Seeds of doubt were firmly planted when I saw him surreptiously placing money in my bag. Why on Earth would anyone do that? Where did the money come from? When I questioned him, he admitted that he was replacing it from a previous occasion. That was the last straw!
The seeds were planting in my head. I would go through with this idea. Set my goal, strive to reach it, then marvel in what becomes. All my life I dreamed of getting to this point of motivation and here it was, dangling in front of my eyes like a paci in front of a baby.
Seeds make me think of growth. You can seed a cloud the “grow” rain. You an plant the seed of an idea in a person’s mind. We can start a plant from scratch by planting its seeds.
There was something hard when he bit into the watermelon. He stopped eating it and had a confused look on his face that made him look like a deer in a headlight. Then he spat out the seed that was in his mouth.
“I’ve never wanted to be pregnant,” she said as she dropped a handful of seeds into the first of six small, deep holes. “Have you seen any of those videos, read anything about the process? Horrifying.”
“I guess,” I agreed.
“You’re imagining these seeds as sperm, aren’t you.” Statement, not a question.
Thinking about the Spring and planting again, ah but nothing survives, my efforts. It’s better I am a bird and pick them in my teeth, they give nutrition and i am better for other endeavors.
They’re planted but they don’t always grow. Like an idea, or maybe a feeling. You never know when you plant a seed within someone. A seed that has the power to change the world. One thing can lead to another and a seed can turn into a tree that gives shade and life to many people and things.
the seeds of dissent planted in the minds of our generation, lost after years of neglect. The farmer was distracted, too busy with his other crops to nurture these seeds. And so the crop was lost to the next generation.
seeds… small moments of life. what you sow is what you reap. attitudes. moments. wishes. what we fight for. decisions we make today that affect our tomorrow. our life is all made up of seeds and we are all trees that bear fruit. good fruit, bad fruit.. you choose. Are you who you wanna be ?
A bird once pecked at a seed. Sadly it found out that it was not a seed but it was a piece of dandruff in a stranger’s hair. They screamed and yelled as the bird flapped its wings desperate to get away to save its life.
Seeds. small and delicate. low expectations, until you make it a home underground and nurture it’s life. That seed will grow. Grow to be much larger than it’s initial self. What a wonderful thing seeds are and do. Lovely.
He looked at me with an enigmatic expression. I held my breath, not sure what he was going to do next. What had I just done? We’d been friends for so long. But, really, I’d never felt only friendship for him. His proximity made me dizzy, planting little seeds of hope in me that quickened my heart and made my fingertips feel oddly cold and shaky. The time and distance between us seemed interminable despite our sharing the one small piano bench. By the time I realized he was moving closer, his lips were touching mine. Softly, warmly, gently, he moved to fit my mouth, making me ever so glad I had planted that seed of an idea in his head.
seedy people are gross and seeds come from the grond and make stuff and seedy things taste like seeds and they are small and sometimes edible and stuff and they are yum and gross and i hate seedy cunts cause they aare just so seedy and they like little girls and stuff and why am i so seedy wait no im not seedy seeds turn into trees and then they make more seeds and that just goes on forever untill seeds are seedy
When you want to make a farm, you’re going to need seeds. You will use these to grow the plants you want. These plants will provide you with more seeds, and in turn more plants.
The seeds of truth are sown deeply. However, many people are made of tough soil–the kind which will not allow for growth. In that soil, the seeds will not thrive. Truth dies. The lies they prefer remain.
He still remembers that summer they spent spreading seeds around the garden. And the roses, so red… just like her lips. And the smell, and her smell. And the lust.
And I really hoped that he saw how big our tree had grown, spreading its leaves to the sky. Seeds grew inside the bountiful fruit, and I smiled into the sunshine. He grabbed me close, and the branches intertwined into a beautiful love story full of nature and chance.
One day I went outside to plant a sunflower. My father gave me a packet of seeds to plant. He is the “seed supplier” or “gardener sir” in OUR house. So I went outside, and, because sunflower is my most favorite flower, I planted it in most favorite spot, the swings. I planted it next to the swings, so I could look at it when I would swing! Great idea, huh? Well, everyone thought it was. And, of course, it was! That 1 packet of seeds turned into a great big sunflower.
