babies need a lot of nourishment while they are little so they could grow. They need fruits veggies and vitamins plenty of other things to help them grow.
cad
Horses nourish there young so they could grow strong.
cad
Cows nourish their calfs with milk from their udders.
cad
Never ever have to be worrying about something again! May your fields be full of fasrm animals and wheat! Always know, nature is guarding you, just you need to know how to please her.
The leaves drew from the trees that strength and warmth necessary for growth; the tree, from the soil; the soil, from the river; the river, from the ocean; the ocean, from the glaciers. Who knows what nourishes them?
ml
We as human beings lack the basic nourishment we require to grow and survive and I’m not talking about food here.
Umaiya
The mind needs books and the body needs food. You have to feed both to be happy and balanced.
it makes me think about food. Not just food but the right food, food as fuel. Food that will help the body in the right way. Also, spiritual nourishment comes to mind…..food for the ‘soul’.
cs
writers nourish when they write anything that comes to their mind. by proper training and consistent practice anyone could nourish as a writer.
deepthi
Nourish. Like the waters on the plants. Like a baby sucking a mother’s breast. Like food for the body. What thoughts do to the brain.
Patrick
When the colonists’ food stores exploded (they suspect that one of the pests on the planet had gotten into the store house and caused a short in the electrical system), the colonists quickly had to decide which of the indigenous flora would nourish them. There was one tree-like structure, which they could nick the bark and drain the sap. They tried to cook with it, but it turned into an indigestible mass, and they tried to flavor it, but the resulting taste and smell was worse. So they collected the sap and found that it could nourish them. But the sap had no taste and while it could nourish them and they remained healthy, the bland drink three times/ day for years on end was horrible.
I felt alive for the first time in months. For so long I had felt emotionally drained, even dead, so to speak. However, this time, as I walked away, without looking back, I could feel something. I could feel the sun nourish my skin with its warm rays, and allowing me to glow, and radiate its light. I walked with a bounce in my step. As I took a sip of water, I felt relaxed, and hydrated. A smile crept along my face, growing ever wider. I felt like I could breathe again…at last. I could finally breathe.
Anna
She can hold the world in two arms;
she embraces the grayscale.
She can howl like the wolves,
the expanse of her throat a
fragile snowdrift that swallows
all other sound.
I pang and envy, and still
the closest I can come to it
is a whimper.
She coddles me like a mother
and hums my bones to sleep.
I had to move beyond the great wall inside my own mind. There was plenty within the wall, mind, to keep me entertained and fill my days. Replays of the hard done by me, a little well spring of half arsed ideas, sexual fantasies, the folly of mapping out a future, but it did not feel as if it were enough to nourish my soul. Futility crept like an unruly vine into the recesses of my nervous system. I was merely pacing the perimeter, moving in endless circles, getting slower.
it is the thing that every parent needs to do without asking why or questioning if it’s necessary or wondering if it does any good. It isn’t about food or the food groups or whether or not a french fry is worse than fresh leafy vegetables. It’s about what you add to this child’s mind or take away from it. Once I was on an elevator with a woman and her little girl; one of those New York women who want to teach their wealthy daughters how not to behave at an early age, because that set of people come with their own fucked up rules that only they really know about. Her little girl was talking about her life; babbling the way little ones do in a language they understand and we don’t; after all, what we say, God knows how much that sounds like babbling to them. The little girl was holding up a doll with very pink hair and said, “Pinks says it likes to be pink; pink says it’s fun to be pink.” Her mother was not pleased. “Pink doesn’t talk Chloe; pink is a color, not a person. Now put that doll in your backpack; we’re going to be late.” I wanted to say something, almost said something, was dying to say this: Is this just one aberration from how you’re teaching this kid? Or is this the way you teach her every day? Because if it’s the way you’re teaching her every day, well, you’re doing a great job of fucking up her head and taking away her imagination and creativity and playfulness and all the things she showed up on this planet with before you came along, ready to suck them right out of her. Because, you see, I happen to know that pink has lot to say. And your kid’s right, pink is very glad to be pink because it’s prettier and brighter and happier than a lot of other colors. By the way, did you ever happen to ask pink yourself how it felt? Never mind, don’t answer the question. The answer is right there. And one more thing. Pink says fuck you. You don’t know what fun is. And pink will be visiting your daughter some day again, when you’re out at one of those fundraisers where the only way anyone wears or knows pink is if everyone else is wearing or knowing it.
