The next summer, 1794, corn grew dear, and distress began in our land.
quote by Joanna Southcott
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Screaming of The Corn
The summer was long
The summer was hot
The summer was dry
Days passed with
Not a cloud in the sky
And we had to water.
Everything that didn’t get water died.
The lawn dried up and blew away.
But the tomatoes grew and grew
And gave wave after wave
Of ruby red fruit.
We ate tomatoes until our gums were sore
Than gave the rest away
Only to find,
come morning yet more.
The pumpkin vines grew across the yard
When the cat walked by
The tendrils rose up
Like snakes and hissed menacingly.
We ate corn every day for a week
until the snap beans over powered
the corn stalks
breaking them down
Under the weight
Of fruit
And then we ate beans
And beans
And beans.
And the zucchini! ! !
The fruit grew right in front of our eyes
Not even waiting for the decency of night.
To veil it’s obscene, priapic swelling.
At night we prayed of the coming frost
And an end to this riotous fecundity.
But our dreams were filled with
feverish images of
Zucchini as big as zeppelins
Tomatoes the size of houses
And the screaming of the corn.
poem by Allan Thorne
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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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Sea Song of the Exiles
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Farewell, white cot whence the ripe grapes fall,
Gold blooms that bask on the mossy wall!
Dear land, farewell!
Hill, plain, and dell!
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Farewell, betrothed, with the pure, pale brow;
'Neath sombre heaven dark billows we plough.
Dear land, farewell!
In thee our loves dwell;
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Our eyes, whose tears all brightness blot,
Leave the dark wave for a darker lot!
Dear land, farewell!
In our heart's a knell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
poem by Victor Hugo
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With an open trade in corn and a fixed duty we should have every man in the country fully fed and happy, instead of our present situation in which so much distress exists - distress of our own producing.
quote by Joseph Hume
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother India
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are the paradise on earth
Where things are not in any dearth.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
In Your Lap live men and women
Of every caste and religion.
You rain your love and affection
On them all without distinction.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You have got a peculiar trait
Due to which you are very great.
You adopt the foreigners too,
Who like to live and die for you.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are beautiful, all perfect;
You are rich in every aspect.
In the ancient times, we have heard,
Aliens called you ‘a golden bird’
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
The mountains guard your honour here;
The ocean washes your feet there.
The rivers contain sweet water
Which for us is just like nectar.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Our culture is ancient and high,
We are respected that is why.
Culture has bound us by and by,
With a chain of pure love and tie.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men
Who are not loyal, but still then,
Pose as lovers of this nation,
Whom we do not like to mention.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men;
Fire of hatred they ever fan.
Freedom, we fear, may not be lost,
Which we have got at a great cost.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Let us be wise not to be tool
Of selfish powers which befool
Those who do not well understand
Their aim which is behind their stand.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We will be lucky, if we die
For you, O Gracious Country High!
We’ll give them a fitting reply,
Who see you with a slanting eye.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
poem by Aziz Ahmad
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Mother India
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are the paradise on earth
Where things are not in any dearth.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
In Your Lap live men and women
Of every caste and religion.
You rain your love and affection
On them all without distinction.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You have got a peculiar trait
Due to which you are very great.
You adopt the foreigners too,
Who like to live and die for you.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
You are beautiful, all perfect;
You are rich in every aspect.
In the ancient times, we have heard,
Aliens called you ‘a golden bird’
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
The mountains guard your honour here;
The ocean washes your feet there.
The rivers contain sweet water
Which for us is just like nectar.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Our culture is ancient and high,
We are respected that is why.
Culture has bound us by and by,
With a chain of pure love and tie.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men
Who are not loyal, but still then,
Pose as lovers of this nation,
Whom we do not like to mention.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We are sorry here live some men;
Fire of hatred they ever fan.
Freedom, we fear, may not be lost,
Which we have got at a great cost.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
Let us be wise not to be tool
Of selfish powers which befool
Those who do not well understand
Their aim which is behind their stand.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
We will be lucky, if we die
For you, O Gracious Country High!
