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"technique" poems
Municipal Gum was written by Oodjeroo Noonecaal. Municipal Gum is about the changes in society and the tendency of people to want to control everything. Oodjeroo uses various techniques to convey this idea. At the beginning of the poem Oodjeroo is addressing the tree. This immediately creates empathy for both the tree and her people. By the last line she has emphasised this with the pronoun “us” to show that they suffer a similar fate. This poem expresses how life in Australia has changes especially for Aboriginal people. In the first half of the poem Oodjeroo is talking about how life was for her and others. It explores the changes in society and the displacement of the Aboriginal people from their land. “Whose head hung…Its hopelessness”, the author uses this as further re-iteration of the immorality of the situation and by the use of analogy comparing the tree to her people to further emphasise the shame and lack control of that the Europeans have inflicted upon her and the environment. Oodjeroo uses extended metaphor technique in the very first line of the poem ‘Hard bitumen around your feet’. This means that the gumtree has been placed in the city scape where it is suppressed and not allowed to spread out and be unique in its own way. This is clear and immanently direct link to the pain and suffering endured by the Aborigines post European settlement. Oodjeroo uses vivid language to present these ideas. For example the use of the word castrated is very effective. The connotation of the word is very demeaning. With castration often comes a sense of a loss of pride and power. The word castration is symbolic of how Oodjeroo feels the European have treated Aboriginal people and the environment. Castration also refers to the fact that what is done is done. Nothing can undo what they did and the damaged they have caused. Other symbolism includes the title “Municipal Gum”, municipal meaning community, implies that the gumtree belongs to the community. One of the vast differences between European and Aboriginal law is that Aboriginal people did not believe in the ownership of land or of animals and plants. Municipal Gum is a reference to the Europeans assumptions that everything is theirs to own and control. The rhetorical question, “O fellow citizen, What have they done to us?” is the conclusion of the implications that have been made throughout the poem. Oodjeroo, is advocating for her people and all things wronged by the controlling behaviour of the Europeans. Rhetorical questions are used to provoke thought and to stimulate a pre-determined response. “What have they done to us?” They have “castrated, broken… strapped and buckled” and ultimately changed things to a point that they cannot be fixed. In conclusion, Municipal Gum is a poem about the constrictions and change that the European invaders forced upon the Aboriginal community and the environment she believes that the Europeans have deemed themselves ever powerful and practice their power in a manner that is immoral.
0
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 7:47 AM UTC
Municipal Gum
Municipal Gum was written by Oodjeroo Noonecaal. Municipal Gum is about the changes in society and the tendency of people to want to control everything. Oodjeroo uses various techniques to convey this idea. At the beginning of the poem Oodjeroo is addressing the tree. This immediately creates empathy for both the tree and her people. By the last line she has emphasised this with the pronoun “us” to show that they suffer a similar fate. This poem expresses how life in Australia has changes especially for Aboriginal people. In the first half of the poem Oodjeroo is talking about how life was for her and others. It explores the changes in society and the displacement of the Aboriginal people from their land. “Whose head hung…Its hopelessness”, the author uses this as further re-iteration of the immorality of the situation and by the use of analogy comparing the tree to her people to further emphasise the shame and lack control of that the Europeans have inflicted upon her and the environment. Oodjeroo uses extended metaphor technique in the very first line of the poem ‘Hard bitumen around your feet’. This means that the gumtree has been placed in the city scape where it is suppressed and not allowed to spread out and be unique in its own way. This is clear and immanently direct link to the pain and suffering endured by the Aborigines post European settlement. Oodjeroo uses vivid language to present these ideas. For example the use of the word castrated is very effective. The connotation of the word is very demeaning. With castration often comes a sense of a loss of pride and power. The word castration is symbolic of how Oodjeroo feels the European have treated Aboriginal people and the environment. Castration also refers to the fact that what is done is done. Nothing can undo what they did and the damaged they have caused. Other symbolism includes the title “Municipal Gum”, municipal meaning community, implies that the gumtree belongs to the community. One of the vast differences between European and Aboriginal law is that Aboriginal people did not believe in the ownership of land or of animals and plants. Municipal Gum is a reference to the Europeans assumptions that everything is theirs to own and control. The rhetorical question, “O fellow citizen, What have they done to us?” is the conclusion of the implications that have been made throughout the poem. Oodjeroo, is advocating for her people and all things wronged by the controlling behaviour of the Europeans. Rhetorical questions are used to provoke thought and to stimulate a pre-determined response. “What have they done to us?” They have “castrated, broken… strapped and buckled” and ultimately changed things to a point that they cannot be fixed. In conclusion, Municipal Gum is a poem about the constrictions and change that the European invaders forced upon the Aboriginal community and the environment she believes that the Europeans have deemed themselves ever powerful and practice their power in a manner that is immoral.
