📌Biocombustibles: ¿solución climática o desastre ecológico?
carabanchel.net/biocombustib...
#Carabanchel #Madrid #VIDEOS #biocombustibles #combustiblesrenovables #desastreecológico #ILUC #materiasprimas #palmaalasoja #POME #soluciónclimática
Diplodia-Arten an Apfelbäumen (Malus domestica) mit Schwarzem Rindenbrand in einer Streuobstwiese in der Oberlausitz
#Ascomycota
#Diplodia
#pathogen
#pome
#systematics
#wood
nfgol.de/sites/defaul...
www.zfk.de/energie/gas/...
👉 www.bundesumweltministerium.de/fileadmin/Da...
#Biogas #Treibhausgasminderungsquote #THG #CO2 #REDIII #RFNBO #POME #Gesetzentwurf #Energiegesetze #Energiewirtschaft
むちコロなポメラニアンがお座りをしているところをAIに毛糸刺繍風にしてもらった
#AI #pomeranian
#ポメラニアン #Pome
うちのイヌイヌイッヌドッグの横顔を毛糸刺繍風に変換してもらった〜
I am alive
And sleep deprived
Since I am here
I'll persevere.
#SmallPoems #Poetry #Pome
POME Emerges as Champion in the Exciting WBSC eBaseball™ Series 2025 #Japan #Tokyo #WBSC #eBaseball #POME
POME選手が制したeスポーツ世界大会「WBSC eBaseball™ シリーズ 2025」の魅力 #eスポーツ #WBSCパワプロ #POME
WBSC eBaseball™ シリーズ2025でPOME選手が優勝！ 世界中の強豪が集結した大会での熱戦の模様と選手のコメントをお届けします。
Me2. But I’m stuck. To poor to buy citizenship elsewhere and no family kinship in another country that still honors that. #PoMe
Rose hip
Apples and rose are related morphologically and genetically. Taxonomy places them in the family Rosaceae. The apple’s pome is formed by expansion of tissue at the base of its flower. Genetic changes makes the pome swell and make sugars , whilst based on the rose hip #taxonomy #Rosaceae #pome
Predictive Modelling of H2S Removal from Biogas Generated from POME 🌴 Using a Biological Scrubber in an Industrial Biogas Plant 🏭: Integration of ANN and Process Simulation
www.ftb.com.hr/.../1936-pre....
#Bioscrubber #POME #SDG7 #SDG9 #SDG12 #SDG13 #BiogasSolutions #ArtificialNeuralNetworks
![Welcome Home, Shining Pome | [TEA TIME] Doronko Wanko - Full Game](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:4nz3jbkizmvspew5ao2r3nxi/bafkreictoqeluhnyymvlchi5rlslyofkkj6ljwpjv2k2qk3owipclvjysm)
If you haven't been exposed to this game yet, then you'll want to take a look. This is a delightful game of making a house as messy as possible as a cute doggo!
youtu.be/537kj6wF6Uc
#gamecommentary #letsplay #walkthrough #funny #gaming #chill #doronkowanko #free #steam #short #pome
#SAF #HVO Der globale Markt für Low-Carbon Bio-Feedstocks wie #UCO oder #POME wird immer enger und teurer werden, da die Zahl nationaler SAF-Mandate wächst. Umso dringlicher ist der rasche Ausbau der europäischen Produktion von #E-Fuels für den #Flugverkehr und den #Seeverkehr.
Screenshot of poem with small photo of daffodils in dull garden border. Text: If Wordsworth Were Alive Today I couldn’t be bothered shuffling around like a zombie with attitude, in a huff. Of shivering blossom and avian sounds, and wheezing leaves, I’d had enough When, to put a tin hat on it, came into view Myriad daffodils hurting my eyes, Each listlessly trumpeting on its kazoo Like tuneless infants encouraged by lies. The dog walkers gave their dirty looks. White vans speeded, swerving the humps. By garden walls festooned with books, Nobody cares for those yellow frumps. Ah come on now I’m only winding you up, There are worse things in life than flowers. Beeloved of bee, not unscented to pup, They give we poets some buzzy hours.
Daffodils - if Wordsworth were alive today. Snippet:
...When, to put a tin hat on it, came into view
Myriad daffodils hurting my eyes,
Each listlessly trumpeting on its kazoo
Like tuneless infants encouraged by lies...
stephenmoransmuseumofillusions.wordpress.com/2025/03/11/i... #pome
How’s this for a #DailyHaikiPrompt: use the words “blue” and “safety pin”
A blue sky sails by
tenderly held together,
one safety pin.
(I might have to paint something for this one)
#haiku #micropoetry #pome #poetsky
I thought I recalled #pome was product of my environment. The Duke roster takes their cues from Scheyer & Coop, it’s very wild what Flagg is at 18. If anyone can get by on their shoulder chips it’s those two & by proxy this team. I’ll be curious to see them in a tourney format even in this ACC
Clemson always tough at Littlejohn but your talent level is much better. MSG is Cameron North as you know. Ask Malik with #POME stands for. Always on his IG story. No clue what that is.
