Building
Once part of a building you are sentenced,
Passion is your existence, your party of events.
It has impacted you, warned you, and wanted you,
It attracts your body, no one told you the truth.
Once there was a child on the hill of entities,
That this building housed, yearning for a future;
Passion entered the child’s imagination,
A philosophy was born of the days we made.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Building My Body
I'm building my body
I'm happy when I'm building my body
I'm tired of fighting, let's make friends
I'm tired of burning both ends
That's why I'm building my body
It hurts me but I'm building my body
And I know what the pain is worth
I know I feel the pain of birth
I'm pushin' up
And gettin' down with my body
There's no-one else around with my body
One look says I'm a stone disgrace
Don't kick no sand in my face
Because I'm building my body strong
I'm watching what I eat
And I'm sorting out right from wrong
Hey, not a lot of meat
And I know that it won't be long
Before I gotta quit smoking
Because I'm building my body
I'm peaceful when I'm building my body
I'm sweating out mistakes I've made
I'm getting back the dues I've paid
I'm doing more
And getting sore with my body
But I'm gaining a rapport with my body
And this seems like the perfect time
They say I'm in my prime
That's why I'm building my body strong
I'm thinking at the table
And I'm sorting out right from wrong
I'm reading every label
And I know that it won't be long
Before I gotta quit smoking
'Cause I'm building my body
There's someone else inside of my body
He's waiting to be born again
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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 by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Now is Forever
The past is all that’s gone,
the future is yet to come.
this moment is all our own.
We should live this way,
Just building up our day,
now and forever.
The past is all that’s gone,
the future is yet to come.
this moment is all our own.
We should live this way,
Just building up our day,
now and forever.
We should think about,
What we got right now,
cause the good things are made up of time.
Smile to your problems,
Leave the past behind.
never forget this.
find the truth in your soul,
keeping you alive.
going on from minute to minute.
don’t shade the future,
with all that’s behind.
live for today.
the past is all that’s gone,
the future is yet to come.
this moment is all our own.
we should live this way,
just building up our day,
now and forever.
the past is all that’s gone,
the future is yet to come.
this moment is all our own.
we should live this way,
just building up our day,
now and forever.
don’t shade your future,
with what you don’t have.
keep your mind on that’s here today.
now and forever,
build the future now.
keep this mind.
though you will take your time,
to get what you need,
but you’ll do it step after step.
yet to come is all that’s gone,
learn to lice this moment.
live for today.
poem by Rachell Dear
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Monday's Child is Ill
Monday's child is ill, I'm told.
Tuesday's child has caught a cold.
Wednesday's child is down with the flu.
Thursday's child is feeling blue.
Friday's child can't eat any food.
Saturday's child is in a foul mood.
And the child that's born on the seventh day
Is the only child that feels okay.
poem by Bruce Larkin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Child Is Sweet Any Day Of The Week
A child that's born on a Monday
holds beauty in sight and mind.
A child that's born on a Tuesday
is graceful, sweet and kind.
A child that's born on a Wednesday
is a treasure, so they say.
A child that 's born on a Thursday
sees a quest with each new day.
A child that's born on a Friday
is loving and freely gives.
A child that's born on a Saturday
shows great work through how they live.
A child that's born on a Sunday
is happy, carefree and gay.
I guess you could say that a child is
special, no matter what the day.
poem by Christine K. Trease
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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 by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Guardian
Louder to him than the deafening cries,
Are the gunshots that pierce each man as he dies.
He looks about and sees the demise,
Of his once good friends and his trusted allies.
He was scared of death and fell to the ground,
Trying his best to make an audible sound.
He closed his eyes and held in his tears,
The fight soon ended confirming his fears.
He waited awhile and then got up,
Inside of a building, a bomb then blew up.
He let loose his tears, and in his mind he said,
I was a coward, I wish I were dead!
Watching the building, he noticed a child,
Helpless and trapped; that's when he smiled.
A chance for redemption, now was his time,
He ran into that building and started to climb.
Collapsing around him, the ceiling now trembled,
He jumped for the child as the floor disassembled.
Quickly he grabbed that child and ran,
the fastest he could, toward where he came in.
Just as it fell, he made it outside,
Collapsed to the ground, with the kid at his side.