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9
I am quick to cry and to anger and people think I'm strange. They don't see how hard I try to control it, I know I'm seen as deranged. Emotions can be overbearing and it's difficult to stay quiet when someone upsets me It's simply not easy to hide it. I guessed for a long time that the issue was with me. But I thought I could watch maybe learn their technique. For keeping a cool head when things get heated. Instead of losing it over nothing and feeling totally defeated. I was wrong it turned out. I don't have breaks I have border as in borderline personality disorder. I got a diagnosis and was incredibly afraid that people would treat me like someone who'd contracted the plague. While I wasn't right, I wasn't totally wrong, mental illness is unfortunately still mostly ignored. If I was unwell with a headache, people would ask 'Are you okay?' 'Here I've got Panadol Actifast.' But when the ills In the mind and I say 'I'm feeling down' 9 times out of 10 people get freaked out. So it's tough when you're shamed For having a disorder A lot of normal people suffer So could your son or daughter. So next time you hear someone say 'I'm feeling down.' Do me one favour and please, just don't freak out. It's hard enough already dealing with this day to day without having friends turn their backs and walk away.
0
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
BPD
Being a coach is hard Winning isn't everything It all stats during practice Arrive early to prep for the team The ones who want it show up on time want it The best players show up late Running bases conditioning for the game Batting cages to help with the swing Playing catch helping the team work as a unit Till the day of the big game Slide to the base with technique practiced Cutoff play to make an out Team functions without doubt Play hard play right win or loss giving it your all Coach does right by the team no need to fight Lets win and take the season play and do What the team does best play softball
0
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 12:22 AM UTC
Softball
You Are the Texture ………………………… **~ for all of you, you, you poet~** Impasto “**is a technique used in painting, where paint is laid on an area of the surface thickly, usually thick enough that the brush or  painting- knife strokes are visible. Paint can also be mixed right on to the canvas. When dry, impasto provides texture; the paint appears as if, to be coming out of the canvas.**” <1:47pm> Cut & Paste *is a technique used in poetry writing, we refer back to our visions, heard words, the eyeful, the earful, scents, the reads read, all in the mind’s palette blended, thickly, but when the merging fused, every word~in~coloration, it is unique, reincarnation, copying impossible. The imagery, cut and pasted from thy heart and soul, upon canvas, your poems~pieces each appear* ***as you-are-texture, you becoming out of, you, the canvas. <2:04pm> Postscript*** ……………… it is not lost on me that the scars, our words, herein, as we note all too frequently, almost casually, are, can be, those selfsame words/painting-knife employed for our first and foremost canvas we utilize, ourselves… our bodies, our very selves salved
0
Jun 24, 2023
Jun 24, 2023 at 8:06 AM UTC
Impasto vs. Cut & Paste: You Are the Texture
VIOLENCE, Nothing is as beautiful and as disgusting To see MEN and WOMEN strike and grapple on UFC is wonderful leaving everything they have out there with respect only their technique and skill to speak for them in the name of martial arts To see "men" and "women" scrap and stomp on worldstar is sickening leaving no downed alone,no honor nor respect only their cowardice and anger speak for them in the name of Violence.
