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"characterization" poems
They Call It Heresy, We Call It Genuine Science We designed the genes' primers, Ordered them along the oligomers. Our aim is an elaborate one, It involves molecular cloning, Sequence characterization, and Relative expression analysis of Bovine Trefoil Factors. Now we hope to clone the gene, The gene which is of a bovine origin, By extensive working hours input, And bearing in mind the risks, Of not getting the desired output, The possibility of failure always therein, But pregnancy, healing & immunity it's governing. Three types of trefoil factors there are, TFF1: It suppresses gastric carcinoma, And also helps in pregnancy, TFF2: Helps exclusively in cancer research, TFF3: Helps exclusively in pregnancy maintenance, And also our prime interest. After cloning the genes, We have to sequence them, And after characterization, We have to analyse them, After relative expression.
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Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC
Setup|Upset
Does it mean the same to me That it means to you? Is it your dreamland paradise? Can these dreams come true? Is it meeting your soulmate Or finally achieving your MBA? Maybe it is just staying sober And taking it day by day Is it a mood or a lifetime Or only a wonderland? Can it be Heaven on Earth? Does it have to be free of the ****** It is "The Promise Land", According to Webster's definition That's what we once called America, Have we maintained this characterization? "Fairytale-land" is one more synonym If this is true, let's use Disney's example Bitter stories with exuberant endings The possibilities are prepetual and ample Are we all living in our land of enchantment? Is Utopia what we create and decide? Can we have a miserable paradise If that's how we live in our minds? I've had so many hard times But if you ask I want you to know I only count the eminent in-betweens I only live in the moments that glow You only have one life to live So now you better decide Are you living in your Utopia? And is it what you visioned in your mind?
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Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 8:49 PM UTC
Utopia
Creating a character. Its perfect dialogue. Turn the page. Find out what's next. Read about his horrid past.. One that didn't last. Find out that you were wrong all along. That the hangovers don't last. And sobriety comes fast.
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
characterization
Sometimes strange things happen. In the afternoon mostly, after lunch and rest. Today in was the morning. A communist asked me " Did I know the difference between Chinese communism and Vietnamese communism"? To be honest..I did not. This is the first time I had been asked this question. A new experience. I sensed a passion, a desire for me to answer. We ascend from time-to-time. So I said " The characterization of the struggle" I put effort into this. Attention and love. Was the communist satisfied? I don't know But we all learn to do necessary things.
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 1:15 AM UTC
Conversations with the Communists
Your actions have reactions yet we don't know the hardships you don't speak of... I can't judge you and neither can anybody else. Though you may seem one way you probably think completely different... I don't know how you really feel and neither does anybody else. Let me apologize for characterization, stereotypes, discrimination, and prejudice for you are a human just like us. I'm not sure if you are what they say you are and neither is anybody else.
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Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 1:57 PM UTC
to the misunderstood
~ Gumby, Wood Woodpecker and Me ~ somewhere in the mother lode of a thousand poems scripted, lies a pen-pained tribulation, an old ode, to the taming of the shrew, the shock and awe of my new born, slept-on hair mode Ogdiddy, she says, rise up quick! thy self to the mirror dispatch, see what god hath wrought upon thy head this brand new morn blessed am I, at this late stage, in posses of a goodly and shocking amount of hair au naturel each of my body's parts has a mind of its own, my hairs, each one a different opinion and resultantly an amazing new creation born come dawn sometimes straight up like Gumby she quips, sometimes a shocking tail to one side in the style of one Woody Woodpecker, she mockingly cries! and on and on each daily a new cartoon characterization proposition, until one day in feigned wrath I do reply *just you wait Mrs. Higgins, just you wait, you will rue the day my do will be best described and descried by you as akin to that of one known as SpongeBob SquarePants*
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May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 9:01 AM UTC
Gumby, Wood Woodpecker and Me
A master of characterization After moments of gesticulation Your characters become universal Images play without dress rehearsal . First created, an idealistic knight, Who teaches the perfect techniques to fight. Next danced a lad of ladies' desire . Your words described me, "a lad of fire." A counterfeit nun pilgrimed with the bunch. She starved her dogs to have a second lunch, Yet, you viewed her as whimsical and tame. The way she faked, sung, and lied was a shame. Still, I know this false Prioress today, Characters such as this wont fade away. The Miller modeled your retched Scot. I too am Scottish, but retched I'm not! Though we don't always view the world as one, I have the faint soul of your pseudo son. I too would flirt with the strong Wife if Bath, And roam with the pilgrims down that God path. Master at comic irony, you are The church was corrupt, relics in a jar Or a pardon for an extorted fee. Friars with gifts for girls could not trick thee. Twenty four of one twenty were finished, But the affects will not be diminished. They say you're number two in history. For people like me, that's a mystery. In a quill duel between Shakespeare and you, You'd leap to number one, Shakespeare to two.