What about seeds, then? They’re probably growing in my stomach somewhere. Mom used to tell me that with every apple seed I’d swallow, a tree would grow in my stomach. Same for watermelons. Same for bubble gum. A conglomerate tree of bubblegum would escalate from the depths of my stomach and into my esophagus and out of my mouth and into the sky and I’d arch my head backwards, allowing pink to reach the skies.
I grow plants from seeds. I try to grow things in myself the same way. Nurturing, tending to and revisiting regularly to see if there are any changes that I am withnessing. I am sure that the plants get more of my imagination than I do for myself. More time.
Well she planted the seeds in her garden, but only one of them grew. It grew so big, that she soon had to reach up on her tippy toes to kiss the top of its branches. And then, a storm came, and the tree got weathered down into practically nothing, because all its leaves were gone, but then they started to grow back, to make the tree even more beautiful than before.
In the back yard of the old neighbor’s house, Her name was anamarie, and she had lived there for many years, there were many seeds that had been planted over the years. She tried again and again every summer, but nothing ever grew. Much like the medicine that the doctors gave her, but those were to stop the growing. Mom always said they were “lumps” or “bugs” that lived inside her, that tried to strangle her.
She pressed the little pods into the ground and wept as she did so. Each drop helped nudge them forward, into growth and into life. She pressed them into the earth, thousands of them and she wept until her dried husk of a body blew away into dust.
Like a seed
I grew upon my own roots
took the light in and shined
all by myself
But nobody noticed
or congratulated me
because I was a hideous
wallflower
a weed that needed to be
picked.
I planted the seeds and watched them grow like the giant and the bean stalk. They sprouted forth beyond anyone’s control, growing beyond the heavens, and out of our control. People came far and wide, young and old, everyone wanted to see, as they hung onto to the words from our imagination tree.
I knelt on the ground. I could feel the water soak through the knees of my jeans, but I didn’t care. I dropped the seed into the ground and pushed the dirt over it. It was more like mud at the moment.
In the shadows grow the seeds of doubt. I miss him, I know it. But from here in the woods while he ventures in the sun, I get confused. I’m not sure if I’m missing him, or missing the opportunity he’s taking.
God’s love is like seeds. You plant it deep inside you where it’s roots grow, but no one else can see it. It flowers and blooms into something incredibly beautiful.
I don’t like seeds in my fruit. They’re very irksome. There was one time when I happened upon a clementine that had at least fifteen seeds in it. It was quite ridiculous, and although it was a delicious clementine, my experience was quite dreadful. Seeds, however, are the first step in life for many things. Well, nearly everything. Well, plants, and animals, and even humans. What do you think sperm is?
Today, the dictator took over.
Today, the seeds of rebellion have been planted.
Today, I chose my side.
From today on, I do everything in my power to make sure that the rebellion comes out victorious.
seeds are an interesting metaphorical ideal because they are not only an object from which trees or fruits sprout, but they are also symbolic of new beginnings, of possibility and of growth in the future. Planting a seed does not have to be literal, therefore, but can be done metaphorically in ones life to start afresh or embark on a new journey.
there’s something inherently magical and beautiful about planting seeds and waiting patiently for the first sign of a straggly green sprout. caring for the tiny sapling, nurturing it, loving it.
inside the earth where my body decays slowly minute by minute i provide the nourishment they require to become the mesmerizing flowers that will one day captivate your very mind.
Lol endosperm….anyways.
The seed in my heart has grown into something that bloomed and has become somehting of utter beauty…in the end however I had to cut it off.
In the room for another growth, later on..
A teacher, to me, is more than a teacher; they’re planters. They plant the seed of thought in the minds of their students. They care and nurture it and sometimes they flourish, though sometimes they don’t. It’s a wonderfully beautiful process, to see these bright young minds, these blank canvases, these empty plots of soil, burst into bloom at long last after years of tending.
Seeds grow from the ground. They produce new living things, like flowers or vegetables. Gardens for example are full of seeds. The grown offspring from the seeds produce more seeds making a never ending cycle of life.
Seeds of doubt were firmly planted when I saw him surreptiously placing money in my bag. Why on Earth would anyone do that? Where did the money come from? When I questioned him, he admitted that he was replacing it from a previous occasion. That was the last straw!
The seeds were planting in my head. I would go through with this idea. Set my goal, strive to reach it, then marvel in what becomes. All my life I dreamed of getting to this point of motivation and here it was, dangling in front of my eyes like a paci in front of a baby.
