Time Slips Away for Love
There is an awakening
That occurs in a life,
A perception of truth:
The glory of being
Or the sadness of existing,
The passion expressed
Or the passion suppressed.
Beautiful poet Petrarch
Wrote love poems for Laura
Long after her death
While some men will sleep
In the same bed with a woman
For thirty years for whom
They didn’t love to discover
Their life is nearly over.
Meet me along the river at dusk
And we’ll await the arrival
Of new stars.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Related quotes
I Wrote My Last Romantic Love Poem A Long Time Ago
I wrote my last romantic love poem a long time ago-
Now I write quieter poems
Poems of the pleasure of the old-
A walk in the morning
A sudden turn of sunlight on a cold cold day
A small kindness I may do
Or someone may do for me
Poems of love for my family
And of sadness at the sickness of my friends
Quiet poems
That do not know the wildness of passion
The bitterness of love disappointed
The up and down motions
Of when she does and when she doesn’t
And all her yeses and nos-
I write quiet poems
And I live happily in them
And I sometimes think with sadness
Of the great passion there was once-
But I am old now
And happy and quiet in small things
Grandchildren, among the best of them.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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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
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Without passion
I think and thought
i hoped and wished
i cried and mourned
i yelled and laughed
i screamed in excitement
then i realised it was passion.
Passion is strong
it is intense
it is a great feelin of emotion
love, hate, desire, enthusiasm, fondness, zeal, affection and ardor.
A man without passion is like a man without life.
Yes, i pride in myself, i have life because
i have passion,
i know love
i show affection
i know what it is to be fond of
i can give warmth
i am full of ardor.
Just when i was begining to be exalted by my feelings you came into my life,
i found you in my soul
then i knew what i claimed was passion, was nothing compared to what you gave me.
I came to realise that passion wasn't anything else but a woman.And not just any woman, it was you.
Then i remembered 'a man without passion is a man without life.Without you i'm incomplete, without passion i have no life
Now i can boast of passion of love of life.
Because i have you.
Unrequited Love
I have immense affection for poets,
Those desperate lovers who often lose
All vestiges of sanity in amorous pursuits.
Propertius lived and wrote in Rome
A few decades before the birth of Christ,
He wrote passionately
Of his tumultuous relationship with Cynthia,
Cursing ships and seas when they took her away.
And then there is the nine year old Dante
Who sees the eight year old Beatrice
And realizes there will never be
A more beautiful seraphic girl;
He will marry another woman
For whom his father has promised him,
But he will never mention his wife in a poem
But will trust the prayers of Beatrice
To keep him and Virgil safe
Through the circles of Hell.
Less than a hundred years after Dante, enter Petrarch:
He sees Laura, a married woman,
For the rest of his life there is nothing
But love poems and tears;
He writes endlessly of her blonde hair,
Her piercing eyes,
He is envious of the ground that touches her feet;
The years achingly move forward and he only grows
More obsessed with the unobtainable Laura.
And there is my beloved Bob Dylan,
As his marriage to Sarah falls apart
He composes Blood On The Tracks
And then becomes God’s lonely man
Forever circling the globe on an endless tour
Trying to escape being Tangled Up In Blue.