0
Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
Violence
Replaying a riff four times perfectly One missed fret and the entire day ends disastrously Replaying moments of kindness and warmth To overcome the feverish idea that I hold no heart Every fourth step, threes end in ****** Maimed images constantly creep This subconscious ludovico technique These thoughts come and go in no particular order A seat at the table and a serviette on my lap What if I leapt out my chair and suddenly attacked? What if I aimed the knife towards my hand? I constantly question if that’s who I am I will have a picnic with her today, all joy and cheer When these intrusive thoughts will inexplicably get near And terrorize my attitude as well as my image Disassociating with a perplexed and horrified visage I’m so incredibly tired of existing A cruel and ironic fate I’ve missed out on so many opportunities All because of this miserable headspace
0
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 1:05 PM UTC
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
tech is tech of technology tech is tech of tech technique is a tech of technique technique is a tech of technology technology is a past of technique technology is a past of technology tech is past technology past technology is past tech past tech is tech of technology past tech is tech of technique technique is a hair of technique technique is a hair of technology technique is a hair of a past tech technique technique is a past tech of technique tech is a hair of tech tech is a hair of technology tech is a hair of technique technology is a hair of technology technique equal technique technology versus technology technique versus technology
0
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 2:00 PM UTC
a hair technology
I  just don't understand why so many Guitarists, and moreover Musicians, so disdain drop tunings; Just because that technique may well differ from yours does not necessarily mean either is inherently inferior.
0
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 11:02 AM UTC
Stylistic Diversity [Drop Tuning]
complexity bias how you love to criticize my poems as too long and overly complex poor me, I’m no genius, don’t prosper by exploiting unrecognized simplicities, rather deconstruct the intricate complexities that I flatter myself are the me-sinews Writing is a **** temptation - we focus on the 10% that is complex and ignore the easy 90% perhaps this once I will surrender my bare bones put aside the rich, satisfying of cave diving, urban spelunking word caressing tongue verbiage rich tapestry exploring - give you the plane of plain where nestles my destiny: nesting near motionless where the couch is my kingdom and cold cereal is easily digested and there are no consequences I am a member of a discriminated-against minority we have no charismatic leader, no marchers anywhere, and government programs say hey you’re free white and twenty one plus, get the crap out of our faces,  you useless piece of rhymes with **** and includes dirt, though I shower twice a day to keep myself occupied 25 years old, a high school dropout, of course I’m white, my occupation is playing video games and making sure my supply of opioids is adequate in these great United States where I was born there are fewer jobs than none that my application survives a first glance discardation, and now my disability preempts any demand to pretend there is gainful employment in store in my future this reductio ad absurdum is a technique to expose the fallacy, ah what’s that you say no interest in hanging about, on your way out, of course, of course, we are the wrong flavor of downtrodden my life is simple - simplistic in its a chaotic entropic way, order slowly declines into disorder my rituals are a fight against slip sliding down, falling off the the Herzog continuums and the poems are desperate hand holds to prevent my going, gone under so forgive me if I tax you without possessing not the requisite taxing authority you hone in on the obvious disparities and my contradictions resenting my sending you this bill of extravagant length compose with me and a mean will be located and to sleep I go, perhaps to undress my dreams and explicate the wealthy multiples of complexity in the simplicity of a junkies life
0
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
complexity bias of a ******
complexity bias how you love to criticize my poems as too long and overly complex poor me, I’m no genius, don’t prosper by exploiting unrecognized simplicities, rather deconstruct the intricate complexities that I flatter myself are the me-sinews Writing is a **** temptation - we focus on the 10% that is complex and ignore the easy 90% perhaps this once I will surrender my bare bones put aside the rich, satisfying of cave diving, urban spelunking word caressing tongue verbiage rich tapestry exploring - give you the plane of plain where nestles my destiny: nesting near motionless where the couch is my kingdom and cold cereal is easily digested and there are no consequences I am a member of a discriminated-against minority we have no charismatic leader, no marchers anywhere, and government programs say hey you’re free white and twenty one plus, get the crap out of our faces,  you useless piece of rhymes with **** and includes dirt, though I shower twice a day to keep myself occupied 25 years old, a high school dropout, of course I’m white, my occupation is playing video games and making sure my supply of opioids is adequate in these great United States where I was born there are fewer jobs than none that my application survives a first glance discardation, and now my disability preempts any demand to pretend there is gainful employment in store in my future this reductio ad absurdum is a technique to expose the fallacy, ah what’s that you say no interest in hanging about, on your way out, of course, of course, we are the wrong flavor of downtrodden my life is simple - simplistic in its a chaotic entropic way, order slowly declines into disorder my rituals are a fight against slip sliding down, falling off the the Herzog continuums and the poems are desperate hand holds to prevent my going, gone under so forgive me if I tax you without possessing not the requisite taxing authority you hone in on the obvious disparities and my contradictions resenting my sending you this bill of extravagant length compose with me and a mean will be located and to sleep I go, perhaps to undress my dreams and explicate the wealthy multiples of complexity in the simplicity of a junkies life
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41
Technique of tortures Cast iron pain Crushing blow to the head Insanity created picture
0
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
Cast iron pain
The robotic surgeon didn't blink Smoke, swear, or fool around; He was the newest design of science His metal feet firmly on the ground. Robotic surgery was the latest Improvement over the manual kind There were no variations in technique; No reliance on flaky mind. He was diligent and precise Cutting flesh to invisible templates; He never erred and he never missed Never once paused, to vacillate. Trusted beyond the regular surgeon, Using his fragile, shaking hands; The robotic surgeon could do anything Because he wasn't just a man. The newest miracle of science was hailed As the end, to the older style; But one day the program blew a fuse- And he cut her head off, by a mile.