We’ll give them a fitting reply,
Who see you with a slanting eye.
O Mother Land! O Mother Land!
You are very dear and rare land.
poem by Aziz Ahmad 'Aziz Moradabadi'
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The Pigeons Of St. Marks
Something's wrong in Pigeon-land;
'Tisn't as it used to be,
When the pilgrim, corn in hand,
Courted us with laughing glee;
When we crooned with pinions furled,
Tamest pigeons in the world.
When we packed each arm and shoulder,
Never deeming man a menace;
Surly birds were never bolder
Than our dainty doves of Venice:
Who would have believed a pigeon
Could become wild as a widgeon.
Well, juts blame it on the War,
When Venetians grew thinner,
And gaunt hands would grab us for
Succulence to serve a dinner . . .
How our numbers fast grew fewer,
As we perished on a skewer.
Pa and Mummie went like that,
So when tourist takes his stand,
On his Borsolino hat
Soft as whispered love I land;
Then with cooing liquid vowels
I . . . evacuate my bowls.
Something's wrong in Pigeon-land;
Mankind we no longer trust;
Shrinking from the tendered hand,
pick we corn from out the dust;
While on guileless pilgrim pate,
Thinking that revenge is sweet,
Soft I croon my hymn of hate,
Drop my tribute and retreat.
poem by Robert William Service
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I began to hate
I was born a righteous man
Just like you, I'm a loving man
When you stole my land from me
I began to hate
I began to hate
I began to hate you and your children
I began to hate you and your friends
I began to hate with a passion
Maybe I am simply old fashioned
I feed my kids multiple hate pills
Then send them down the road to kill
This is the message I want to instil
Hate
Hate without debate
Hate, Hate, Hate
Hate like the darkness
That resents the day
In the land you took away my wealth
Along with my loss went my health
How can a man learn to love and forgive
When you have not returned
What you were never meant to receive
So I began to hate
I began to hate
I began to hate you and your children
I began to hate you and your friends
My children are taught to hate
Obey questions without debate
With their last breathe they dedicate
A moment of hate
2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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The Monkeys
and after he cut the grasses
plowed the farm and planted
it all with corn
the monkeys simply watch
and keep on playing
on the branches of the trees,
and when
the corn grew and showed
their big ears and
golden hair,
there and then the monkeys
came and made their claim.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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Native Title
You are welcome to our country
When full respect is paid
To those who souls grew out from where
Their ancestors were laid
This land is our protector
This land our path in life
This land is our great comforter
This land is hurt by strife
Feel the heart that beats within it
As the seasons come and go
Feel the energy within it
From which everything does grow
This land will guide your footsteps
This land will feed you well
This land needs loving kindly
This land is not to sell
This land is just our country
This land is just our home
For its not just who owns this land
But whom this land does own.
poem by David Keig
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Corn is an efficient way to get energy calories off the land and soybeans are an efficient way of getting protein off the land, so we've designed a food system that produces a lot of cheap corn and soybeans resulting in a lot of cheap fast food.
quote by Michael Pollan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Toss and Grab 1,
Kept you under the wings,
for you to grow warmer,
kept away those strangers,
for you to grow stronger,
picked those worms,
for you to grow smarter,
opened these two wings,
for you to grow wiser.
This world belongs to you,
my dear children,
You have every right to explore,
my dear children,
There may be petty problems,
on the way, children!
smash those issues,
my dear children.
Make mistakes, that,
not affect your health,
my dear children,
Take decisions, that,
not affect your integrity,
my dear children.
Be kind to your subordinates,
my dear children,
they are the ladder,
for you to climb up,
my dear children.
Get wiser day by day,
my dear children,
Speculation is not a plays,
my dear children,
you will bring corn,
my dear children,
They will bring husk,
my dear children.
When blow and share,
my dear children,
You will lose my dear children.
When there is a sale,
the market is quiet
enter to trade,
my dear children.