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Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 7:56 PM UTC
Geoffrey Chaucer Wins
She got a big ***** Yet, should I call her “big ***** To many, the implications of having a big ***** Contains a certain celestial-power value. When one generally conceptualizes a person Who has a big ***** one often associates The notion of a big ***** as a good characterization Of a human being. However, one must propose A remarkably simple question— Is having a big ***** a good characterization Of a human being? While considering this question, One must understand that the actual idea Of  “goodness” is simply undefinable. This is simply because one is unable To understand an idea without the use of the mind. As one may assume, a big ***** symbolizes strength And power. There is something objectively cerebral That pushes a big ***** into existence. One must note that a big ***** Is a sense of action.
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Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 9:29 PM UTC
Implications
The world is full of gray people Who have a difficult definition They’re hard to paint a portrait of And don’t last long in pictures Because They can’t sit still for long They aren’t an illustration From a children’s book Because They lack the color They haven’t got a green Nor red. Nor blue. Nor yellow. They’re not a black and white comic One that can be easily understood By all For that they lack legibility They are gray You can’t find them in a picture book Because They have too many chapters All words No pictures Vague words With multiple meanings Similes and metaphors Symbols and motifs Characterization That still leaves them Incomplete
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Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 1:49 AM UTC
The Gray People
The museum feels like heaven, feels like I could walk into the corner Pollack and the indiscriminate Monet, but there’s the characterization of Thomas Kane and you hate Mondays security guard. The man with a beard followed me all the way from the Impressionist room to the modern films and when he finally made me lift my eyes from the canvas, his were turquoise and shook me awake. I kept running up the stairs because I finally found out where they keep the hidden garden with the spiraled copper fountain and I laughed when I found my reflection in the Italian enamel. You fell asleep with your head on my knees. The weight of your skull was alarmingly heavy, so I played with your hair until you woke up. The moment of recognition on your face was so human I wanted to cry. You scrunch up your eyebrows and touch your glasses trying to remember and a tiny echo of a perfect smile plays on your lips. You kiss me exactly and hum along. You carried a contraband white umbrella into the gallery so we hid it under a desk. Your helmet was still blank so I gave you some concept art. Your languid loss of service as a multitude of goodbyes allow me to kiss your forehead right as your thoughts hit the pillow. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I understand why you tuck me into a warmer blanket before you leave for work in the morning with your heavy boots and your thermos and let me sleep while you shower and kiss me awake for breakfast with a cup of coffee in hand.
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Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 11:55 PM UTC
Asleep On the Couch
The museum feels like heaven, feels like I could walk into the corner Pollack and the indiscriminate Monet, but there’s the characterization of Thomas Kane and you hate Mondays security guard. The man with a beard followed me all the way from the Impressionist room to the modern films and when he finally made me lift my eyes from the canvas, his were turquoise and shook me awake. I kept running up the stairs because I finally found out where they keep the hidden garden with the spiraled copper fountain and I laughed when I found my reflection in the Italian enamel. You fell asleep with your head on my knees. The weight of your skull was alarmingly heavy, so I played with your hair until you woke up. The moment of recognition on your face was so human I wanted to cry. You scrunch up your eyebrows and touch your glasses trying to remember and a tiny echo of a perfect smile plays on your lips. You kiss me exactly and hum along. You carried a contraband white umbrella into the gallery so we hid it under a desk. Your helmet was still blank so I gave you some concept art. Your languid loss of service as a multitude of goodbyes allow me to kiss your forehead right as your thoughts hit the pillow. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I understand why you tuck me into a warmer blanket before you leave for work in the morning with your heavy boots and your thermos and let me sleep while you shower and kiss me awake for breakfast with a cup of coffee in hand.