The coward he was at the start of the day,
is dead now; the soldier is here to stay.
poem by Brandon McConnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eye's Of A Child
Through the eyes of a child
the world is grand
playing at the beach building castles of sand
Through the eyes of a child
the world is a wonder
on a stormy night hidden under the blankets scared of the thunder
Through the eyes of a child
the world is fascinating from the stars in the sky to natures sounds resonating
Through the eyes of a child
life has no time frame an endless mystery in a puzzle game
Through the eyes of the adult it all fades away
we live life so fast another hectic day
taking for granted our eyes of a child
now close them tight and as you open them let you imagination run wild.
poem by Robin McGuigan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
She had loved
She had loved,
Loved with the passion of a thousand loves
All of her hurt and pain went into this love
A love that no one had ever known
The ache and hurt from all the others went into the act of loving
The abuse of all the others went into her passion
The pain of rejection from family and friends went into the love making
She could never feel the hurt again so she put it into the passion and heat they two had when they where together
And when she was alone she would cry for the pain
Pain for the fear that she might never love
Cry for all the abuse that was put onto her body
Some in part to find love
Some in part to feel something instead of being loved
She used her body as a vessel to get what she wanted
And never showed love when doing it
She gave herself to forget herself and all the pain and fear and anguish
She gave and gave and showed no emotion in doing so
She knew that no one would really know her
Or really loved her
They were all just lovers without the love and all of the passion
She used what she knew
And passion is what she knew best
She had passion in the way she walked and talked and all the things that she did
She never showed her true colors
Until she found that love
And poured it all into the love making that she gave and cried for a different reason
She now cried for the loved that she had found and wanted
She gave all of her and more then needed to give to one person
That love that she had never had and wanted so desperately she gave to this person and that person never really understood her
She thought that this would never end and never wanted it to
But when the love in the love making faded it was just empty
And from then on all of her became empty
She did not know how to show true love and slowly lost her passion
All of her passion for all of the things that made her lovable
So now she was never to find that love again
Now she was passionless and empty
Empty was she would remain to be
Hallow once again just a vessel for others to abuse
and confuse for what they thought was love
Love that she would and could never feel again
poem by Ruthy Fernandez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Yes I Am
In these days and these hours of fury
When the darkness and answers are thin
Lovers come and check out in a hurry
Shallow and hollow again
Come lay your body beside me
To dream to sleep with the lamb
To the question your eyes seem to send
Am I your passion your promise your end
I say I am
Yes I am
Your passion your promise your end
Yes I am
Barring divine intervention
There is nothing between you and I
And if I carelessly forgot to mention
Your body your power can sanctify
Come feed your hunger your thirst
Lay it down the beast will die
You can question my heart once again
Am I your passion your promise your end
I say I am
Yes I am
Your passion your promise your end
Yes I am
I will stand firm in the tempest
I will ride destinys' trail
To believe when the truth comes up empty
To hold and respect without fail
Come and be one in the motion
A desire they cannot comprehend
Never to question again
For I am your passion your promise your end
Oh yes I am
song performed by by Melissa Etheridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Human’s health.
Unless you make yourself of doing things
You have to do when it ought to be done
Irrespective of your liking for it,
To alleviate others’ sufferings
You haven’t learnt anything in schools.
This is the first lesson the child must be taught..
This is the last one the adult must have learnt.
Knowledge and skills developed without this
Will not save the human race from decay.
Building ships must include building life-boats.
building planes must include making parachoots.
05.01.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Don't Want to Hear Another Word
I don’t want to hear another word!
Don’t even express to me another thought.
I don’t need something else to believe.
I am filled to the brim with philosophies.
I prefer to remain ignorant.
I am finally seeing that I can choose to say no,
To more information about the Infinite.
You have defined Him for me since I was a child.
And I let you.
I thought I had to.
But you cannot possibly know what He is to me.
No lines can be drawn.
He is not in any vocabulary.
Passion is something you feel.
It is something you are.
It is not in Webster’s dictionary,
Somewhere between “operate” and “star”.
God is my passion.
He is passion for me.
I am passion for Him.
He is the ocean rising up like a wave around me.
Suddenly I am lifted up off of my feet,
As His passion breaks over my head.
I am drowning in the experience of passion.
You cannot tell me how this is supposed to feel.
