When I first loved her
she was a passionflower
to pour a fever into.
When I loved her later,
she was a tongue for my heart.
When, yet again,
a mutual flame ignited,
love cracked our brains,
and out flew
all our angels and devils.
When at last I did not love her
as much as I liked her,
we fell,
and that falling
we now call love.
Categories:
passionflower, poetry,
Form: Free verse
The winter snow and freeze killed everything
I planted in the spring,
Rhododendrons, roses, Hawaii hibiscus
And the bougainvillea orange king.
Parsley, sage and thyme are gone,
Peony and pansies too,
The daisies died and I still sigh
For the loss of primrose blue.
No more azaleas or alyssum,
Passionflower or peppermint,
The coleus did not last nor sassafras,
And goodbye to rosemary’s scent.
And all the leaves on the lemon tree
Look more like a weeping willow,
Sagging sadly as if begging madly
To finally let her go.
But Spring is looming ‘round the bend
And new seeds await good earth,
To come alive in sun-filled skies
And signify life’s worth.
As all things come, and all must go
In a whisp of place and time,
Like flowers and plants in a cosmic dance,
The seasons of life are Sublime.
© Terrell Martin, 01/27/2025
Categories:
passionflower, metaphor, seasons,
Form: Rhyme
Dad is out back,
speaking to his swedes and turnips.
He only grows tubers, root vegetables,
that I sullenly refuse to eat.
There is one flower
a Passionflower, 'Passiflora Incarnate'
that clings to the garden fence.
I could not see any passion in it,
until mum showed me
the creamy crucifix within
the blue and white corona.
Dad belly laughs
as mum, showing me,
piously makes the sign of the cross.
Dad is digging up a real beauty,
that's what he called it,
a 'real beauty',
a soil crusted cannonball,
the monstrous offspring
of a cabbage and a turnip.
He was not a religious man,
but he did believe fervently,
in those strange passions
some have
for cabbage soup
and mashed turnip.
Categories:
passionflower, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Tickle stamen dances with the dew.
Released, scent in the air,
fragranced sweetly K-new.
Bubble your brew of pheromone v-aperture
My attention from your look of capture
Brook mirroring syndication of air
Vagrant incendiary caption of
captivation sniff stare
Female patterns in holding
Memories mansion room unfolding,
scaffolding, molding
Fingering you to be most there
Ole Factory building, crescendo of
harmonics produced gilding as eyes water in their Venused trap closing
in seduced dosaging (passaflora incarnata)
carnal erotica
mooning with purples and pinks,
flash of ovary, seed,
flirting with your dopamine, audacity
Categories:
passionflower, art,
Form: Ballad
My passionflower
You, me, music, night, poems
the touch of your lips
Categories:
passionflower, appreciation, inspirational, love, magic,
Form: Haiku
This crystal rose.
So fragile to the touch.
Petals damaged even by a look.
Thorns blunted by a single word.
This rose so easily crushed.
Given for eternity.
So easily returned.
This symbol of eternal love.
A man's pride sacrificed in hope.
All for the chance of everlasting love.
fed by emotion
fueled by a heart on fire
It's not a passionflower
or a buttercup with petals
that says she loves me, loves me not
it's a beating bleeding crystal rose.
mine to give freely
to whoever I love
Categories:
passionflower, love,
Form: Free verse
watching you drive away via the phone receiver
after an argument that left me riddled with confusion
wondering how we got here
i guess i am the kid that you choose to see me as again
i want to be the passionflower of your spotlight
yet and still when i am given the key to that special place that you possess,
i am a block of ice overwhelmed by chattering knots
while in the dark of my lonely, drafty apartment, i can still smell
the rare scent of the definition of you
all of a sudden i become that certain type of toad aching to be healed
i guess i am the kid that you choose to see me as again
i want to be the passionflower of your spotlight
however and nevertheless when i am offered the special welcome mat of your arousal,
i am a mummified maniac driven insane by an overtly elongated monotony....
Categories:
passionflower, emotions, lost, remember, sad,
Form: Free verse
if i could plant a seed in the house of me,
i would make every attempt to grow you
at every angle of the house of me
i enjoy having you as my interior designer
making me better and more presentable when
it comes down to just simply being myself
whether the sun shines or the rain falls, you
provide the protective coating never before
discovered in the history of nature period
okay, despite the fact that i am getting ahead
of myself, i just wanted to step outside of myself
and tell you in my own little shy way that i love
and admire every fiber of your being
i know that i can be moody, introverted, and to myself,
but you look deeper into my soul and find the groove
on the inside of me to move to
my appreciation of you cannot really be anywhere near
close to covered in the words of this poem, so i am just
gonna conclude by blowing a solidification thank you kiss
and present you with this passionflower as a symbol of my
devout devotion to you....thank you baby....
Categories:
passionflower, appreciation, celebration, dedication, for
Form: Free verse
he watched her,
lying there in the grass, among flowers,
the cherry petals covering her slowly…
he suddenly realized
how sweet was the shadow
touching her
and each flower gently offering
its tribute of death to her
was no less beautiful
than that wonderful crimson bloom
he himself had helped birth
on her chest…
the nectar of that flower still on his hands
and the ethereality of the cherry-tree shade on his retina,
he wished to grow roots
and draw life from the very earth that she,
his masterpiece,
was slowly
beginning to become
Categories:
death, imagination, introspection, passionflower,
Form: Free verse