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8
Never had I seen such beauty like yours, Such a worthwhile smile that shapes me like a file. Never had I seen such wit as yours, Such a rightful judge to the cruel misrule. Never had I seen such persona, with playfulness, reasonableness, uprightness, and inquisitiveness. Never had I seen perfection, the quintessential condensation of all great characterization, in balance with my imperfection. Yet it is only wise to appreciate you with my eyes, as my body is apprehended by the past, the future, the time, and the agony. The life I've experienced has taught me that love is futile, served with sadness and unhappiness and dolefulness with a side of temporary blissfulness. The idea of success impedes me from obtaining happiness, from settling for ‘less’ and portray a smile nevertheless. Warped by expectation, limitation, and exploitation, time isn't sufficient to provide you with my fixation, affectation, and ministration. Sustainability I cannot devise for when I witness your brown eyes, brown like earth, which with the kiss of rain and the seed of love can allow the flourish of life and euphoria never dreamed of. My heart accelerates uncontrollably, approaching me to a heart attack of which I'm never coming back. I suffocate as you leave me breathless, yet you suppress my stress and hopelessness. I so wish to warm your hand while wrapping around your arm. I so wish to embrace you in my arms and promise you safety for eternity. I so wish to feel your lips and your hips, never letting go until the last grasp of my fingertips. I so wish to stare at the stars to your side, while I admire your eyes, hoping that our love never dies. But being with you is an impossibility, in addition to an atrocity. Separated by time, a history, and personalities, war would form and never end in peace, For my peasantry doesn't deserve your royalty, For my filthiness shan't nudge your pureness, For my darkness can't cohere with your brightness. I'd be put to trial for the exile of your smile, the most intact of the wonders of the world that would now be purled. I wish I could love you but never will I deserve you, Never will we be together, for we would be an incompatible tether. I wish I could be with you but it is true that we are through, Never shall our past be repeated, for it won't be greeted, but rather maltreated. I wish I could but I've understood from our childhood where I stood and where I stand, Never will I know, if I were… with you, know where it would lead to.
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Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC
Never
Never had I seen such beauty like yours, Such a worthwhile smile that shapes me like a file. Never had I seen such wit as yours, Such a rightful judge to the cruel misrule. Never had I seen such persona, with playfulness, reasonableness, uprightness, and inquisitiveness. Never had I seen perfection, the quintessential condensation of all great characterization, in balance with my imperfection. Yet it is only wise to appreciate you with my eyes, as my body is apprehended by the past, the future, the time, and the agony. The life I've experienced has taught me that love is futile, served with sadness and unhappiness and dolefulness with a side of temporary blissfulness. The idea of success impedes me from obtaining happiness, from settling for ‘less’ and portray a smile nevertheless. Warped by expectation, limitation, and exploitation, time isn't sufficient to provide you with my fixation, affectation, and ministration. Sustainability I cannot devise for when I witness your brown eyes, brown like earth, which with the kiss of rain and the seed of love can allow the flourish of life and euphoria never dreamed of. My heart accelerates uncontrollably, approaching me to a heart attack of which I'm never coming back. I suffocate as you leave me breathless, yet you suppress my stress and hopelessness. I so wish to warm your hand while wrapping around your arm. I so wish to embrace you in my arms and promise you safety for eternity. I so wish to feel your lips and your hips, never letting go until the last grasp of my fingertips. I so wish to stare at the stars to your side, while I admire your eyes, hoping that our love never dies. But being with you is an impossibility, in addition to an atrocity. Separated by time, a history, and personalities, war would form and never end in peace, For my peasantry doesn't deserve your royalty, For my filthiness shan't nudge your pureness, For my darkness can't cohere with your brightness. I'd be put to trial for the exile of your smile, the most intact of the wonders of the world that would now be purled. I wish I could love you but never will I deserve you, Never will we be together, for we would be an incompatible tether. I wish I could be with you but it is true that we are through, Never shall our past be repeated, for it won't be greeted, but rather maltreated. I wish I could but I've understood from our childhood where I stood and where I stand, Never will I know, if I were… with you, know where it would lead to.
