Passiflora
Passiflora, known also as the passion flowers or passion vines, is a genus of about 500 species of flowering plants, the namesakes of the family Passifloraceae.
They are mostly vines, with some being shrubs, and a few species being herbaceous. For information about the fruit of the passiflora plant, see passionfruit. The monotypic genus Hollrungia seems to be inseparable from Passiflora, but further study is needed.
Distribution
The family Passifloraceae has a pantropical distribution. Passiflora itself is absent from Africa, where many other members of the family Passifloraceae occur (e.g. the more plesiomorphic Adenia).
Most species are found in South America, eastern Asia, southern Asia and New Guinea. Nine separate species of Passiflora are native to the United States, found from Ohio to the north, west to California and south to the Florida Keys. Four or more species are also found in Australia and a single endemic species in New Zealand. New species continue to be identified: for example, P. pardifolia and P. xishuangbannaensis have only been known to the scientific community since 2006 and 2005, respectively.
Podcasts:
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by Voltaire
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by Don Omar
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by Kevin Fowler
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by Crocell
The Chosen
by: VoltaireLast night a moth came to my bed,
And filled my tired weary head,
With horrid tales of you,
I can't believe it's true.
But then the lamp shade smiled at me,
And it said, "Believe," it said, "believe."
I want you to know it's nothing personal
First time I had sex I was three.
First time consenting was thirteen.
Though you weren't there you remind,
Me of those hands.
Roses are red, violets are blue,
If I'm schizophrenic, then I am too!
Whatever it takes to escape.
I hope you understand,
Why I'm forced to take your life in my hands.
I want you to know it's nothing personal.
And though we've never met,
I've seen your image in a million waking dreams.
Your eyes they call to me, "Set me free."
Did I ever tell you? You look like my mother.
She once left me in a supermarket.
I promised myself that I'd never feel that way again.
Did I ever tell you? You look like my dear old mother.
I hope you understand,
Why I'm forced to take my life in your name.
I want you to know it's nothing all the same.
And though we've never met,
I've seen your image in a million waking dreams.
Your eyes they call to me, "Set me free."