When I’m alone lighting candles
And burning incense,
I fall into dreams about a tall girl,
The most beautiful I’ve ever seen,
But she’s entwined in arms that are not mine,
And I can only find solace
In the romantic and poetic defeats of the past.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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These Words Too Say What Love Was
ATHESE WORDS TOO SAY WHAT LOVE WAS
These words too say what Love was-
Though I am long from that love and those feelings-
Once there were songs in the night and great passion
And we were a kind of happiness that only the very blessed know-
I had dreamed of such love for so long
And you in your beauty were all Beauty could ever be-
We loved for a long time
And in that love I learned forever that Love is real-
But somehow in a way I will never understand
For you that love died-
And I was left loving without being loved
And had to go a long time in the pain of longing for you again-
But that was long long ago
And now where our love is no one can ever know
For it is only in memories that cannot truly capture what it really was-
Love it is true is the most beautiful thing we know
And I knew this with you
And will be grateful for it forever-
Though the nights the many years of nights in the long time that has passed say
There are other feelings by which we live and kinder quieter loves also -
O passion of my life oh destiny long gone oh Love I will never know again,
Do you blame yourself at all as I long ago have forgiven you
For abandoning the Beauty of our Life for long sad years of concentrated mindfilled gladnesses?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Soap
you wish i were true
to every word i wrote in my poems
like sadness
that i must be sad when my poems
talk about sadness
like separation and disgust and pain
that i must suffer
with the poems i write that i must have despair
and pain too
and disgust
for every word of disgust written in every word
in every line
how cruel of you
how cruel of truth
how can i justify my death when i speak only of death
and in the very poem
where i write the word
death
there is soap
there is this box of untruths in pandora and when i open it
they must spread and you may refuse to believe
me again
but it would be very cruel of you
to make these poems
all these poems be my life my only life
and lived
and day by day lived in accordance with the
mouths of these poems
empathy
is the word, it is like i am putting my feet in another person's
shoes
then i write, and i could have written about this word: happiness
joy, bliss
ecstasy, light, and amazing glory
i choose not to,
i think, i have too much of it, and i do not share it for now
there is no necessity
and i cannot really help
with so much loneliness and sadness out there
with them i stretch my hands to hold them and feel them
and they all become
myself. it is not soap then, and there are no bubbles in the skies
there is no child playing amazed by the bubbles that burst and by the
bubbles that
are so abundant.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Starlight Night
We lay hand in hand, head to head, eye to eye
The stars staring down, as if they were in envy
The moon radiating light upon us, as if it we were a showcase
The passion which was united, a passion of true love
Passion which wrote upon paper, can never portray my passion for you
True passion is like a song, A never ending list of cords and notes
An innovation of a creative mind, written from the soul and heart
A never ending canvas of joys and memories
True passion can never die, it can never fade away, for it lies deep down
You are my true passion, my true calling, my true love
poem by Michael James Kennedy Findlay
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Cacophony
We all have desires, wishes
Things that sometimes keep us running
If we try to ignore these then we live only
According to logic. We try to rule out what
Is known as passion. But why?
Why would anyone try to live a life that is...
Passionless? Well, it is hard to prove that it
Exist, especially if you wish to have it and
Another doesn't acknowledge it. I would like
To recommend living everyday to the fullest
With passion.
Without passion artists would never have created
Such splendid works, created such lyrics, wrote such
Books that takes us all so far away from where we are
Passion allows us to live another life. In fact, it may
Just happen to take over one's life.
That is why so many live passionless. They fear that
It will take over all logic-it doesn't. It only makes
Life more splendid. Love without passion
Is not love at all. It is easy to remember and give a call
To your beloved. Sing them a lovely tune-
If that is how love makes you feel.
Silly. Very silly, but all in the name of passion.
The second you first fall in love is an important event.
It is not something that is to pass fast and go all spent.
But rather so passionate that one must remember to
Save and cherish this passion and keep the flames from
Burning out. Alpha and omega; forever and ever.
To save the love from beginning to end:
One just must remember to not let
The words change into only words.
Or favors turn into mutual agreements.
Because in passion all things are done in love
'Without any if and or buts about it! '
So live life passionately with all the love you can offer
If you feel you haven't any to offer, that is not so
It is an easy thing to do, just give the next person that walks by
A big smile, and there is no telling just why, but
Simply because you live a llife full of passion. A word that is
Hard to define, but when experienced and expressed
It is easy to understand.
When looking for love, stop. don't search. It is looking for you.
Let the cacophony continue until it's sound and love has you found.
poem by Amanda May Moore
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Long Way To Go
We still got a long way to go
We still got a long way to go
We all got a long way to go
What's keeping us apart isn't selfishness
What's holding us together isn't love
Listen to the man who's been
Touched all his life
Yes he's the one they call the fool
Where is the saviour of the sidewalk life
And the road that takes us to the crusades
I've seen the shadows
As they're moving in my sleep
Leading the blind poet to his grave
We still got a long way to go
We still got a long way to go
Yes we all got a long way to go
Please don't waste your energy on me my friend
Cause we still got a long way to go
We'll meet again some day
But right now just go away
Cause I still got a long way to go
The silence is speaking
So why am I weeping
I guess I love it
I love it to death
We still got a long way to go
Yes we still got a long way to go
Yes we all got a long way to go
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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My inspirational poets
Let me think of the Vietnamese literature
let me miss the poet named Ba Huyen Thanh Quan
Who is so lovely and so warm.
As her romantic love poems are so clever and
forever for thousand years.