rubyluby
The body takes its nourishment from the sun, through the lenses of whatever excuses biology could make. I suppose the human body is its own excuse/proxy/barrier between sunlight and the earth, but the plants and animals in the interrim perform several levels of excuse, perhaps enough that we never have to question the body we stand in, just enough nourishment to keep the monologue going.
I looked at the flower in my hand, the petals wilting and falling apart, and I felt a small twinge of sadness. Someone had left it in my hand so I would find it when I awoke, and I wanted nothing more than to bring it back to full health… To bring it all the water it needed, all the sunlight. But no, its life was done… There was nothing I could do.
He used to sit up, wrapped in blankets. It was like a mountain, and he was its core. His mom read him stories when he was young, sitting across from him in a chair. Mystery books, she read. His mom always looked so peaceful when reading, and when something dramatic happened, she would change voices. Flick her eyes over to him to see if he was laughing or smiling or crying along with the book. All his life, she had nourished him with stories. When he was older, he read her stories. By her bed in the hospital. Until there were no more to read, no one to read them to.
Nourish your soul with the love of your best friend. His hand rubs my back and I know that his love is infinite. I will always have him to hold me up when I am on my way down.
It certainly didn’t look “nourishing.” And given my past experiences of being pressured by her to eat something weird, I gave her a look that I hoped communicated complete disgust and condescension.
How timely. Reading the musings of others who identify themselves as Children of God is always nourishing, and something I just finished up.
Christi
As she looked down at the child in her hands, her eyes started to tear up. This was her baby, her very own. Even though the doctors said it was almost impossible she would be able to have kids, God had blessed her. “I promise to always protect you, to cherish and treasure you. When you call I will be there for you. When you cry, I promise I will do everything I can to make you laugh. You are my child and a blessing.” As the baby started to get fussy, the doctor instructed her on how to feed her child. “You are my little miracle.” she whispered to her baby.
Caeli Wells
nourish the kid, play with him, feed him tiny hot dogs and little party hats so he doesn’t go away, so he keeps coming back. Give the kid a bounce castle and maybe a doctors outfit, so he can dream. Make the kid keep coming back to give your days a meaning, ask her for forgiveness. Talk to her again.
Kirk
Granted, the food felt healthy. But was it really all that good for me? Food should not just nourish the body, but the soul too. It tasted bland and the texture was disgusting; it shriveled my soul while it built my body.
ml
the earth nourishes every being on it, like a mother nourishing her child.
Nourish the body. Nourish it with healthy emotions; smiles and giggles or even some silent time. Silence could count as a detoxing of emotions. Why emotions? That’s what manifests physically most of the time.
Bee9
She ate, hungrily, greedily. She barely stopped to breathe. “Wow, I didn’t know food could taste this good.”
The large woman laughed, her voice bubbling like a stream.
you need to nourish you soul first, everything else will follow suit. It has to come from within and without it life becomes difficult… Seek to nourish yourself.. then help others.
Go on, it won’t bite you. I hope
You made it, at least tell me what’s in it.
Nourishing stuff. Green stuff.
If I’m going to live, I’m going teat something that taste good. NOt this healthy smelly crap.
Those are herbs. It would do you good to expand your taste.
I have one life and I’m determined to eat whatever the hell I want, doctor’s orders be damned.
Then you’ll end up right back where you are. Don’t you care about quality of life?
Dara
in food. It keeps you healthy and alive it helps you to grow
Meghan
There was a lake. We used to go down there. The memories are blurred like smudged charcoal.
