all plants need something holding them together. without the stem, there is no plant. the stem is the principle. there is nothing without it. it’s like air. plants need it to live. we need it so that they can live so we can live.
Where does the word “stem” stem from? Why do people have the urge to look into the past and find the roots of ideas, words, events etc.? Maybe the word “stem” should just be applied as the noun, like the stem of a flower.
flower. blooming. pedals. falling. alone on the ground now but they were once part of something beautiful and much greater than themselves, that is why we appreciate them individually as well as find ourselves downcast when we see them detached on the floor.
Everything stems from something and the stem stems from the roots. Without the roots, we would have no firm grip on whatever we are gripping: reality, the ground, ourselves. Without the stem, there is no growth, without growth, this world does not evolve. We would be running in the same place for centuries. Without the stem, we would be stuck in the stone ages.
the stem. so green and erect like life in a straw flowing into the mouth of a fertile leaf or glamorous flower. it sustains. and corrects. builds and grows.
The flower grew up beautiful, the stem bright green and solid. The purple and pink petals bloomed brilliantly, their color radiating happiness and joy. She held them, loving every millimeter of the beauties. She loved that man that gave them to her. She loved the flower that was missing a petal. She loved them. They were perfect because they were love.
My thoughts stem from one thing to another, it’s rather interesting to trace it all back to the first thought I had. I always wonder how I get from one thing to another, it’s usually memories that do the trick. My train of thought is rather odd, I don’t think other people would understand which is probably why I keep them to myself the majority of the time. Emotions run deep but I don’t share them. It’s a problem sometimes.
The stem grew fondly from the flower as if a baby was being born. The flower bloomed rapidly as if it only had a few seconds to live. The colors bled like a gun shot victim and the rain tore apart it’s leaves. Heartbroken flower all by its lonesome. If only the little flower had a little longer to live. It had dreams way to big for this world. All it wanted was to taste the sun and drink the air around it. But gravity got the best of it. Torn apart piece by piece. Dreams crushed. Hope is gone.
so I’m looking at this leaf. it has the strangest way about it, staring at me like the girl i was with this afternoon. i wonder if the leaf has any feelings for me, its pretty, i like the leaf. I want the leaf to feel good about being here with me, i do.
All these feelingsstem from thoughts im not willing to accept. WHy cant I just tellmyself the truth about why I feel the way I do. I say I am sad and I dont know why, really I am sad and I know exactly why. I just dont want to admit that you are who makes me sad. If I could just let myself believe it, maybe I could tell you, but then again, I feel like I may be making myself believe it. DO I know why i feel this way or are allthe ideas just I have just educated guesses?
“Oh, you want to know what the stem of the problem is then? Alright, I ‘ll tell you what the stem of the fucking problem is. It’s you you fucking jackass!”
She was growing more agitated by the second, breathing so hard through her mouth that if she’d breath any harder she would surely be lifted up into the sky and fly away like a rouge balloon.
He was having a very hard time containing his laughter. She just looked so damn cute! Flushed and angry, yumm, just the way he liked her. He liked her riled up and fuming. She looked so sexy that way. He decided to put her out of her misery the only fool proof way he knew how.
Giving her the sexiest smile he could form, he started walking towards her, a dominant confidence oozing out of him. It only served to fuel her anger even more. She marched right up to him, intent on giving him a thorough verbal assault but those plans flew out the window fast as she found herself caught in a very strong one arm embrace, crushed to his body and in a matter of seconds, her mouth silenced with the force of his rugged lips.
the stalk…the green stalk that sprouts forth from a bright abyss. No ground, not beginning, just growing from nothing. What keeps it alive? How does this ‘stem’ keep alive?
leaf tree plant dirt soil worm earth mars mercury jupiter sun stars water roots stem plant orange orange tree south east west tropical carribean pirates movies sleep water eat popcorn movie family night day west north
A stem leads up into a flower. I look from the flower into your face. Your green-ever changing eyes. I can swim in those eyes and feel the warmth wrap me in a blanket of love.
The rose stood proud and tall it’s stem bending ever so slightly in a gentle breeze. It was so supple it would not break with the lightest breath, even as the rose appeared able to do so. If the wind blew harder the rose would begin to bow as though about to engage in a beauteous dance.
The sun; it’s bright, it’s warm, it’s the main source of energy.
I sit up, and look at the blooming flowers surrounding me. I finger the green stem of an iris, and smile. Peace, lovely peace.
It never lasts very long, does it?
Flowers, roots, soil, worms, birds, blue birds, the cardinal in my back yard the other day, it isn’t fair that the males are more colorful than the females, foxes, I want a domesticated fox.
i like the word Stem because it can mean for flowers, or stem cells. also, sometimes in movies guys will say a girl has nice “stems” meaning legs. My familys women have had nice legs. A lot of dancers in our family. I wish i were still dancing.
Tree, flower, plants, all, feeding up into the sky, breathe life, breathing time, water and nutrients, up to light, hold me, swinging, lift up, face with me the force of gravity.
the stem of my life was contained in the bosom of a woman who loved me very much and the purpose of my life was a stem of her forgiveness and love of another man This is the truth as I know it
The world branches for each of us from one stem; one life; one moment. To embrace this life is to give life to the ever expanding tree of life. To fail life is to fall silently to the ground, unfulfilled.