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29
-A gush more like an abundance of beautiful characterization evolves from your peach filled spirit. Its a vibrant resonance of bittersweet, soft,cool,bold,direct enunciation your love is worthy but your love comes never second to irrelevant bull****. Your a woman of great power, massive abilities your words flow deep deep within the veins of your soul those of which are never familiar of holding grudges. The golden shimmered but supple sweetness of your complexion has the ability to magnetize many eyes minds and souls keeping people glued like admiring an art sculpture. Full lips absolute and unimpaired for the perfect man to endow appreciate and adore. Daredevil at hand never depending on another woman or man's hand. Spirit insignificant never to be compared nor related to another spirit that is not as lively as yours. Majestry is what I call your elegance, your aura a sweet epiphany fantasizing about you because you never limit yourself you are indeed the shit. Your strength is astounding, although we've grown you are the feminine work of art, a soulmate I will never lose in spirit, the feeling ia stagnant I must be near you your laugh will always be a symmetrical rescue to my mental state of mind.
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Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 7:46 PM UTC
Lee
A man with passion for the Hound It was travels anywhere bound But its that trademark racing hound Some say I am an enthused Bus Nut But their characterization of me is well put State to state in only the hound can relate A true heart that doesn’t hesitate The thought of a bus Yet it is the scenery being an absolute must A friendly hand at the wheel The relaxed comfort zone in how the passengers feel The hound’s mission, “A REASON TO RIDE” The sleek look in what the hound provides But the hound’s enthusiasm goes even further My own bus collection preservation that would amaze It’s the enjoyment of motor coaches being a praise The hound has strived from years before Bus travel is for all too explore The plane flies high above The train travels in ward with speed to think of The hound bringing scenery up close and personal The love for man’s best friend Pure togetherness until the end Houndman Cometh who has arrived That name being the stride But what’s in that name? Pure commitment being total aim Feeling inspired without any blame Moving along with a feeling in knowing where Houndman Cometh belongs This is what keeps the love for buses strong It was the Hound and Houndman taking you all for a ride A short moment like a rolling tide but strong attention in provide.
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Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
HOUNDMAN COMETH
Scouting the Score Afar, covertly appreciating the assets of the temple branded with features such as long shapely legs and wicked curves making any true man dribble wanting to acquire this monument of exquisite art to selfishly possess and enhance one’s characterization Planning the Score Cleverly surmised strategies and counter-strategies render thoughts using skilled experiences from past wars of this art however, this is no trivial game or any haphazard endeavor but perhaps an outline to the fulfillment of one’s epic story written in devotion and nurturing love that is God’s glory Executing the Score Introducing ego into the circumstances of the score to facilitate the acknowledgement of a new presence only to find uncertainty and chaos ruling the conditions with all the carefully laid plans losing their merit and vigor to become a fly trapped in this spider web of emotions Finalizing the Score No longer controlling one’s destiny to possess the score as these unknown perceptions warped logic and reality like the event horizon of a massive blackhole in space causing a blissful instability in the sanity of character thus, becoming the victim, master, or devoted partner.
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Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 11:21 AM UTC
Art of Love?
The regular usage of certain adjectives has diminished the fortitude to which they are entitled But I have found some things that have taught me their true meaning and merit their characterization For instance, One ought to reserve "breathtaking" to describe the sunflower field that I ran to, laughing, with friends bursting with joyful yellows and grounding greens as far as the eye can see reaching, yearning for the light One ought to reserve "incredible" to describe the dance between the sky and the river so beautiful that it truly is difficult to believe the way the sky looks like a painting brushed by the passion of an artist and the way it is reflected by the river which adds a twinkle as the water waltzes to and fro One ought to reserve "awesome" to describe the bustling city that has beauty and history tucked into every corner and that positively sparkles in the nighttime the city in which you have no control over the smile that makes a home on your face and the way your eyes hurry to take it all in Je suis contente que j'ai appris le sens de ces beaux mots et que j'ai eu des moments vraiment magnifiques
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Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 4:26 PM UTC
Thoughts from France
No, I was in the play.  I didn’t like it. The plot, setting, and characterization Were all wrong, and the clumsy denouement   Was poorly written and acted.                                                            “Macbeth.” War profiteers from John Wayne to Ken Burns Have claimed my illegal war for their own "Hell hath no fury like a non-combatant"   Beyond that, the VA is ashamed of me So, thanks, but no. I'm good.  Bitter, but good For I was in the play.  I didn’t like it.
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Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 3:10 PM UTC
"Have You Seen Ken Burns' Latest Television Show?"