned who is not
Not easy to tell.
We are here to endure
Everything that are
Transitory fleeting temporary
We are here to endure
cold and heat and rise and fall.
We should know pain and pleasure
We are here to feel and endure
And we know nothing is certain
Nothing is sure.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted 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
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11: 37 A.m.
autumn
from the Four Seasons
the violins are
crying like mourning women
all for the honor of the death
of a revolutionary
who loved them all equally
and gave them
all the children that they all
deserve
after the funeral the women
talk
and they all agree that all
in the name of love
is forgiven
that betrayal and deceit
only exist in war
that it is love
that can only thrive
in their lust
and passion that what they remember most of all is only
the kiss
lingering still in their tongues and throats and
parting teeth
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love and sympathy, and when wrenched by misery to vice and hatred, it did not endure the violence of the change without torture such as you cannot even imagine.
quote by Mary Shelley
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Hidden Passion
Hidden Passion,
stored locked away the thought of passion forgotten,
yet, lingering in distance air passages.
How does one recapture these floating
Ever so soft clouds of passion
to be able to put back these whispering breezes of desire?
If only it could be stored in a bottle
to be later mixed with an enticing fragrance
that is activated by gentle slow embraces of love-making
and soft touching one to the other
this scent that refills the air
getting stronger with each moment
as the passion in the both of you heats up!
Written by Rick Defalco
Copyright ©2003 Pen Name : Dream walker.
-------
poem by Dream Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love&lust
love is something devine
it falls from the heaven to earth
it expects nothing for it but
it renders everything 2 others including itself
love nvr ends in lust but
it grows as affection nd respect
lust expects 2 exploit others
2 satisfy its needs
matured love becomes grace
lust may not be so
lust spoils the character nd life
when it develops as aggressive
love nvr feeds the violent but
lust grows in violence nd feeds violence
2 the people of the world
love nd lust must work 2gether in some way
poem by Koneko 4 Life
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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