Florence
It was important to have good food to keep the body nourished. Natasha was careful of what she ate. Only foods that were from healthy sources, limited carbs, lean protein, no junk, no sugar, no alcohol. She only drank blood from vegetarians or even better, from vegans. There were so many now!
she is hungry, but there are hungrier people. she wants to help him but doesn’t know where to get food, or at the very least food he’d like. she wants to cook, but she doesn’t remember how. its been too long since she’s cooked. it’s been too long since she’s been anything. done anything. she is lost. she needs to learn again-she has to try.
I want our global society to experience real nourishment, and then to prioritize it. I want to nourish my son, and I know the only real way I can do that is by nourishing myself. I’m not really sure I wouldn’t nourish myself the way I should without him. I’d love to be that person, but I like getting to be this, too.
I have been hoping to find someone who nourishes me. I left thinking there might be someone out there, and I have met someone… but when people are accustomed to caring for themselves… they don’t really let other people in.
As much as it bothers me that I haven’t been able to get close to anyone without hitting that border, I think that’s what I’m missing. Not having someone nourishing me. I’m talking about missing that ability to nourish myself I had back in my hell life. Self nourishment was how I survived, held on, kept from giving up until I had the strength to walk away.
Now, I have to figure out how to do that again. I can’t sit here waiting for someone to provide me with what I need. My lesson seems to be nourish myself and then I can share or exchange what I’ve ‘baked’ with someone else. Independent, sharing, caring, still us, but sharing.
Or is that just fear whispering in my head so I don’t let down my guard and let someone in again…
The small restaurant’s name was, in wooden paneling reminiscent of a TV set you would buy in the nineteen eighties – was simply “Nourish,” and when you stepped inside, the smell of sterilized linoleum and just a hint of chai would rush up to your nostrils and commence a full-on battalion assault. When I first walked into Nourish, I was in the mood for a coffee. I felt like I had stumbled into a sanitized hipster hospital.
babies need a lot of nourishment while they are little so they could grow. They need fruits veggies and vitamins plenty of other things to help them grow.
Horses nourish there young so they could grow strong.
Cows nourish their calfs with milk from their udders.
Never ever have to be worrying about something again! May your fields be full of fasrm animals and wheat! Always know, nature is guarding you, just you need to know how to please her.
The leaves drew from the trees that strength and warmth necessary for growth; the tree, from the soil; the soil, from the river; the river, from the ocean; the ocean, from the glaciers. Who knows what nourishes them?
We as human beings lack the basic nourishment we require to grow and survive and I’m not talking about food here.
The mind needs books and the body needs food. You have to feed both to be happy and balanced.
it makes me think about food. Not just food but the right food, food as fuel. Food that will help the body in the right way. Also, spiritual nourishment comes to mind…..food for the ‘soul’.
writers nourish when they write anything that comes to their mind. by proper training and consistent practice anyone could nourish as a writer.
Nourish. Like the waters on the plants. Like a baby sucking a mother’s breast. Like food for the body. What thoughts do to the brain.
When the colonists’ food stores exploded (they suspect that one of the pests on the planet had gotten into the store house and caused a short in the electrical system), the colonists quickly had to decide which of the indigenous flora would nourish them. There was one tree-like structure, which they could nick the bark and drain the sap. They tried to cook with it, but it turned into an indigestible mass, and they tried to flavor it, but the resulting taste and smell was worse. So they collected the sap and found that it could nourish them. But the sap had no taste and while it could nourish them and they remained healthy, the bland drink three times/ day for years on end was horrible.
I felt alive for the first time in months. For so long I had felt emotionally drained, even dead, so to speak. However, this time, as I walked away, without looking back, I could feel something. I could feel the sun nourish my skin with its warm rays, and allowing me to glow, and radiate its light. I walked with a bounce in my step. As I took a sip of water, I felt relaxed, and hydrated. A smile crept along my face, growing ever wider. I felt like I could breathe again…at last. I could finally breathe.