Seeds make me think of growth. You can seed a cloud the “grow” rain. You an plant the seed of an idea in a person’s mind. We can start a plant from scratch by planting its seeds.
There was something hard when he bit into the watermelon. He stopped eating it and had a confused look on his face that made him look like a deer in a headlight. Then he spat out the seed that was in his mouth.
“I’ve never wanted to be pregnant,” she said as she dropped a handful of seeds into the first of six small, deep holes. “Have you seen any of those videos, read anything about the process? Horrifying.”
“I guess,” I agreed.
“You’re imagining these seeds as sperm, aren’t you.” Statement, not a question.
I shrugged and grinned sheepishly.
Thinking about the Spring and planting again, ah but nothing survives, my efforts. It’s better I am a bird and pick them in my teeth, they give nutrition and i am better for other endeavors.
The seeds of hope were planted. Whether that was what they had intended, they were there, buried deep down in the hearts of the people.
They’re planted but they don’t always grow. Like an idea, or maybe a feeling. You never know when you plant a seed within someone. A seed that has the power to change the world. One thing can lead to another and a seed can turn into a tree that gives shade and life to many people and things.
the seeds of dissent planted in the minds of our generation, lost after years of neglect. The farmer was distracted, too busy with his other crops to nurture these seeds. And so the crop was lost to the next generation.
seeds… small moments of life. what you sow is what you reap. attitudes. moments. wishes. what we fight for. decisions we make today that affect our tomorrow. our life is all made up of seeds and we are all trees that bear fruit. good fruit, bad fruit.. you choose. Are you who you wanna be ?
Sunflower seeds and the dugout. This is a summer’s day. It is to me anyway. Chew and spit, Chew and spit. Hopefully we will win
A bird once pecked at a seed. Sadly it found out that it was not a seed but it was a piece of dandruff in a stranger’s hair. They screamed and yelled as the bird flapped its wings desperate to get away to save its life.
Seeds. small and delicate. low expectations, until you make it a home underground and nurture it’s life. That seed will grow. Grow to be much larger than it’s initial self. What a wonderful thing seeds are and do. Lovely.
He looked at me with an enigmatic expression. I held my breath, not sure what he was going to do next. What had I just done? We’d been friends for so long. But, really, I’d never felt only friendship for him. His proximity made me dizzy, planting little seeds of hope in me that quickened my heart and made my fingertips feel oddly cold and shaky. The time and distance between us seemed interminable despite our sharing the one small piano bench. By the time I realized he was moving closer, his lips were touching mine. Softly, warmly, gently, he moved to fit my mouth, making me ever so glad I had planted that seed of an idea in his head.
seedy people are gross and seeds come from the grond and make stuff and seedy things taste like seeds and they are small and sometimes edible and stuff and they are yum and gross and i hate seedy cunts cause they aare just so seedy and they like little girls and stuff and why am i so seedy wait no im not seedy seeds turn into trees and then they make more seeds and that just goes on forever untill seeds are seedy
When you want to make a farm, you’re going to need seeds. You will use these to grow the plants you want. These plants will provide you with more seeds, and in turn more plants.
The seeds of truth are sown deeply. However, many people are made of tough soil–the kind which will not allow for growth. In that soil, the seeds will not thrive. Truth dies. The lies they prefer remain.
He still remembers that summer they spent spreading seeds around the garden. And the roses, so red… just like her lips. And the smell, and her smell. And the lust.
And I really hoped that he saw how big our tree had grown, spreading its leaves to the sky. Seeds grew inside the bountiful fruit, and I smiled into the sunshine. He grabbed me close, and the branches intertwined into a beautiful love story full of nature and chance.
One day I went outside to plant a sunflower. My father gave me a packet of seeds to plant. He is the “seed supplier” or “gardener sir” in OUR house. So I went outside, and, because sunflower is my most favorite flower, I planted it in most favorite spot, the swings. I planted it next to the swings, so I could look at it when I would swing! Great idea, huh? Well, everyone thought it was. And, of course, it was! That 1 packet of seeds turned into a great big sunflower.
Seeds of joy were planted in her heart- she could’ve let them grow. But somehow, it seemed easier to let them die with her.
