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Positronics Seeds - Purple Haze #1

Purple Haze #1

Constructed from Mexican, South Indian and Thai variety up until the '70, this plant posseses an incredible resin development. Deliver a clear and energetic high.

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Positronics Seeds - Blue Rhino

Blue Rhino Seeds

Blue Rhino is the outcome of careful selection among numerous plants from a classical breeding procedure that makes positive that simply one of the most powerful and exquisite hybrids more knowledgeable growers were demanding.

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Positronics Seeds

Positronics

One of the first of the Holland seed breeders, Positronics has earned a solid and respected reputation. Positronics set out with the mission of ensuring that home growing supplies were available to everyone.

POET'S CORNER

Discussion in 'Poet's Cafe' started by nigel, Apr 6, 2009.

  1. Offline

    Bonesnoff

    Dr. Seuss on dope (my impression)

    I picked a flower for you the other day
    along came the government and took it away
    they said it'd make you dumb and make you go crazy
    it'll make you get fat and it'll make you lazy

    I picked a flower for you the other day
    along came a hippy and looked every which way
    I love those flowers, I smoke em all day
    But you're lucky they only took your flowers away

    I grew those flowers for people one day
    the government burst in, took them AND my house away
    shot my granma shot my dog "hero's work" the newsmen play
    But a here's a lil secret... flowers are good if WE THE PEOPLE say...

    (needs work)
    5 people like this.
  2. Offline

    gimmikk

    Dove , please fly away
    for thou shalt not have to bear witness
    to the ending of this new day.




    short n sweet. wrote when i was a kid in one of my rehab stints . is about nuclear destruction.
    and the Dove was the beautiful girl who was always sitting across from me during our NA meetings.
    :wiggle:
    2 people like this.
  3. Offline

    GrowMeds gc staff is still the best

    I came.
    I planted.
    I stoned myself.


    lmao
    3 people like this.
  4. Offline

    Mr B the village idiot

    There once was a man called McB
    Who travelled from across the sea.
    He sure loved to toke tho finding some a joke,
    It's why a grower he'll be.

    He took a small seed
    In the hope to grow weed
    Watered it and cared for it
    And now waits patiently.

    :D
    3 people like this.
  5. Offline

    Duner Ficticious

    Stories

    All things must first have their start to end
    Think of the people you now can call friend
    And all the memories that you've made and shared
    The laughs you've laughed and the pains you've bared

    The unspoken truths shared between friends
    Like the unspoken truth of our untimely ends
    Drifting apart to perhaps never again
    Be seen in this lifetime with one we've called friend

    But the memories of these times won't fade
    As you could never forget where your stories were made
    One day without question you'll run into eachother
    And laugh about times you spent laughing together

    Though your memories now only exist
    In the minds of those you've called friends
    As long as you each remember those times
    Your time never truely ends

    All things to end must first have their start
    But even time can't pull your stories apart.

    - By me.
    4 people like this.
  6. Offline

    nigel 'pot poet outlaw'

    Frosted Fingers - a dark bedtime story.

    Gino was not a bad man, he had just made some bad decisions sometimes. This problem floating obstinately in front of him, was a case in point. He of all people should know ice floats.

    He had always wanted to be someone, but when you look like the butt of a camel and are always overweight, when the world conspires to be there first, when even your family think you are a loser, and the list went on. Gino had a long appendixed list of everything and everyone, that had him huddling in the dark, trying to make ice sink.

    His childhood was a trial of taunts and ridicule, just passed exams and dreams of escape to some imagined idyllic adulthood. Reality was after an hour long ceremony, he was hussled through a door into more scorn. Marks not high enough for college, not low enough to be a rebel, a lower middle class grind of servitude to the wage beckoned.

    In a rare stroke of luck, his father won a substantial sum on the lottery. In an even rarer display of fatherly affection, he gave his son $5000 dollars. Rareness comes in threes, because Gino had a good idea how to spend it. [jump]
    2 people like this.
  7. Offline

    OleMan Cabinet Gardener

    THE OUTHOUSE POEM

    The service station trade was slow
    The owner sat around,
    With sharpened knife and cedar stick
    Piled shavings on the ground.
    No modern facilities had they,
    The log across the rill
    Led to a shack, marked His and Hers
    That sat against the hill.
    "Where is the ladies restroom, sir?"
    The owner leaning back,
    Said not a word but whittled on,
    And nodded toward the shack.
    With quickened step she entered there
    But only stayed a minute,
    Until she screamed, just like a snake
    Or spider might be in it.
    With startled look and beet red face
    She bounded through the door,
    And headed quickly for the car
    Just like three gals before.
    She missed the foot log - jumped the stream
    The owner gave a shout,
    As her silk stockings, down at her knees
    Caught on a sassafras sprout.
    She tripped and fell - got up, and then In obvious disgust,
    Ran to the car, stepped on the gas,
    And faded in the dust.
    Of course we all desired to know
    What made the gals all do
    The things they did, and then we found
    The whittling owner knew.
    A speaking system he'd devised
    To make the thing complete,
    He tied a speaker on the wall
    Beneath the toilet seat.
    He'd wait until the gals got set
    And then the devilish tike,
    Would stop his whittling long enough,
    To speak into the mike.
    And as she sat, a voice below
    Struck terror, fright and fear,
    "Will you please use the other hole,
    We're painting under here!"