She can hold the world in two arms;
she embraces the grayscale.
She can howl like the wolves,
the expanse of her throat a
fragile snowdrift that swallows
all other sound.
I pang and envy, and still
the closest I can come to it
is a whimper.
She coddles me like a mother
and hums my bones to sleep.
I had to move beyond the great wall inside my own mind. There was plenty within the wall, mind, to keep me entertained and fill my days. Replays of the hard done by me, a little well spring of half arsed ideas, sexual fantasies, the folly of mapping out a future, but it did not feel as if it were enough to nourish my soul. Futility crept like an unruly vine into the recesses of my nervous system. I was merely pacing the perimeter, moving in endless circles, getting slower.
Are you nourished? Has your being gorged on the ever-longing glory it craves? I have yet to taste it and my intuition tells me you haven’t either.
it is the thing that every parent needs to do without asking why or questioning if it’s necessary or wondering if it does any good. It isn’t about food or the food groups or whether or not a french fry is worse than fresh leafy vegetables. It’s about what you add to this child’s mind or take away from it. Once I was on an elevator with a woman and her little girl; one of those New York women who want to teach their wealthy daughters how not to behave at an early age, because that set of people come with their own fucked up rules that only they really know about. Her little girl was talking about her life; babbling the way little ones do in a language they understand and we don’t; after all, what we say, God knows how much that sounds like babbling to them. The little girl was holding up a doll with very pink hair and said, “Pinks says it likes to be pink; pink says it’s fun to be pink.” Her mother was not pleased. “Pink doesn’t talk Chloe; pink is a color, not a person. Now put that doll in your backpack; we’re going to be late.” I wanted to say something, almost said something, was dying to say this: Is this just one aberration from how you’re teaching this kid? Or is this the way you teach her every day? Because if it’s the way you’re teaching her every day, well, you’re doing a great job of fucking up her head and taking away her imagination and creativity and playfulness and all the things she showed up on this planet with before you came along, ready to suck them right out of her. Because, you see, I happen to know that pink has lot to say. And your kid’s right, pink is very glad to be pink because it’s prettier and brighter and happier than a lot of other colors. By the way, did you ever happen to ask pink yourself how it felt? Never mind, don’t answer the question. The answer is right there. And one more thing. Pink says fuck you. You don’t know what fun is. And pink will be visiting your daughter some day again, when you’re out at one of those fundraisers where the only way anyone wears or knows pink is if everyone else is wearing or knowing it.
The body takes its nourishment from the sun, through the lenses of whatever excuses biology could make. I suppose the human body is its own excuse/proxy/barrier between sunlight and the earth, but the plants and animals in the interrim perform several levels of excuse, perhaps enough that we never have to question the body we stand in, just enough nourishment to keep the monologue going.
I looked at the flower in my hand, the petals wilting and falling apart, and I felt a small twinge of sadness. Someone had left it in my hand so I would find it when I awoke, and I wanted nothing more than to bring it back to full health… To bring it all the water it needed, all the sunlight. But no, its life was done… There was nothing I could do.
He used to sit up, wrapped in blankets. It was like a mountain, and he was its core. His mom read him stories when he was young, sitting across from him in a chair. Mystery books, she read. His mom always looked so peaceful when reading, and when something dramatic happened, she would change voices. Flick her eyes over to him to see if he was laughing or smiling or crying along with the book. All his life, she had nourished him with stories. When he was older, he read her stories. By her bed in the hospital. Until there were no more to read, no one to read them to.
Nourish your soul with the love of your best friend. His hand rubs my back and I know that his love is infinite. I will always have him to hold me up when I am on my way down.
Develop e for.
It certainly didn’t look “nourishing.” And given my past experiences of being pressured by her to eat something weird, I gave her a look that I hoped communicated complete disgust and condescension.
How timely. Reading the musings of others who identify themselves as Children of God is always nourishing, and something I just finished up.