When there is a crowd,
everyone talks for million,
sell your share and run away,
my dear children.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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With the onset of summer
With onset of summer
Mercury level begin to rise
With the onset of summer
Watermelon is ready to eat
With the onset of summer
My dear I insearch of you
To share delight and woe
It is the timeof litmus test
My dear in love and hatred
We must united.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Laughing Corn
There was a high majestic fooling
Day before yesterday in the yellow corn.
And day after to-morrow in the yellow corn
There will be high majestic fooling.
The ears ripen in late summer
And come on with a conquering laughter,
Come on with a high and conquering laughter.
The long-tailed blackbirds are hoarse.
One of the smaller blackbirds chitters on a stalk
And a spot of red is on its shoulder
And I never heard its name in my life.
Some of the ears are bursting.
A white juice works inside.
Cornsilk creeps in the end and dangles in the wind.
Always--I never knew it any other way--
The wind and the corn talk things over together.
And the rain and the corn and the sun and the corn
Talk things over together.
Over the road is the farmhouse.
The siding is white and a green blind is slung loose.
It will not be fixed till the corn is husked.
The farmer and his wife talk things over together.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Summer Dawn
Pray but one prayer for me 'twixt thy closed lips,
Think but one thought of me up in the stars.
The summer night waneth, the morning light slips,
Faint and grey 'twixt the leaves of the aspen, betwixt the cloud-bars
That are patiently waiting there for the dawn:
Patient and colourless, though Heaven's gold
Waits to float through them along with the sun.
Far out in the meadows, above the young corn,
The heavy elms wait, and restless and cold
The uneasy wind rises; the roses are dun;
Through the long twilight they pray for the dawn,
Round the lone house in the midst of the corn,
Speak but one word to me over the corn,
Over the tender, bow'd locks of the corn.
poem by William Morris
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Pray But One Prayer For Us
Pray but one prayer for me ’twixt thy closed lips,
Think but one thought of me up in the stars.
The summer night waneth, the morning light slips,
Faint and grey ’twixt the leaves of the aspen, betwixt the cloud-bars,
That are patiently waiting there for the dawn
Patient and colourless, though Heaven’s gold
Waits to float through them along with the sun.
Far out in the meadows, above the young corn,
The heavy elms wait, and restless and cold
The uneasy wind rises; the roses are dim;
Through the long twilight they pray for the dawn,
Round the lone house in the midst of the corn.
Speak but one word to me over the corn,
Over the tender, bow’d locks of the corn.
poem by William Morris
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Fields Of Fog
Driving on the same street over and over again, seems like a bad dream.
lands of fog blinds me to see the things that are passing through and the things that are in front of me. I look at the pedometer and I'm going almost a hundred miles per hour when I look up there is a dear, I couldn't slow down so I had to hit it, my car spins in to a corn field, when I get out, there is corn and fog all around me I looked up to the sky and and saw the moon.
poem by Melissa Schreuder
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Mr. Finney's Turnip
Mr. Finney had a turnip,
And it grew, and it grew,
And it grew behind the barn,
And the turnip did no harm.
And it grew, and it grew,
Till it could grow no taller;
Then Mr. Finney took it up
And put it in the cellar.
There it lay, there it lay,
Till it began to rot ;
When his daughter Susie washed it
And put it in the pot.
Then she boiled it and boiled it,
As long as she was able;
Then his daughter Susie took it
And put it on the table.
Mr. Finney and his wife
Both sat down to sup;
And they ate, and they ate,
Until they ate the turnip up.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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My Summer
my summer is boring
my summer is wake
my summer is harebell
my summer is stupid
my summer is in my sisters house
my summer is in a sweet 16 prates
my summer is in my cozens house
my summer is away from my house
my summer is just dome
my summer is boring
my summer is messing my men
my summer is the worst summer of my bf
i wish i was whet my men this summer
i wish i was happy in the summer.
my bday is in the summer
this summer is just this summer: (
poem by Jencelyn Marin
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