Travel Lite...
when he leaves
he brings nothing with him
except the scent of
the passion
fruit
when he comes back
he brings nothings with him
except the faded scent of the passion
fruit.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Rachel(this girl)
Rachel(this girl)
please dont leave me
your like a potato
i need to put you in the fridge
you atre too hot you burn my heart
please dont leave me
you like a passion fruit
because you have passion
you must be god
because you send me to heaven(because of your passion like a passion fruit)
when we touch
i can feel PASSION
like when i touch a passion fruit
electricity sparks between us
like when you get an electric shock(but one that doesnt hurt)
poem by RebeCCA Black
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Scent
Your scent encases me
My second skin
It permeates everything
All at once satiating
While leaving me hungering for more
Leaving me open
Right down to my very core
Your scent encases me
Driving out the demons of memory
For new paths to be formed
Along their wake
Cementing new paintings in place
Ignoring the gossamer wings of time
So easily torn
Your scent encases me
My every breath waiting
To be set free
Time obliging, abiding
My whim
To be within your breath
Within your arms
Surrounded by the trail of your secret, your soul
Your scent encases me
Holding fast their silken bonds
And, oh rapture
To be held by such luxurious tethers
Held fast to your lust, your need
Only matched by the flames within my breast
The fires that only moments ago were mere embers
Slowly, your breath on my skin, your scent in my hair, come to life
Your scent encases me
I am left in darkness
No light does penetrate
My only salvation, your whispered words
I follow those sounds, those wisps of pure lust
My every breath taking in sweet passion
Your passion, my passion, our passion, as one we are once more.
poem by Joy Vanderhelm
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Months
January brings the snow,
makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes loud and shrill,
stirs the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daises at our feet.
May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy damns.
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children's hand with posies.
Hot july brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gillyflowers.
August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm september brings the fruit,
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Fresh October brings the pheasents,
Then to gather nuts is pleasent.
Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves are whirling fast.
Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.
poem by Sara Coleridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Air
Like fresh blossoming flowers on a spring day.
Her scent is in the air.
Like the smell of rain right before it pours down.
Her scent is in the air.
Like the aroma of a hot apple pie cooling on the window seal.
Her scent is in air.
I try to cover my nose with my shirt
but her scent seeps right through it.
It is in the air.
I try fanning it away
but the more I fan the stronger her scent lofts in the air.
I decide not to fight it anymore and I inhale her scent.
It first suffocates me but then it sustains me.
To me her scent is love and it is
In the air.
Strange Fruit
Lewis allen, sonny white
Seven trees
Bearin strange fruit
Blood on the leaves
And blood at the roots
Black bodies
Swinging in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hangin
From the poplar trees
Pastoral scene
Of the gallant south
Them big bulging eyes
And the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolia
Clean and fresh
Then the sudden smell
Of burnin flesh
Here is a fruit
For the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather
For the wind to suck
For the sun to rot
For the leaves to drop
Here is
Strange and bitter crop
As singed by billie holiday
Southern trees bear strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.
Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.
Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter cry.
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted 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 by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strange Fruit
Southern trees bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees
Pastoral scene of the gallant south
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolia sweet and fresh
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.
Here is a fruit for the crow to pluck
For the rain to wither, for the wind to suck
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strange Fruit
(l. allan)
Southern trees bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves and blood at the roots
Black bodies swingin in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hangin from the poplar trees
Pastoral scene of the gallant south
The bulging eyes and twisted mouth
Scent of magnolias sweet and fresh
And the sudden smell of burning flesh
Here is the fruit
For the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather
For the wind to suck
For the sun to rot
For the tree to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strange Fruit
Southern trees bear a strange fruit
Blood on the leaves, blood at the root
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar tree.
Pastoral scene of the gallant South
The bulging eyes, and the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolia, cool and fresh
And the smell of the burning flesh.
Here is the fruit for the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck
For the sun to rot, for a tree to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
So strange
So strange
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Strange Fruit
Lewis allen
Southern trees bear strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.
Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.
Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If you have a great passion it seems that the logical thing is to see the fruit of it, and the fruit are children.
quote by Roman Polanski
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Passion Fruit Blues
The edible fruit of the passionflower is called
Passion fruit
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shift of sex
Flowers are, in general, endowed with
Scent and nectar to woo bees and flies
For the ultimate goal of impregnation.
Then why do the Jasmine and the Rose,
Known for scent and nectar, fail,
In their courtship, to get impregnated?
Do they copy men and women,
Who want only sex and not its fruit?
18.11.2000
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Doing Fine
the passion of doing a thing
that you love
it loves you too
feeds that passion with fuel
a conflagration
a fusion of fire and desire
you ask me why i am doing it
because i love you
not because you love me
because i love you
things love you in return
the barks of trees that you touch
give the best leaves
the most colorful flowers
the scent
pervading the air of the night
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Raat ki Raani (Night Queen)
Night-queen sparkled
Amidst fresh green leaves
Perfume in bunches!
Leaves hide
Behind bunches of flowers
Perfumed night!
Tiny petals
Five in numbers in
Perfect symmetry
and by morning
Some offered to earth
In gratitude for
Another day
The night queen
Sprayed an exotic perfume
Distinct from night's scent
The moon heady
With the night's scent
Slept satiated
But the sun glowed
And glowered helpless
In passion, unbound
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Strange Fruit
(l.allen)
Originally performed by billie holiday. jeff performed it live on air at kcrws man in the moon, on january 1994.
Southern trees bear strange fruit
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.
Pastoral scene of the gallant south
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.
Here is fruit for the crows to pluck
For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Passion Fruits
there were too many passion
fruits in the garden
of my Papa
it is a vine that climbs
atop trees
covering them
they all fall this summer
these ripe passion fruits that most of our neighbors
know nothing about
how they taste what is their use
&
as a consequence of that ignorance
no one takes a passion fruit
for a cold refreshing juice this summer
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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