As this wave assaults my senses and,
Water pours into all my orifices.
You have the nerve to try and tell me what the rules are?
What the truth is?
How reality really is?
You there, standing on the shore,
Are going to tell me how I am to drown?
If you were in this ocean with me,
You and I would be one.
Not because we believe the same things,
Or are even aware of each other.
When orgasm reaches its crescendo,
We are so utterly alone,
Yet more one with
God than we have ever known.
We would be one in that we both,
Peaked with God and felt His heartbeat close to ours.
Passion is not a belief, a conviction, a truth.
Passion is an experience of Divine Love,
That changes you from the inside out.
You cannot tell someone about it.
You can only hope to survive it.
Or maybe not.
poem by Connie Crane
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dont Say No
(a. bell / v. clarke)
Collecting conversation from the silence of the room.
Misguided information, telling lies will never do.
No better known occasion for improving the score.
Paid my contribution, wont play this game no more.
Im done with hesitation, got no stationary blues.
Gonna use my imagination like the way I used to do.
Headlong into passion, a sensational move.
Made the right connection, Im falling for the groove.
Im swinging high and Im swinging low,
And Im getting down and Im to and fro.
And thats the way the party goes.
Im making no mistaking, its a true live picture show.
So forget the final curtain and forget the bit of blow.
Got a lot of combination, its a fusion of love.
Mention intervention been bitten by the blow.
Im swinging high and Im swinging low,
And Im getting down and Im to and fro.
And thats the way the party goes.
Im done with hesitation, got no stationary blues.
Gonna use my imagination like the way I used to do.
Headlong into passion, a sensational move.
Made the right connection, Im falling for the groove.
Im swinging high and Im swinging low,
And Im getting down and Im to and fro.
Aint that the way the party goes?
Im swinging high and Im swinging low,
And Im getting down and Im to and fro.
And thats the way the party goes.
And thats the way the party goes.
And thats the way the party goes.
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I've never looked at a suburban building as being a minor building and an urban building as being a major building.
quote by Helmut Jahn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Vote! | Copy!
Lotus-flowers
Lotus-flowers
Naked I am before The Author of Life
-the child of nature’s birth and death
Imperfect I am before The Great Mind
-the child of passion’s limited to earth
Rebellious I am before The Truth
-the child of desire clothe with pride
Vicious I am before The Law
-the child of deceit and endless lies
Avaricious I am before The Master of All
-the child of corrupt and distorted image of life
Nauseous I am before The Ancient One
-the child of folly, ignorant antagonist
And I am the pilgrim before the God of the Universe
-the ‘you’ and the ‘I’ across time and space
Note:
Inspired by the teaching on “Nirvana”
poem by Jordan Legaspi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Infatuation
There is infatuation in cat's mew
It is there in 'cock crowing its own dung hill'
It could be in the whole assembly of people
There There is infatuation in cat's mew
It is there in 'cock crowing its own dung hill'
It could be in the whole assembly of people
There is no place in fact for it to remain stand and still
The commotion of events and the burst of imagination
Did not confine itself into 'archer' of its fashion
If we take its linchpin from the womb of mother
You will not find its glory a bit farther
Its there from nascent of progenitors and race thereafter
Bowing in liturgy and forming into art and passion
That's what we call homo-sapien's passion
Which can go 'acclivity' into newness of fashion
poem by Hafiz Qasim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Was a Child
I was a child - only 13
I was looking to be loved
What I found was the devil
I wasn’t to know love shouldn’t
Hurt with so much intense pain
I wasn’t to know the difference
Between passion and possession
He taught me every lesson I needed
He gave me validation of my worth
Unworthy he assured me with certainty
He told me I am now his to keep
He stole years of what was my life
His idea of play included pain
I felt his games over and over
Until I learned to no longer feel
He captured my soul and tormented it
Until he destroyed what remained
Left with no strength to walk away
Fear of death was his ultimate weapon
He took the power of my mind
He gave me a choice to escape
For this he would take something
Someone I loved - the life of my brother
My decision quite simply I made – I stayed.
What became of the years to follow?
I was a child – I was broken, beaten, kicked,
I was a child – I was tormented, raped, violated
I was a child – I was frightened, and wished to die
I was a child – I wanted to be that child again.
(April 22nd 2007)
poem by Charmaine Simpson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!