0
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 8:20 AM UTC
The Robotic Surgeon
Is it really this hard to find people I can go back and forth in discussion with about Buddhist and Hindu theology compared and contrasted against Christian and Yoruba I want to scream and shout and dance with somebody over Janet Jackson's new album and at the same time feel the heat and talk with somebody about how extremely sad and depressing but oh so good Giovanni's Room was I want to be able to speak with somebody whom can quote Malcolm X and Kafka in the same breath Somebody who could see the logic of Pac and Immortal Technique on the same piece with the Budos Band or Mulatu on the back track I want to know people whom know just exactly who Suki Lee and Bayard Rustin are can we talk about Jacob Kinohoor's *** at least for a moment then get into some B.B. King or Johnny Cash have you seen Dune the one from the eighties James McAvoy shirtless as well as John Goodman’s acting were only good things about the other if you read it even better what about the ***** that sat by the door Or killer clowns from outer space let's be shady and point out all the inaccuracies on the history and discovery and channels praying for that day that's not in February They show Shaka Zulu in full without commercial interruption Or maybe a documentary about native American people with actual native actors that do not depict them all as either plains people Or Inuit Cause you already know not everybody is Eskimo then let's put on our own private production of legally blonde followed by encore presentations of the classic scene Of Miss Celie and miss Ofelia going in over Harpo can I discuss with you how the Patriot act nullifies everything in constitution And the bill of rights even though they never were intended to be permanent any way It would be nice to not have to explain a Corporatocracy all my life Ive been into Egyptology You do know that Imhotep was the actual founder of medicine by a good 2000 years not that Hippocrat the thing is I'm still learning when attempt to delve that deeply into people which I don't even consider that deep They often misunderstand They often concluded without thinking maybe just maybe ©Christopher F. Brown 2015
0
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
I'm not trying to **** I'm trying to see you in 3D
Is it really this hard to find people I can go back and forth in discussion with about Buddhist and Hindu theology compared and contrasted against Christian and Yoruba I want to scream and shout and dance with somebody over Janet Jackson's new album and at the same time feel the heat and talk with somebody about how extremely sad and depressing but oh so good Giovanni's Room was I want to be able to speak with somebody whom can quote Malcolm X and Kafka in the same breath Somebody who could see the logic of Pac and Immortal Technique on the same piece with the Budos Band or Mulatu on the back track I want to know people whom know just exactly who Suki Lee and Bayard Rustin are can we talk about Jacob Kinohoor's *** at least for a moment then get into some B.B. King or Johnny Cash have you seen Dune the one from the eighties James McAvoy shirtless as well as John Goodman’s acting were only good things about the other if you read it even better what about the ***** that sat by the door Or killer clowns from outer space let's be shady and point out all the inaccuracies on the history and discovery and channels praying for that day that's not in February They show Shaka Zulu in full without commercial interruption Or maybe a documentary about native American people with actual native actors that do not depict them all as either plains people Or Inuit Cause you already know not everybody is Eskimo then let's put on our own private production of legally blonde followed by encore presentations of the classic scene Of Miss Celie and miss Ofelia going in over Harpo can I discuss with you how the Patriot act nullifies everything in constitution And the bill of rights even though they never were intended to be permanent any way It would be nice to not have to explain a Corporatocracy all my life Ive been into Egyptology You do know that Imhotep was the actual founder of medicine by a good 2000 years not that Hippocrat the thing is I'm still learning when attempt to delve that deeply into people which I don't even consider that deep They often misunderstand They often concluded without thinking maybe just maybe ©Christopher F. Brown 2015
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59
the only thing i truly seek, is a way to be my own kind of unique. the things i think, the way i speak, all contribute, to being unique. my own style, my own technique, my own way, to be unique.
