If your corn has a herbicide-tolerant gene, it means you can spray your herbicides and kill the weeds; you won't kill your corn because it's producing a gene that makes it tolerant of the herbicide.
quote by Jeremy Rifkin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weeds
In the backyard
Of my heart
I put some seed of love
But weeds grew too fast
Though I used herbicide
But they know how to survive
I threw out the rose, now I love
The weeds for their survival instinct
And power to grow everywhere
Without following any row
My mind follows the heart
And grows too fast like weeds
To pervade to hover
The minds and souls
Of people all over.
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Tolerant Society
A tolerant society we've heard it all before
That fellow he is different he is from a distant shore
He never will be my friend so him i will ignore
I will only tolerate him just that and nothing more.
A tolerant society those words often used of late
By the leaders of the Government in a so called egalatarian State
Yet his birthday or successes we will never celebrate
We will only tolerate him he will never be our mate.
A tolerant society words best used to describe
That we will put up with others but we'll stick by our own tribe
Them we shall not acknowledge or to them say hello
And about them and their culture we do not wish to know.
In a tolerant society we only tolerate
And closer ties or friendships with them we do not wish to cultivate
He is from a different culture and our differences are great
And we only tolerate him he will never be our mate.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Arguments
I have as much right as you have
To air my view. Be tolerant.
I have as much right as you have
To say of God. Be tolerant.
Arguments take you nowhere,
And serve as an entertainment.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rhythm
He makes a beeline for the place
Where he gets his only ace
Sometimes hes standing in the rain
Oh gene kellys hat and cane
He has the rhythm in his head
He has the rhythm, sing!
Its chaotic at the bar
B & o those sweaty drops
We are all mesmorized
To the thing we have inside
Inside, outside, eastside, west
We kill the beast
Yourside, myside, worlds collide, yes
We kill the beast
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rhythm
He makes a beeline for the place
Where he gets his only ace
Sometimes hes standing in the rain
Oh gene kellys hat and cane
He has the rhythm in his head
He has the rhythm, sing!
Its chaotic at the bar
B & o those sweaty drops
We are all mesmorized
To the thing we have inside
Inside, outside, eastside, west
We kill the beast
Yourside, myside, worlds collide, yes
We kill the beast
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the other hand, I'm very tolerant as well. I expect that everybody can play what they want. I'm only not tolerant when it comes to myself and what is presented on my album that I have to listen to for the rest of my life.
quote by Eberhard Weber
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The gene unlike the soma lives
Gene is life; cell is carrier.
Gene is retainable; soma is disposable.
The soma is bound to decay.
The gene transmits into the new-born.
26.10.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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 hope my fans remember my name is Gene Vincent and not Gene Autry.
quote by Gene Vincent
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Herbicidi
Jaz sem majhna roz'ica zraven travice z'ivim
listke imam zelene in prav lepo dis'im
najbolj sem vesela ko sonc'ek vzide
najbolj pa sovraz'im koso in herbicide
Sovraz'im herbicide
Herbicidi so strupeni in slabega okusa
barva ni pomembna vaz'na je vsebina
vsebina pa je taks'na kot da bi dal sol
in perje od kokos'i v en kozarec vina
in dodal s'e malo olja iz motorja
c'rnega kot je c'rno dno c'rnega morja
in c'e v to dodamo mleto kac'jo drobovino
to nikakor ni vec' isto dobro vino
ampak obic'ajen neuz'iten herbicid
Sovraz'im herbicide
Mi se samo drz'imo navodil
unic'iti vse kar vsebuje klorofil
roz'ice plevel za nas je oboje trava
s'li bomo naprej dokler svet ne bo pus'c'ava
Oragato gato gade
oragato gato gade
oragato gato gade kinaj
sigilaj gilaj gi geda
sigilaj gilaj gi geda
sigilaj gilaj gi geda kinaj
Jaz sem majhna roz'ica zraven travice z'ivim
listke imam zelene in prav lepo dis'im
song performed by by Zmelkoow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where Corn Don't Grow
(Roger Murrah/Mark Alan Springer)
As we sat on the front porch
Of that old grey house where I was born and raised
Starin' at the dusty fields