Let me dream of Nguyen Du
in the romantic love story of Lady called Kieu
that is so fantastic love life
and the beautiful nature 's lovely way
still lives in his poems forever.
Let my soul sinks in their marvelous poems
that are so simple and so beautiful for thousand years
AS my childhood fills all of their poems
that let me stirs the emotion never forget.
To their beautiful poems are forever and always.
poem by Natasa Tocuc
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Help Me
I love David, but he lives so far away from me. In
fact, he lives in his own world and I know that he
doesn't know me. I saw his picture in a book. I know
I'm not existent for ‘im, but I love ‘im so much. He's
existent for me. I want to meet ‘im to make this love
become real, but I read all his books and I know that
I have no chance. Even so, I still want to do this. I must
hide my intentions, firstly. Yes, I know what I have to do.
I'll send ‘im a letter writing that I want to meet ‘im for
a different reason. I‘ll lie. He will believe me. It ‘ll be an
ideal lie. Slowly, I can become his ideal woman. In time, I hope
that he'll fall in love with me. Apparently, the feelings of
love will come from ‘im, and I'll be that person needing
time to think about this. My thoughts will ne'er be an open
book for ‘im, because my little lie can fail. I can play this game
all my life ne'er letting ‘im discover the naked truth. I can hide
my consciousness. It is easy for me to do this, but I don't know
if I can lie about myself all life. Probably, I'll become an old
woman lying herself to survive. I don't know how many years
I can keep my consciousness in this sad ontological duality
Between being myself and being someone else in his eyes, at
the same time. I know that it ain't good what I'm doing, but
I'm desperately in love with ‘im. I remember that Descartes
wrote that ''we perceive ideas as objects''. Even I'm so
desperately in love with ‘im, I cannot accept this love to
become the object of my lie. Moreover, I cannot deny myself,
even I love my writer so much. My mother told me once that
she thinks that love belongs only to human beings. She said
that love is God becoming feelings inside of us. I remember
that I replied that love is in itself, because even God loves us.
I told her about Cusanus, who wrote that 'the world is not God
but is not anything other than God'. ''Much more than love, God
is truth, she said, because He is ''the fullness of being'." Yes'', I said,
‘'He is uncreated and creates, He gives being out o' nothing after
negating His antithetical nothingness''. I was so happy in that
moment being with God and waiting for a miracle to happen. Now,
those beautiful words seemingly lost their meaning for me. I can
see myself in the future, a very sad woman.I don't want my
consciousness to become a negation. I'm afraid o' this, while being
aware that my love is dying in self. If I wouldn't have Eckhart in my mind,
probably I'd have more courage.I love David and I'm so unhappy!
poem by Marieta Maglas
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A Girl Called Passion
Dreaming my life one day at a time,
Thinking of what I did was wrong or insane.
Thinking of you how you were always so true,
I know you was always in motions,
And someone told me you name is passion.
So I want you to know that I was born to love you,
Each day of my life is meant to be looking at the moon.
Love is like magic and it always will be,
My love still remains strong as never did.
Love works in ways that are passion and strange,
And there's nothing in life that love cannot change.
Passion can transform you Into beauty and splendour,
Your sweetness and grace can be always tender.
Your passion is unselfish, understanding and kind,
I love you with my heart and with my mind.
Your passion is the answer that everyone seeks,
Passion is the language, that every everyone speaks.
Dreaming my life one day at a time,
Thinking of what I did was wrong or insane.
Thinking of you how you were always so true,
I know you was always in motions,
And someone told me you name is passion.
poem by Gianni Pintus
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Awaiting Thee
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song.
When thou art gone;
My waking hours are filled only with thoughts of thee.
When I sleep,
My dreams are filled with thee-
As I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Lonely day,
After lonely day.
Lonely night,
After lonely night.
When The sun shines bright,
And the songbirds sing their joyous chorus-
It reminds me of this love of ours-
As I long for thee.
I await thee,
My love-
Throughout the lonely day-
Till the setting sun dwindles in dusk’s twilight-
Beyond golden pastures-
Fading in the night.
My love;
I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Throughout the lonely night,
As the crickets chirp their symphony,
And in the darkness,
Like floating candles,
The fireflies glow.
And I remember our love,
As I gaze at the silver moon,
And diamond stars.
Forever embracing this love of ours.
