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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Women's harvest song
I am waving a ripe sunflower,
I am scattering sunflower pollen to the four world-quarters.
I am joyful because of my melons,
I am joyful because of my beans,
I am joyful because of my squashes.
The sunflower waves.
So did the corn wave
When the wind blew against it,
So did my white corn bend
When the red lightning descended upon it,
It trembled as the sunflower
When the rain beat down its leaves.
Great is a ripe sunflower,
And great was the sun above my corn-fields.
His fingers lifted up the corn-ears,
His hands fashioned my melons,
And set my beans full in the pods.
Therefore my heart is happy
And I will lay many blue prayer-sticks at the shrine of Ta-wa.
I will give corn to Ta-wa,
Yellow corn, blue corn, black corn.
I wave the sunflower,
The sunflower heavy with pollen.
I wave it, I turn it, I sing,
Because I am happy.
poem by Amy Lowell
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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Pleasure's fun. It's great, but you can't keep it going forever; just accept the fact that it's here and it's gone, and maybe then again, it will come back, and you'll get to do it again. Joy lasts forever. Pleasure is purely self-centered. It's all about your pleasure: it's about you. It's a selfish, self-centered emotion, that is created by a self-centered motive of greed. Joy is compassion. Joy is giving yourself to somebody else, or something else. And it's a kind of thing that is, in its subtlety and lowness, much more powerful than pleasure. You gethung up on pleasure; you're doomed. If you pursue joy, you will find everlasting happiness.
quote by George Lucas
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Secret Life Of Plants
I cant conceive the nucleus of all
Begins inside a tiny seed
And what we think as insignificant
Provides the purest air we breathe
But who am I to doubt or question the inevitable being
For these are but a few discoveries
We find inside the secret life of plants
A species smaller than the eye can see
Or larger than most living things
And yet we take from it without consent
Our shelter, food, habilment
But who am I to doubt or question the inevitable being
For these are but a few discoveries
Wwe find inside the secret life of plants
But far too many give them in return
A stomp, cut, drown, or burn
As is theyre nothing
But if you ask yourself where would you be
Without them you will find you would not
And some believe antennas are their leaves
That spans beyond our galaxy
Theyve been, they are and probably will be
Who are the mediocrity
But who am I to doubt or question the inevitable being
For these are but a few discoveries
We find inside the secret life of plants
For these are but a few discoveries
We find inside the secret life of plants
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
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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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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The brain, that sows not corn, plants thistles.
If the brain sows not corn, it plants thistles.
Tickets
The ticket was sold, in the soil of waters and roots,
Profiting from the sale of plants, a real awakening.
The gardeners travelled to a gathering so great,
Locomotion no problem, making progress against the weeds.
What are these plants? Plants give soil a trouble,
When do flowers reckon their demise?
The tickets have cancelled the talk of the nation,
Then the stages ended for the whole conversation.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Intimately Or Not
No one I am with,
Intimately or not.
Will I permit myself,
To be shadowed...
With my being blocked.
I am meant to rise,
As if from the skies...
Sunlight appears,
To excite with delight...
And,
With a promise that shows clear.
I want and need to astonish.
Not fade away...
Behind a Sunset,
Forever remembered.
No one I am with,
Intimately or not.
Will I permit myself,
To be shadowed...
With my being blocked.
That is not on my list,
Of preferences.
Too many years,
Of dedicated discipline...
Has gone into 'this'.
With devotion and sacrifice,
I have enjoyed.
Not to carelessly be dismissed.
And it has been done,
At the expense of no one...
I want shunned.
But I have chosen in my life,
To love and share.
Not to initiate,
Assumptions to spare.
I want everyone to know,
I am there...
To give and take.
I will never be one,
To have my presence faked.
I want everyone to know,
I am here!
And I 'will' be there as well,
For anyone I share myself...
In a comfort both of us will dwell.
But I will not let it believed,
I shadow anyone...
To acknowledge that they lead.
Intimately or not...
My weight is my own,
To elevate, cast or seen to heave.
I want that known,
As my responsibility!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beauty....... of what?
The earth wait's the sky drizzles
Seasons come and seasons go
With the smell of weather
The farmer chooses to decorate his farm
A farmer believes every leaf
Of the plant as its own
At every point protects and nurtures
The plants every leaf
The farmer that stood by
That plants every need and move
The plants have no respect for him
The farmer doesn't even find out
Who caste the evil eye
But all that's left is his ruined farm of hope
What was ones a living green
Is now nothing but flying sand?
What did I plant and what did I get?
What did I plant and what did it become?
Wonders the helpless farmer
Even when crying on the inside
Smiles just for its plants
A farmer believes every leaf
Of the plant as its own
At every point protects the plants every leaf
What did I want and what did I get?
Is all the farmer could think
poem by Kiara Davar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Grow grass, not corn
If you want to help someone grow up,
Do it like growing grass in a lawn,
Not like growing corn in a farm
Growing corn expecting a harvest
Will mar the pleasure of your efforts
In case the harvest turns a failure.
The pleasant mind grown out of the helps given
Need not be painted with bitterness
By putting to the test the one you helped.
28.12.2008.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From another life and time
Even if I could send a dog out
to try and find you, hunt you down
as stated in another poet’s verses
even if that hound
could do irreparable damage
to the man that love you now
and panting bring back as a token,
your panties, stockings
or carry your brassiere in its mouth
you will still remain lost to me,
will still be involved
with somebody else intimately
and someone else will experience
the pleasure that you give,
will hear your cries and sighs,
will comprehend the look in your eyes
and I will remain
a lost love, an old flame
from another life and time.
[Reference: A Dog After Love by Yehuda Amichai.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The great man is…
To take revenge is the greatest pleasure,
Hetero sex is the deepest pleasure.
If one found the same pleasure somewhere else,
He would be regarded as a great man.
08.07.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I find, by experience, that the mind and the body are more than married, for they are most intimately united; and when one suffers, the other sympathizes.
quote by Earl of Chesterfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dancin In My Mind
Verse1:
Feelings carry away with me
Till I tremble no more
Music makes lovers of all of us
Out on the floor
Oh, I dont know you too well
And we dont have much time
But whenever you cross my mind
Chorus:
Well be dancin like we did that summer
When no boundaries kept us confined
Well be intimately dancin in my mind
Verse2:
I wish I had many lives
At least more than this one
Then I could deeply feel and learn
To love everyone
No, I just cant up and leave
Everything behind
But still you have touched my life
Chorus:
And Ill be dancin like we did that summer
When no boundaries kept us confined
Well be intimately dancin in my mind
You feel lovely
Youre just what I need right now
Do do doo da doo
Chorus:
Dancin like we did that summer
When no boundaries kept us confined
Well be intimately dancin in my mind
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The greatest thing
I put the seed
into ground that I
mingled with dark black compost.
Rows of beans,
some carrots, some pumpkins
and spinach
I sowed into the orange brown earth.
Some small tomato plants,
I planted in blocks
and pressed small
frames of reeds
on top
for them to crawl over.
Every day I sprayed water
and tended the weeds
and in time
little green plants
sprang out of the ground
and the tomatoes crept
and crawled all over
their reeds.
It was great to be part
of spring and see
living things sprout
from the ground,
but a dog dug
some carrots out
and a flock of mice
came to eat
tomatoes from the plants.
Yet in time
some great vegetables
came to my table
and spring was awesome
and so was summer
and to tend my own garden
is the greatest thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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