Where my daddy worked hard every day
I think it kinda hurt him when I said Daddy
There's a lot that I don't know
But don't you ever dream about a life
Where corn don't grow
He just sat there silent
Staring at his favorite coffee cup
I saw a storm of mixed emotion in his eyes
When he looked up
He said Son I know at your age
Seems like this ol' world is turning slow
And you think you'll find the answer to it all
Where corn don't grow
Hard times are real
There's dusty fields
No matter where you go
You may change your mind
'Cause the weeds are high
Where corn don't grow
I remember feeling guilty
When Daddy turned and walked back in the house
I was only seventeen back then
But I thought that I knew more than I know now
I can't say he didn't warn me
This city life's a hard row to hoe
Ain't it funny how a dream can turn around
Where corn don't grow
Hard times are real
There's dusty fields
No matter where you go
And you may change your mind
'Cause the weeds are high
Where corn don't grow
You may change your mind
Oh the weeds are high
Where corn don't grow
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forgetting The Consequences Of Our Ignoble Actions....
sometimes we forget
about consequences
we advance with our own
motives
that satisfaction
that fire that seemingly is
consuming every
particle of our being
we become the firewood
the grass
the gasoline that must burn
itself
into nothingness
where is our gene
of Prometheus?
it must be missing for now
we advance as armies hungry
for a kill
and we kill anyone that we meet
after
making a war and
killing all
the enemies
then we kill even friends
as we are hungry
for the killing
for the killing's sake
we have forgotten us
and the incoming consequences of our
ignoble actions
what follows next is
unimaginable
it is a planet of fire
where words
do not exist.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Freud had a gene for inefficiency, and I think I have a gene for efficiency.
quote by Albert Ellis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Jean Bop
(VincentLevy)
Bluejean baby, with your big blue eyes
Don't want you looking at other guys
Got to make you give me, one more chance
I can't keep still, so baby let's dance
Well the bluejean bop is the bop for me
It's the bop that's done in a dungaree
You flip your hip, free your knee
Squeel on your heel baby, one to three
Well the bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, baby won't you bop with Gene. (Bop Blue Caps, Bop)
Well bluejean baby when I bop with you
Well my heart starts hoppin' like a kangaroo
My feet do things they never done before
Well bluejean baby, give me more more more
Well the bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, baby won't you bop with Gene. (Rock again Blue Caps, Go)
Well the bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, baby won't you bop with Gene.
(Blue Caps, bop with Gene, Let's go)
Well the bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, baby won't you bop with Gene.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What does gene A do? What does gene B do? What does it do in different contexts? What's its importance? We know the answer to that for a very small number of genes, the ones that made themselves evident many years ago.
quote by David Baltimore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Less Tolerant of Your Success
Tolerant?
I am accused of not being tolerant?
This has got to be something filmed,
On a candid camera.
It is...
Isn't it?
I guess you will soon accusing me,
Of preventing your success?
How about this one...
Holding you back,
From promotions you were not qualified to get,
Even though I place higher scores...
On all of the recent tests.
Oh...
And yesI
How could I forget?
Forgive me for introducing race,
To profile you based upon the color of your skin.
And not consider your efforts made,
To improve your life and protect your assets.
And excuse all of the people I represent.
You know the ones enjoying the act,
Of suppressing themselves.
With the love of stress,
Lived under constant duress.
You are most correct.
I guess I have been less tolerant of your success.
When I should be more grateful to know,
My own people are thrilled to show suppression expressed...
In urban ghettos wherever across this country,
Anyone goes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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James Bond has a license to kill, rockstars have a license to be outrageous. Rock is about grabbing people's attention.
quote by Gene Simmons
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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