What about seeds, then? They’re probably growing in my stomach somewhere. Mom used to tell me that with every apple seed I’d swallow, a tree would grow in my stomach. Same for watermelons. Same for bubble gum. A conglomerate tree of bubblegum would escalate from the depths of my stomach and into my esophagus and out of my mouth and into the sky and I’d arch my head backwards, allowing pink to reach the skies.
I grow plants from seeds. I try to grow things in myself the same way. Nurturing, tending to and revisiting regularly to see if there are any changes that I am withnessing. I am sure that the plants get more of my imagination than I do for myself. More time.
Well she planted the seeds in her garden, but only one of them grew. It grew so big, that she soon had to reach up on her tippy toes to kiss the top of its branches. And then, a storm came, and the tree got weathered down into practically nothing, because all its leaves were gone, but then they started to grow back, to make the tree even more beautiful than before.
In the back yard of the old neighbor’s house, Her name was anamarie, and she had lived there for many years, there were many seeds that had been planted over the years. She tried again and again every summer, but nothing ever grew. Much like the medicine that the doctors gave her, but those were to stop the growing. Mom always said they were “lumps” or “bugs” that lived inside her, that tried to strangle her.
Life
We plant it
like small little seeds
into the ground
watch it flower
bloom
grow taller
inch by inch
centimeter by centimeter
It grows
so tall
From one small seed-
look how life per vales
Life is like a seed
it can go so many directions
and we do not know unless we plant it
And like a flower,
we will
wilt
and die.
That is life
She pressed the little pods into the ground and wept as she did so. Each drop helped nudge them forward, into growth and into life. She pressed them into the earth, thousands of them and she wept until her dried husk of a body blew away into dust.
Like a seed
I grew upon my own roots
took the light in and shined
all by myself
But nobody noticed
or congratulated me
because I was a hideous
wallflower
a weed that needed to be
picked.
I planted the seeds and watched them grow like the giant and the bean stalk. They sprouted forth beyond anyone’s control, growing beyond the heavens, and out of our control. People came far and wide, young and old, everyone wanted to see, as they hung onto to the words from our imagination tree.
I knelt on the ground. I could feel the water soak through the knees of my jeans, but I didn’t care. I dropped the seed into the ground and pushed the dirt over it. It was more like mud at the moment.
In the shadows grow the seeds of doubt. I miss him, I know it. But from here in the woods while he ventures in the sun, I get confused. I’m not sure if I’m missing him, or missing the opportunity he’s taking.
God’s love is like seeds. You plant it deep inside you where it’s roots grow, but no one else can see it. It flowers and blooms into something incredibly beautiful.
I don’t like seeds in my fruit. They’re very irksome. There was one time when I happened upon a clementine that had at least fifteen seeds in it. It was quite ridiculous, and although it was a delicious clementine, my experience was quite dreadful. Seeds, however, are the first step in life for many things. Well, nearly everything. Well, plants, and animals, and even humans. What do you think sperm is?
Today, the dictator took over.
Today, the seeds of rebellion have been planted.
Today, I chose my side.
From today on, I do everything in my power to make sure that the rebellion comes out victorious.
seeds are an interesting metaphorical ideal because they are not only an object from which trees or fruits sprout, but they are also symbolic of new beginnings, of possibility and of growth in the future. Planting a seed does not have to be literal, therefore, but can be done metaphorically in ones life to start afresh or embark on a new journey.
there’s something inherently magical and beautiful about planting seeds and waiting patiently for the first sign of a straggly green sprout. caring for the tiny sapling, nurturing it, loving it.
inside the earth where my body decays slowly minute by minute i provide the nourishment they require to become the mesmerizing flowers that will one day captivate your very mind.
Lol endosperm….anyways.
The seed in my heart has grown into something that bloomed and has become somehting of utter beauty…in the end however I had to cut it off.
In the room for another growth, later on..
A teacher, to me, is more than a teacher; they’re planters. They plant the seed of thought in the minds of their students. They care and nurture it and sometimes they flourish, though sometimes they don’t. It’s a wonderfully beautiful process, to see these bright young minds, these blank canvases, these empty plots of soil, burst into bloom at long last after years of tending.
Seeds grow from the ground. They produce new living things, like flowers or vegetables. Gardens for example are full of seeds. The grown offspring from the seeds produce more seeds making a never ending cycle of life.