As I sleep at night,
I dream only of being with thee,
My love.
As I awake,
And the sun rises at dawn over the emerald mountain tops,
I await thee,
My love.
Longing for you-
Day through day,
Night through night-
I await thee,
My love.
My love;
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song…
poem by Philip Alarie
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The poem
I wrote a poem that didn't
ryhme,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme to the one I love,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme to the one I love
more than life,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme to the one I love more than life,
of which she did more than like,
the poem was short,
repeated myself alot,
but the one I loved more than life,
felt that love is like the poem I wrote,
full of joy and full of hurt,
the poem I wrote when I was full of hype,
coz the one I loved more than life is the one that now fills in my life all gaps,
the one that brings me up when am down,
a smile on my face from a frown,
music to my ears when we talk,
love in my heart when I'm near,
i wrote a poem that didn't ryhme for the one I love more than life.
poem by Kennedy Musyoka
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I Await Thee
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song.
When thou art gone;
My waking hours are filled only with thoughts of thee.
When I sleep,
My dreams are filled with thee-
As I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Lonely day,
After lonely day.
Lonely night,
After lonely night.
When The sun shines bright,
And the songbirds sing their joyous chorus-
I remember our love-
As I long for thee.
I await thee,
My love-
Throughout the lonely day-
Till the setting sun dwindles in dusk’s twilight-
Beyond golden pastures-
Fading in the night.
My love;
I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Throughout the lonely night,
As the crickets chirp their symphony,
And in the darkness,
Like floating candles,
The fireflies glow.
And I remember our love,
As I gaze at the silver moon,
And diamond stars.
And I Forever embrace this love of ours.
As I sleep at night,
I dream only of being with thee,
My love.
As I awake,
And the sun rises at dawn over the emerald mountain tops,
I await thee,
My love.
Longing for thee-
Day through day,
Night through night-
I await thee,
My love.
My love;
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song…
poem by Philip Alarie
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(Valentine's Day) Romance, Emotion, Passion, And Love
You'll never lose….., for it fills your heart……,
Instantly you feel it….., when Cupid shoots his dart……,
Now you won't be lonely…., ever again……,
For God has smiled on you from Heaven above……,
With Romance, Emotion, Passion And Love…..! ! !
Romance, Emotion, Passion And Love…..,
Romance, Emotion, Passion And Love……,
It's the thrill of a lifetime…., there's never enough….,
Romance, Emotion, Passion And Love…..! ! !
When luck decides to touch your soul……,
Suddenly you're body loses control…….,
All sadness is gone and your dreams are on fire……,
Desire is all your mind is thinking of…….,
With Romance, Emotion, Passion And Love…..! ! !
Romance, Emotion, Passion And Love…..,
Romance, Emotion, Passion And Love……,
It's the thrill of a lifetime…., there's never enough….,
Romance, Emotion, Passion And Love…..! ! !
..................................Trade Martin.2012.
poem by Trade Martin
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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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To Be An Anthology Poet
To be an anthology poet whose work
Children hate to read in school
And re-discover in later life as meaningful and beautiful-
To be an anthology poet
And have generations know one’s poems
As part of the eternal canon-
To be an anthology poet
One of the few names
That has survived
When thousands of one’s contemporaries’ have not-
To be an anthology poet
To have written a few of the great and the memorable poems-
To be an anthology poet
To be what I am not
And most likely never will be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Cry To The Darkening Sea
A song I wrote
I'm looking along the sea,
Searching for an answer,
Seeing only darkness,
Comforting the icy soul beneath.
Our passion is forever,
A silent whisper
To the night,
Our passion is forever,
A cry in the darkness.
I'm sorry,
I'm not who I say,
I'm sorry,
I couldn't stay today.
I've lived this lie
I've cried these tears,
I've gone through the pain
You've stood by for so many years
This is the message
This is the truth,
I don't care anymore
This is the message
This is the truth,
The darkness is my best friend
This is the message
This is the truth,
I am the lie.
Tears won't express the anger,
Darkness can't console this pain,
Dead or alive
I will love you,
Broke or rich
I will love you,
Hate me and I will love you.
Where is the love,
You can't even stand to look at me,
You are hating,
The darkness consuming me.
This is the message
This is the truth,
I am who I am
This is the message
This is the truth,
I don't love you anymore
This is your message
This is your truth.
poem by Evan Skora
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