As she looked down at the child in her hands, her eyes started to tear up. This was her baby, her very own. Even though the doctors said it was almost impossible she would be able to have kids, God had blessed her. “I promise to always protect you, to cherish and treasure you. When you call I will be there for you. When you cry, I promise I will do everything I can to make you laugh. You are my child and a blessing.” As the baby started to get fussy, the doctor instructed her on how to feed her child. “You are my little miracle.” she whispered to her baby.
nourish the kid, play with him, feed him tiny hot dogs and little party hats so he doesn’t go away, so he keeps coming back. Give the kid a bounce castle and maybe a doctors outfit, so he can dream. Make the kid keep coming back to give your days a meaning, ask her for forgiveness. Talk to her again.
Granted, the food felt healthy. But was it really all that good for me? Food should not just nourish the body, but the soul too. It tasted bland and the texture was disgusting; it shriveled my soul while it built my body.
the earth nourishes every being on it, like a mother nourishing her child.
after all, we are all the earths children.
Nourish the body. Nourish it with healthy emotions; smiles and giggles or even some silent time. Silence could count as a detoxing of emotions. Why emotions? That’s what manifests physically most of the time.
She ate, hungrily, greedily. She barely stopped to breathe. “Wow, I didn’t know food could taste this good.”
The large woman laughed, her voice bubbling like a stream.
you need to nourish you soul first, everything else will follow suit. It has to come from within and without it life becomes difficult… Seek to nourish yourself.. then help others.
Go on, it won’t bite you. I hope
You made it, at least tell me what’s in it.
Nourishing stuff. Green stuff.
If I’m going to live, I’m going teat something that taste good. NOt this healthy smelly crap.
Those are herbs. It would do you good to expand your taste.
I have one life and I’m determined to eat whatever the hell I want, doctor’s orders be damned.
Then you’ll end up right back where you are. Don’t you care about quality of life?
in food. It keeps you healthy and alive it helps you to grow
There was a lake. We used to go down there. The memories are blurred like smudged charcoal.
It was important to have good food to keep the body nourished. Natasha was careful of what she ate. Only foods that were from healthy sources, limited carbs, lean protein, no junk, no sugar, no alcohol. She only drank blood from vegetarians or even better, from vegans. There were so many now!
waynes world party time excellent waynes world party time excellent
waynes world
party time
she is hungry, but there are hungrier people. she wants to help him but doesn’t know where to get food, or at the very least food he’d like. she wants to cook, but she doesn’t remember how. its been too long since she’s cooked. it’s been too long since she’s been anything. done anything. she is lost. she needs to learn again-she has to try.
Take time to nourish your soul.
The end.
I want our global society to experience real nourishment, and then to prioritize it. I want to nourish my son, and I know the only real way I can do that is by nourishing myself. I’m not really sure I wouldn’t nourish myself the way I should without him. I’d love to be that person, but I like getting to be this, too.
I have been hoping to find someone who nourishes me. I left thinking there might be someone out there, and I have met someone… but when people are accustomed to caring for themselves… they don’t really let other people in.
As much as it bothers me that I haven’t been able to get close to anyone without hitting that border, I think that’s what I’m missing. Not having someone nourishing me. I’m talking about missing that ability to nourish myself I had back in my hell life. Self nourishment was how I survived, held on, kept from giving up until I had the strength to walk away.
Now, I have to figure out how to do that again. I can’t sit here waiting for someone to provide me with what I need. My lesson seems to be nourish myself and then I can share or exchange what I’ve ‘baked’ with someone else. Independent, sharing, caring, still us, but sharing.
Or is that just fear whispering in my head so I don’t let down my guard and let someone in again…
The small restaurant’s name was, in wooden paneling reminiscent of a TV set you would buy in the nineteen eighties – was simply “Nourish,” and when you stepped inside, the smell of sterilized linoleum and just a hint of chai would rush up to your nostrils and commence a full-on battalion assault. When I first walked into Nourish, I was in the mood for a coffee. I felt like I had stumbled into a sanitized hipster hospital.