0
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 2:05 AM UTC
unique.
Preventing contamination, A constant challenge in cell culture. Contamination not only affects, The culture in question and, Costs time and money, But also endangers the reproducibility of results. No cell culture problem, Is as universal as that of culture loss Due to contamination. Generally, contamination may be separated, Into categories of microbial, And eukaryotic contamination. Examples of microbial contamination include: Bacteria (including Mycoplasma), Fungi and yeast; Eukaryotic contamination includes: Cross-contamination with other cell lines. Bacteria, yeast and fungi, The three more common types of contamination, But luckily these forms are often detectable, Under the microscope and, By visual cues, Like colour or turbidity changes in the medium. Mycoplasma is a small genus of bacteria, That lack a cell wall and for this reason, They remain unaffected by common antibiotics. They are also difficult to detect, With standard microscopes, Due to their size, about 0.1 μm in diameter, And the fact that they often attach to host cells. To prevent contamination, Use 70% ethanol for disinfecting, Equipment & surfaces, Related to cell culture. Sterile filter the media first, Before bringing to the lab. Fetal Bovine Serum, A potential source of contamination, Contains mycoplasma. Filter it at 0.1 μm, or, Gamma irradiate it. Aseptic technique, Necessary. The laboratory workers be the last, But not the least source of contamination. Teach them the ideal laboratory practices, To ensure asepticity in a laboratory.
0
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 9:02 PM UTC
Microbial Contamination & Ways of Preventing It
Preventing contamination, A constant challenge in cell culture. Contamination not only affects, The culture in question and, Costs time and money, But also endangers the reproducibility of results. No cell culture problem, Is as universal as that of culture loss Due to contamination. Generally, contamination may be separated, Into categories of microbial, And eukaryotic contamination. Examples of microbial contamination include: Bacteria (including Mycoplasma), Fungi and yeast; Eukaryotic contamination includes: Cross-contamination with other cell lines. Bacteria, yeast and fungi, The three more common types of contamination, But luckily these forms are often detectable, Under the microscope and, By visual cues, Like colour or turbidity changes in the medium. Mycoplasma is a small genus of bacteria, That lack a cell wall and for this reason, They remain unaffected by common antibiotics. They are also difficult to detect, With standard microscopes, Due to their size, about 0.1 μm in diameter, And the fact that they often attach to host cells. To prevent contamination, Use 70% ethanol for disinfecting, Equipment & surfaces, Related to cell culture. Sterile filter the media first, Before bringing to the lab. Fetal Bovine Serum, A potential source of contamination, Contains mycoplasma. Filter it at 0.1 μm, or, Gamma irradiate it. Aseptic technique, Necessary. The laboratory workers be the last, But not the least source of contamination. Teach them the ideal laboratory practices, To ensure asepticity in a laboratory.