    Peace
    OleMan
    3 people like this.
  8. Offline

    nigel 'pot poet outlaw'

    jump to beat cyberclock

    Gino had of course tried to better himself and appearance over the years, from comic magazine build your muscle devices, to special hair removal creams to deal with the tufts of black fur that covered his body, to special concoctions and drinks with health giving properties. He was an expert on people trying to improve themselves, realised the market for something that was healthy; fruit juice was the answer.

    He wished this frozen caricature of a human he was trying to sink was fruit juice; she would thaw a lot quicker. That was the beauty of his Frosted Fingers, they melted in your mouth.

    Gino had started small, attending the local markets, sporting functions, any gathering of humans in fact, would see him lurking with his bicycle and little trailer esky. He was blessed with a year round warm climate, the novelty of fruit juice on a stick and a zealousness with saving money that saw him prosper.

    The freezer in the backshed became a shed with walk in coolrooms and waist high chest freezer units along the wall, his bike became a van and his bicycle vendors still attended any public event. He got the fruit concentrate cheap, water was cheap, so even with the amount of energy taken freezing the profit margin on his healthy refreshments was huge.

    He wasn't someone yet, but he was at least becoming a local identity, 'the Frosted Finger guy'. His employees were cheap, underage wannabees working for a pittance per hour. That was funny in a way. This particular employee bobbing slightly lower in the water, could cost him everything and make him a national identity. jump
  9. Offline

    nigel 'pot poet outlaw'

    and

    Smart mouth from the start, he knew she might be trouble, but sometimes the smart asses with a quick smile were the best sellers of Frosted Fingers; so he had initially ignored her insolence. After a week and having found a rather unflattering cartoon of himself as a 'hairy freak', that he knew she was behind, sales mattered little as he wanted her gone.

    In truth his uppity employee reminded him of his wife before she got fat and bitter, back when she was thin, loud and confident. Back when, just for a fleeting moment, Gino's life had been good. Before the organic people, the Council suits and this wretched juvenile ice cube conspired to destroy him.

    His wife had appeared like a dream one day, an understudy sent by an accountant who was too busy to deal with a hairy little popsicle seller. She, having seen the profit margin and the potential of a fruit based product in a get healthy society, decided to marry him. Gino having long since resigned himself to a life of solitude, accepted on the spot.

    He was blind to her naked avarice and preoccupation with 'helping the business'. He understood that she felt it better they not have sex, for fear of having children before they had established thier empire. He was in love and had someone who shared his dream of a Frosted Finger nationwide franchise. Just being in the presence was enough, a faithful lapdog to her whims, sustained by the odd passing carress of his fur or kind word.

    And they had almost made it, were just taking the first step by setting up freezers in an adjoining town, when the organic people came. Probably another reason he had not liked his ice encased nemesis; she said she was vegan and wanted to save the whales. jump
  10. Offline

    nigel 'pot poet outlaw'

    skidding across cyberspace

    Gino wished a damned whale would come up the river and swallow her, but then he was the Jonah, so it would probably swallow him. Like the shark eyed organic man who had walked into the shed one day, opened his mouth and swallowed his life whole. Or rather what followed did. Chewed up, spat out and blown away.

    'Do you use real fruit?'

    No hello or introduction, just a question. Hungry shark eyes followed thier hairy prey , as Gino straightened from polishing the Frosted Finger logo on one of the chest freezers.

    'We have orange, apple, blackberry...'

    Shark snap, 'But is it real fruit?'

    'Well originally, but of course it is dried so we can mix it with water and freeze it. It is a very advanced process...'

    'So basically you are selling flavoured water, whereas the Frozen Fruit Treats I am selling, are made of one hundred per cent fruit.'

    'Your Frozen...' was as far as Gino got, as his uninvited guest proceeded to describe how his organic fruit empire was branching out into frozen refreshments. Growing thier own fruit meant they were going to undercut him by fifty per cent, being organic made them healthier than him and they apparently had a fleet of eco friendly vans. Gino's face probably had the same white, frozen expression his slowly sinking companion had.

    'Oh well, just thought I would say hello, or rather goodbye. I can't imagine your Frosted Fingers are going to stand a chance against my Frozen Fruit Treats, but that's just business, nothing personal. Good luck.' And out he sauntered, leaving Gino standing stunned, confused and a little bit angry, but powerless as usual to do anything about it. jump
    1 people like this.

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