A stem pushed its way through the earth and found itself at the foot of a flower. The connection between them fed a relationship that embodied the essence of beauty.
Flowers have stems. And I love flowers. I wish I could grow them. Unfortunately, I inherited my mom’s brown thumb. I look at it and it basically dies. But without stems, the flower would jot be able to live.
the stem is what leads to life. The life of a flower depends on that stem as the life of a human depends on its stem. Without that stem the flower has no will to live because it has nothing to support it. Without our stems, as humans, we will slowly wilt like the flower. We meet these stems in our family, friends, and the random people we run into at local coffee shops.
Words are ugly things. Once you think you have a mastery of them you realize you seem stupid when you use them. Sometimes the wrong words come out when you least expect it. You find that most of the time you can’t think of the word you need when you need it.
The stem of a flower is what keeps in stable. It keeps it standing. Standing high to see the sun. Feel the fun. Feed the bees. The stem is it’s backbone. It’s body. It’s life.
Riding my bike across the sidewalk, it was the stem from the low over-hanging tree that caught me in my face, leaving a red welt across my cheek. The beauty in nature, can be painful.. but as they say, beauty IS pain.
The thorn on the stem of the rose drew a solitary drop of blood from my fingertip. such significance. all roses have thorns. such beauty and yet pain can still come from it.
I thought I’d be okay. My mother said, “Don’t worry, Little Star, dream big and things will turn out like they should.”
She always used to call me her “Little Star”. I kept my eyes on the stars. However, right now…I’m looking down at the ground, worrying…bending like a stem.
the rose appeared within his hand. a thorn had pricked the soft of his callus and light blood tricked down his hand as he presented the rose to me. “I’m sorry Courtney, its you. Its always been you. I love you”
the stem of a plant is where its life begins. There is no other way for this plant to be brought into fruitino. Without the stem, where does the plant come from? Things have to have stems. We would not be able to live with out stems. Think about it. Even our brains have stems. These stems connect the psychological theory of our heads that process all the
all plants need something holding them together. without the stem, there is no plant. the stem is the principle. there is nothing without it. it’s like air. plants need it to live. we need it so that they can live so we can live.
Where does the word “stem” stem from? Why do people have the urge to look into the past and find the roots of ideas, words, events etc.? Maybe the word “stem” should just be applied as the noun, like the stem of a flower.
flower. blooming. pedals. falling. alone on the ground now but they were once part of something beautiful and much greater than themselves, that is why we appreciate them individually as well as find ourselves downcast when we see them detached on the floor.
Everything stems from something and the stem stems from the roots. Without the roots, we would have no firm grip on whatever we are gripping: reality, the ground, ourselves. Without the stem, there is no growth, without growth, this world does not evolve. We would be running in the same place for centuries. Without the stem, we would be stuck in the stone ages.
the stem. so green and erect like life in a straw flowing into the mouth of a fertile leaf or glamorous flower. it sustains. and corrects. builds and grows.
The flower grew up beautiful, the stem bright green and solid. The purple and pink petals bloomed brilliantly, their color radiating happiness and joy. She held them, loving every millimeter of the beauties. She loved that man that gave them to her. She loved the flower that was missing a petal. She loved them. They were perfect because they were love.
My thoughts stem from one thing to another, it’s rather interesting to trace it all back to the first thought I had. I always wonder how I get from one thing to another, it’s usually memories that do the trick. My train of thought is rather odd, I don’t think other people would understand which is probably why I keep them to myself the majority of the time. Emotions run deep but I don’t share them. It’s a problem sometimes.
The stem grew fondly from the flower as if a baby was being born. The flower bloomed rapidly as if it only had a few seconds to live. The colors bled like a gun shot victim and the rain tore apart it’s leaves. Heartbroken flower all by its lonesome. If only the little flower had a little longer to live. It had dreams way to big for this world. All it wanted was to taste the sun and drink the air around it. But gravity got the best of it. Torn apart piece by piece. Dreams crushed. Hope is gone.
so I’m looking at this leaf. it has the strangest way about it, staring at me like the girl i was with this afternoon. i wonder if the leaf has any feelings for me, its pretty, i like the leaf. I want the leaf to feel good about being here with me, i do.
I hate when people pick flowers and leave them on the ground, its rude. why pick it in the first place then?
All these feelingsstem from thoughts im not willing to accept. WHy cant I just tellmyself the truth about why I feel the way I do. I say I am sad and I dont know why, really I am sad and I know exactly why. I just dont want to admit that you are who makes me sad. If I could just let myself believe it, maybe I could tell you, but then again, I feel like I may be making myself believe it. DO I know why i feel this way or are allthe ideas just I have just educated guesses?
the stem, so small, but so significant.. It hold the flower, that thin weak stem, but if the flo
“Oh, you want to know what the stem of the problem is then? Alright, I ‘ll tell you what the stem of the fucking problem is. It’s you you fucking jackass!”