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47
she gave me her cell #, in a crowded bar inked upon my forearm, "in case in my drunkness, I dare forget," a common come-on technique, that reeks of all good things to come but I failed to see, in the little letters, "@ your own peril" a warning, poorly heeded, inflaming my now unimaginable needy neededs, just a **** come on, or a warring warning of tumult, vampirish blood ******* with cautious haste, her number I did paste into my contact list, 'in case of loss, call,' when sudden notifications galore, came unbidden from everywhere: Are you really sure? these digits seems were posted on a Do Not Call list, maintained by monks and bro's, no, no, not a list of what-rhymes-with-bro's, but of fallen angels, who knew the secrets of heaven the price extracted for their revealing, could cause you life long arthritis of the heart, per the Surgeon General, for which the only cure, endure, endure, endure... the prize? endless wonderful new poems, freely given, but with one strictest of restrictions, if published, it meant your slow extinction! *that is why the world calls me Poet of the Way, forever trying to find a way, to away these treasured glories* then one day, he laughed and laughed, when he first he read the magic key, your poem, successfully saved *on Hello Poetry!* and now the poet endures, even possibly, self-saved, quite happily
0
Sep 4, 2017
Sep 4, 2017 at 7:30 AM UTC
she gave me her cell #
Instant messages from the multiverse Rhyming verses of deliverance A four-line limerick Spoken with just an utterance.    Words I needed to hear Words spoken so casually, when I am so unnaturally, irrationally Unsure of anything Instant messages from the multiverse I need to emphasize Some are heavy, some are light Some come like thieves in the night Some come so unexpectedly I hope they treat me gently Whatever their intent be My emotions are raw Or is it just a slow thaw I really don’t know, but I’m wise to their game I’m not a fool for their pain Not addicted to the synchronicities And don’t take it personally Still How do they know Just what to say How do they know? Just the same I’m wise to their game. I’m a gypsy telling fortunes I’m a seer telling lies, but Nobody, no nobody Knows what I see in your eyes When my need for you is more than I can bear I turn on the radio, just to hear Instant messages from the multiverse Only I was meant to hear Conducting the orchestra with an uncanny flair I tune to your frequency to always keep you near And fast forward when they’re saying something,   I don’t want to hear. I’m wise to their games This love path is not for the meek A game of hide and seek Isn’t there some other way A formula, a technique It is in this way That I get through the day And that medley of love songs Well, they’re just foreplay. Are we on the same frequency? Creating beautiful melodies. A symphony of many notes Half notes, whole notes Blue notes too. Don’t ever lose the love notes sent from me to you
0
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 12:00 PM UTC
Frequency
Instant messages from the multiverse Rhyming verses of deliverance A four-line limerick Spoken with just an utterance.    Words I needed to hear Words spoken so casually, when I am so unnaturally, irrationally Unsure of anything Instant messages from the multiverse I need to emphasize Some are heavy, some are light Some come like thieves in the night Some come so unexpectedly I hope they treat me gently Whatever their intent be My emotions are raw Or is it just a slow thaw I really don’t know, but I’m wise to their game I’m not a fool for their pain Not addicted to the synchronicities And don’t take it personally Still How do they know Just what to say How do they know? Just the same I’m wise to their game. I’m a gypsy telling fortunes I’m a seer telling lies, but Nobody, no nobody Knows what I see in your eyes When my need for you is more than I can bear I turn on the radio, just to hear Instant messages from the multiverse Only I was meant to hear Conducting the orchestra with an uncanny flair I tune to your frequency to always keep you near And fast forward when they’re saying something,   I don’t want to hear. I’m wise to their games This love path is not for the meek A game of hide and seek Isn’t there some other way A formula, a technique It is in this way That I get through the day And that medley of love songs Well, they’re just foreplay. Are we on the same frequency? Creating beautiful melodies. A symphony of many notes Half notes, whole notes Blue notes too. Don’t ever lose the love notes sent from me to you
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55
The first buffalo IVFed in India, And the world is named Pratham. It was produced by Hand-Guided Cloning technique, By the Animal Biotechnology scientists here at NDRI. High precision was not enough, 100% accuracy was the need here. But now they have developed techniques using micromanipulator, Still it requires expertise and it's only a tad bit convenient & easier. The youngest cloned buffalo born is named Rajat, It is both alive since July 23, 2014 and also kickin' its keepers.
