The brain, that sows not corn, plants thistles.
Related quotes
If the brain sows not corn, it plants thistles.
The ass carries corn to the mill, and gets thistles.
He who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.
Corn Circles
Corn circles
Appearing all over the land
Corn circles
Appearing all over the land
Nobody knows where they come from
Nobody understands
Corn circles
Mysterious symbols in the fields
Corn circles
Mysterious symbols in the fields
No one knows - are they phony
Or maybe are they real?
Corn circles!
Corn circles!
Corn circles
Is somebody playing a trick?
Corn circles
Pixies, witches, hoaxers
Take your pick
Throw a few theories out there
See what sticks!
Corn circles!
Corn circles!
Corn circles
Patterns in the gold
Corn circles
Pretty patterns in the gold
Like something out of the future
Or something very old
Corn circles!
Corn circles!
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds. A good deed is never lost; he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.
quote by Saint Basil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A tree is known by its fruit a man by his deeds. A good deed is never lost he who sows courtesy reaps friendship, and he who plants kindness gathers love.
quote by Saint Basil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Abstinence sows sand all over...
Abstinence sows sand all over
The ruddy limbs & flaming hairt
But Desire Gratified
Plants fruits of life & beauty there
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1793)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; who sows a field, or trains a flower, or plants a tree, is more than all.
quote by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Women's song of the corn
How beautiful are the corn rows,
Stretching to the morning sun,
Stretching to the evening sun.
Very beautiful, the long rows of corn.
How beautiful is the white corn,
I husk it,
I grind it.
Very beautiful, my white corn.
How beautiful is the red corn,
I gather it and make fine meal,
I am glad doing this.
Very beautiful, my red corn.
How beautiful is the black corn,
I give it to my father,
To my mother,
I give it to my child.
Very beautiful, the black corn.
How beautiful is the mottled corn,
Like the sky with little clouds,
I eat it looking at the sky.
Very beautiful, my mottled corn.
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I know my corn plants intimately, and I find it a great pleasure to know them.
quote by Barbara McClintock
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Tenant of Mrs. Van Kleeck
Translation of a letter from a tenant of Mrs. Van Kleeck to that lady, dated January 9, 1787
My very good landlady, Mistress Van Kleeck,
(For the tears that o'erwhelm me I scarcely can speak)
I know that I promis'd you hogs two or three
(But who knows his destiny? Certain not me!)
That I promis'd three hogs I don't mean to deny
(I can prove that I had five or six upon sty.)
Three hogs did I say? Three sows I say then
'Pon honour I ne'er had a male upon pen.
Well Madam, the long and the short of the clatter
For mumbling & mincing will not better the matter;
And murder and truth, my dear mammy wd say
By some means or other forever saw day;
And Daddy himself, as we chop'd in the wood,
Would often observe that lying wasn't good.
Tell truth, my sweet fellow, no matter who feels it,
It ne'er can do hurt to the man who reveals it.
But stop! While my Daddy and Mammy's the subject
I am running aside the original object --
The sows, my sweet madam, the sows I repeat,
Which you and your household expected to eat,
Instead of attending their corn and their swill
Gave way to an ugly he-sow's wicked will.
When 'twill end your good ladyship need not be told,
For Nature is still as she hath been of old,
And when he cries YES mortal may not cry NO -
So Madam, farewell, with my holliday bow.
poem by Major Henry Livingston Jr.
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Bad Brain
I used to be an A student
I never used to complain
I used to be a truant
But I'm still the same
Bad bad brain
Bad bad brain
I used to go to parties
I used to drink champagne
Now I'm beginning to feel the strain
Bad bad brain
I used to be in show biz
I used to have fortune and fame
I used to have pleasure and pain
I used to have a name
Bad bad brain
Now I'm on the Bowery
I can't remember my name
Bad bad brain
Bad bad brain
Bad bad brain...bad bad brain...
song performed by by Ramones from Road To Ruin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Rainy
In the rainy, in my village
It`s good to see
Green grasses around,
Corn fields looking green
With rice plants growing
Vegetable plants are with flowers and fruits,
In morning and evening
Dew on grass, on leaves
Looks like....
Clouds sail,
Cover the blue sky
But when it rains
Changes everything,
Thatch roofs as waterfalls
Let the water fall down
Making some sound.
Dragon-flies move here and there,
Sit on a grass
And challenge one to capture
But when a hand moves
It flies far and again
Sits there to joke.
poem by Satyabrata Barik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If a man plants melons he will reap melons; if he sows beans, he will reap beans.
You really get the most out of sweet corn if you pick the corn off the stalk and rush it to a pot of boiling water. The longer you wait, the more sugar you lose. But if you get it in the first half hour, that is the sweetest corn ever.
quote by Sam Donaldson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Monsanto or Monsatan?
Monsanto perpetrating stealth genocide;
By splicing genes of animals, insects n' plants
They've pushed 'Mother Nature' far aside
Imagine eating corn crossed with fish or ants
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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John Barley-Corn, My Foe
John Barley-corn, my foe, John,
The song I have to sing
Is not in praise of you, John,
E'en though you are a king.
Your subjects they are legion, John,
I find where'er I go:
They wear your yoke upon their necks,
John Barley-Corn, my foe.
John Barley-Corn, my foe, John,
By your despotic sway
The people of our country, John,
Are suffering to-day.
You lay the lash upon their backs;
Yet willingly they go
And pay allegiance at the polls,
John Barley-Corn, my foe.
John Barley-Corn, my foe, John,
You've broken many a heart,
And caused the bitter tear, John,
From many an eye to start,
The widow and the fatherless
From pleasant homes to go,
And lead a life of sin and shame,
John Barley-Corn, my foe.
John Barley-Corn, my foe, John,
May Heaven speed the hour,
When Temperance shall wear the crown
And Rum shall lose its power;
When from the East unto the West
The people all shall know
Their greatest curse has been removed,
John Barley-Corn, my foe!
poem by Charles Follen Adams from Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Majestic Tree
They bow to the winds that pass
The beautiful majestic trees,
With arms up toward the skies
They laugh in the summer breeze.
They provide shade and shelter for the bee,
He plants history, who plants a tree.
They provide lumber for houses, and barns
For a roof to cover our heads,
Lumber for aeroplanes, ships and cars
And for caskets, to bury our dead.
This is only a few uses you see
He plants history, who plants a tree.
They provide rest for the weary man
Food and protection, for many wild things,
Home and sanctuary, for millions of birds
And rock their babies to sleep in swings.
Their magestic grace so wild and free
He plants history, who plants a tree.
poem by Della Hodgson James
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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