She was growing more agitated by the second, breathing so hard through her mouth that if she’d breath any harder she would surely be lifted up into the sky and fly away like a rouge balloon.
He was having a very hard time containing his laughter. She just looked so damn cute! Flushed and angry, yumm, just the way he liked her. He liked her riled up and fuming. She looked so sexy that way. He decided to put her out of her misery the only fool proof way he knew how.
Giving her the sexiest smile he could form, he started walking towards her, a dominant confidence oozing out of him. It only served to fuel her anger even more. She marched right up to him, intent on giving him a thorough verbal assault but those plans flew out the window fast as she found herself caught in a very strong one arm embrace, crushed to his body and in a matter of seconds, her mouth silenced with the force of his rugged lips.
Just the way she liked it.
a
the stalk…the green stalk that sprouts forth from a bright abyss. No ground, not beginning, just growing from nothing. What keeps it alive? How does this ‘stem’ keep alive?
leaf tree plant dirt soil worm earth mars mercury jupiter sun stars water roots stem plant orange orange tree south east west tropical carribean pirates movies sleep water eat popcorn movie family night day west north
A stem leads up into a flower. I look from the flower into your face. Your green-ever changing eyes. I can swim in those eyes and feel the warmth wrap me in a blanket of love.
The stem I saw was green and bright like her shirt. It was strong. I never thought it could break. Like her back. The day she died.
The rose stood proud and tall it’s stem bending ever so slightly in a gentle breeze. It was so supple it would not break with the lightest breath, even as the rose appeared able to do so. If the wind blew harder the rose would begin to bow as though about to engage in a beauteous dance.
The sun; it’s bright, it’s warm, it’s the main source of energy.
I sit up, and look at the blooming flowers surrounding me. I finger the green stem of an iris, and smile. Peace, lovely peace.
It never lasts very long, does it?
Flowers, roots, soil, worms, birds, blue birds, the cardinal in my back yard the other day, it isn’t fair that the males are more colorful than the females, foxes, I want a domesticated fox.
No complete thoughts came to mind, obviously.
i like the word Stem because it can mean for flowers, or stem cells. also, sometimes in movies guys will say a girl has nice “stems” meaning legs. My familys women have had nice legs. A lot of dancers in our family. I wish i were still dancing.
Tree, flower, plants, all, feeding up into the sky, breathe life, breathing time, water and nutrients, up to light, hold me, swinging, lift up, face with me the force of gravity.
The problems stemmed from that first encounter. She came on too strong. He used humor to deflect her advances. It never progressed from there.
the stem of my life was contained in the bosom of a woman who loved me very much and the purpose of my life was a stem of her forgiveness and love of another man This is the truth as I know it
The world branches for each of us from one stem; one life; one moment. To embrace this life is to give life to the ever expanding tree of life. To fail life is to fall silently to the ground, unfulfilled.
A stem pushed its way through the earth and found itself at the foot of a flower. The connection between them fed a relationship that embodied the essence of beauty.
flower color beauty summer sun green leaf roots dirt grass fields clouds rain
Flowers have stems. And I love flowers. I wish I could grow them. Unfortunately, I inherited my mom’s brown thumb. I look at it and it basically dies. But without stems, the flower would jot be able to live.
Letting you grow and live and eat, letting you sway in the gentle breeze and enjoy the great outdoors like never before.
the stem is what leads to life. The life of a flower depends on that stem as the life of a human depends on its stem. Without that stem the flower has no will to live because it has nothing to support it. Without our stems, as humans, we will slowly wilt like the flower. We meet these stems in our family, friends, and the random people we run into at local coffee shops.
Words are ugly things. Once you think you have a mastery of them you realize you seem stupid when you use them. Sometimes the wrong words come out when you least expect it. You find that most of the time you can’t think of the word you need when you need it.
The stem of a flower is what keeps in stable. It keeps it standing. Standing high to see the sun. Feel the fun. Feed the bees. The stem is it’s backbone. It’s body. It’s life.
Riding my bike across the sidewalk, it was the stem from the low over-hanging tree that caught me in my face, leaving a red welt across my cheek. The beauty in nature, can be painful.. but as they say, beauty IS pain.
The thorn on the stem of the rose drew a solitary drop of blood from my fingertip. such significance. all roses have thorns. such beauty and yet pain can still come from it.
the stem of the flowers i drew in preschool were always green and healthy. little did i know that stems could be shrived and brown in reality.
I thought I’d be okay. My mother said, “Don’t worry, Little Star, dream big and things will turn out like they should.”
She always used to call me her “Little Star”. I kept my eyes on the stars. However, right now…I’m looking down at the ground, worrying…bending like a stem.
Growth. Death. Science and hope mingled together, the beginning of something, maybe.
the rose appeared within his hand. a thorn had pricked the soft of his callus and light blood tricked down his hand as he presented the rose to me. “I’m sorry Courtney, its you. Its always been you. I love you”
the stem of a plant is where its life begins. There is no other way for this plant to be brought into fruitino. Without the stem, where does the plant come from? Things have to have stems. We would not be able to live with out stems. Think about it. Even our brains have stems. These stems connect the psychological theory of our heads that process all the