0
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 5:42 AM UTC
Reproductive Biotechnology Sparkles
Kiss you low..Here I go Communicate soul to soul Touch is magic watch me grow Lick for lick blow for blow Open up to this kiss Introduction to poetic bliss I'm a G...I won't miss Mark it off your bucket list M.A.N not a boy Ignorance I will destroy Mastermind what's the ploy? Sauce you up just like soy Eat you up munch you down Parade you pretty around town Wicked doesn't need a crown Whimper when I eat you bound Rub you wet...Rub you wet..like a wish I'm gonna get Oh so wet..Oh so wet..love it when you ready set Enter thighs feel my rise Stroke..Choke..steady and wise Get that prize..Get that prize..No words needed can read your eyes Hold it...ugh..hold it some more...on the bed then to the floor Against the wall..through backdoor..on a sacred tantric tour Feel me guide..as you ride..inside feel me slip and slide Hit it wide..technique applied..what is needed I shall provide Feel the quake..legs will shake..more than love we will make What awakes? From pounding stake..squirting till no more can take Still we go..beyond the soul..where no one ever goes Yoni flower blooms like rose..Gyrate till your nectar flows Taste is sweet..flavor unique..savor moment we reach our peak What is complete? No need to speak..find what you sought to seek Next level we begin to glow..Shine like stars put on a show *** ****** this Scorpio...with poetry I Kiss You Low...
0
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
Kiss You Low
I watched the mailman go by again. He's always at it, delivering mail. It reminded me how the days pass by and how theres always Thursdays. The mailman goes by day after day, shoving mail into box after box. I watch him. I watch his technique. He doesn't know I'm watching, but then slowly people trickle out of their houses. To open the previously closed box and open the previously sealed letter. One letter may be special. So lets be thankful for this doorless truck and its driver. But really its all about the driver The mailman.
0
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
the mailman
Into the bubbling blue bath of my bliss my body breaks free of all bounds; enchanted melodies cavort across my tongue, unchained continents of merriment. Shooting stars; cool satisfaction coats me completely. I have lost all curiosity for torture technique, while this melody bounces across the cosmos. My imperfect lovely: Perfectly fractured, all my shattered pieces fit your holes, and even now, I glue pieces of you into the slots they fit. A singular petal glistening with dew, Deep crimsom; long stemmed tulip. Black eyes, its stamen. Shedded insight, I lowered my body before you, as offering. How will you devour this dream of desire? It is a feast to be consumed, in small bites, and copious servings of seconds. Do not allow this flower to fade, it may save you from yourself. Blessings bestowed before bedtime often fade away by dawn, give thanks for the present, draw strength from the past, take heart, what is meant to be will always last... in the end.
0
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 12:20 PM UTC
Lost Pages
the pitch dark symmetry of spiral engraved glossy jet black vinyl the ***** claws and webbed spiders; graced with impeccable scratch words come back around from dog day afternoon; entwined in ritual beatology technique absorbed in prowess dedication assimilated by passion; human form and synthetic resin becomes overlayed polyvinyl chloride or unsaturated hydrocarbon radicals; a derivative by any other name I'll leave that nugget for the pub quiz and relax, post-Christmas stress; the street scramble bustle, embrace a pint of black magic
0
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 10:28 AM UTC
Hip Hop Stormtrooper
Life is like cupcakes and pizza, sometimes even when you think you've done it correctly with perfect measurement, accurate technique... Still sometimes it turns out to be hard and bad.. Then you'd realize its not about the perfect ingredients or the correct methods after all... its all coming from your heart... Your sincerity in doing things and making and living your life.. So that it'll be as soft and sweet as your cupcakes and as delicious as your mouth waterin pepperoni pizza..
0
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 1:56 PM UTC
Life, cupcakes and pizza...
Tell me about a fellow, who played the guitar or something similar, How he starved playin' night and day, The way he didn't have enough to eat, Tell me about his technique, If I were to try it, you'd keep me quiet wouldn't you? You say he died young but lives on through the unique melody he brought you and I, but back in those days he was told to play a different way, the same thing would happen today! I tell you, The same thing would happen today...
0
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 5:58 PM UTC
A musician
Unsure, Pen touches paper, words tumble from my mind straight onto the page. There is never any technique, it's always just misguided thoughts expressive uncertainties scrawled for the world.
0
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 2:26 PM UTC
Unsure
Notes on your window So subtly appear As though they came from thin air No rhyme, but reason A familiar flick of the e's in everything Glimpse of hope A handwriting technique you know well Smeared ink against the fibers Calling out for one last message They seem to procreate every few weeks A simple one Minimalistic hopes of something Nothing more to lose Just a note on your window Signed by a smeared "O"
0
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 11:08 PM UTC
Notes On Your Window.