"I feel so alone, dear , inside this room crowded with people and a silence I hardly know."
Ps. I'm fine, I just like to write sometimes. #write #quote #pome #text
one me is the positive expression the other is the negative expression third is the root, body itself they're all here at once sometimes endless stream of unseen enemies locked into the science of maintaining proceeded to move loaf from fridge to cupboard, and there found banana, its stem i did break, revealing the methodical avenue with which to, dragging, shear it and then i remembered the preachers of yore acting out parables of virtue and intention i saw myself picking butts out of the flower pot, and though i did not find much, i smoked it anyway. retrogradation of starch is a reaction that takes place when the amylose and amylopectin chains in cooked, gelatinized starch realign themselves as cooked starch cools, like my intent in my attempt to crystallize the unreunderstood and made some peace heavy on me, trying to shoulder it it might best be to focus on the growth, instead of product, and why we need it; it's the only way we'll finish anything, 'cause otherwise the road will be too far, and we'll get lost in the wildness, disintegrated and exhumed
edited last one down, better #pome
![one me is the positive expression of my body-mind's emotions;
the other is the negative expression i persuade to hold it in.
third is the root, body itself, nerve-bones and tissue-blood,
and they're all here at once sometimes, often to argue, soothe
some endless stream of unseen enemies invading from the moon.
locked into the science of maintaining the freshness of bread,
proceeded to move loaf from fridge to cupboard, no counter [ ]
and there found a banana, which i felt happy to peel, and ate;
yea, its stem i did break, and snap it did beneath my fingers
revealing the methodical avenue with which to dragging shear it
and then i remembered the banana self-help preachers of yore
acting out parables of virtue and intention, dragging metal
into the frame i saw you picking butts out of the flower-pot,
and you did not find much, but you tried to smoke it anyway.
and retrogradation of starch is a reaction that takes place
when the amylose and amylopectin chains in cooked, gelatinized
starch realign themselves as cooked starch cools, okay cool,
like my intent, in my attempt to crystallize the unreunderstood
and made some peace, roomate stew porch ramblings after rolling
the world's smallest blunt for myself from a wet cigarette butt:
"we don't have to wake the mule," he said,
"we only have to load the cart."
my words not far apart, the prompt for this was
all this stressing brings no healing, and i still feel it.
heavy on me, tryin to shoulder it. about the garden pit, i said,
it might be best to focus on the cultivation and the growth,
instead of the edible final product, and why we need it;
it's the only way i've ever been to finish things,
'cause otherwise my mind resorts to roaming too far,
and a bit too wide, and i get lost in the wideness,
pulled apart, almost disintegrated, like those carrots
in your stew, as my delicate nose i blew in dirty napkin;
black ash of exhaled smoke again accumulated and removed](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:d5dpd4sqik6stbmlljcij77q/bafkreifjy5fcuavwg5ttvyocoi652oosomgrgfpy7zx7uniam2qu2eeu2a)
one me is the positive expression of my body-mind's emotions; the other is the negative expression i persuade to hold it in. third is the root, body itself, nerve-bones and tissue-blood, and they're all here at once sometimes, often to argue, soothe some endless stream of unseen enemies invading from the moon. locked into the science of maintaining the freshness of bread, proceeded to move loaf from fridge to cupboard, no counter [ ] and there found a banana, which i felt happy to peel, and ate; yea, its stem i did break, and snap it did beneath my fingers revealing the methodical avenue with which to dragging shear it and then i remembered the banana self-help preachers of yore acting out parables of virtue and intention, dragging metal into the frame i saw you picking butts out of the flower-pot, and you did not find much, but you tried to smoke it anyway. and retrogradation of starch is a reaction that takes place when the amylose and amylopectin chains in cooked, gelatinized starch realign themselves as cooked starch cools, okay cool, like my intent, in my attempt to crystallize the unreunderstood and made some peace, roomate stew porch ramblings after rolling the world's smallest blunt for myself from a wet cigarette butt: "we don't have to wake the mule," he said, "we only have to load the cart." my words not far apart, the prompt for this was all this stressing brings no healing, and i still feel it. heavy on me, tryin to shoulder it. about the garden pit, i said, it might be best to focus on the cultivation and the growth, instead of the edible final product, and why we need it; it's the only way i've ever been to finish things, 'cause otherwise my mind resorts to roaming too far, and a bit too wide, and i get lost in the wideness, pulled apart, almost disintegrated, like those carrots in your stew, as my delicate nose i blew in dirty napkin; black ash of exhaled smoke again accumulated and removed
#pome (nevermind the filename; I got distracted by poem-writing after opening a new file to write something else)
above a blend of pale blue-greens and pink-red swish, a photo of the back of a digital camera, backlit, showing only the engraved and embossed shaping of its upper surface; above this a virtual terminal sits, running the helix text editor and displaying a short poem, the filename of which is "revered.md": i just keep picturing Olympic synchronized swimming that i saw on a color 22" 4:3 tv at my mom's house as a reluctant schoolboy in the 1990s, every day TV; it sat on top of the comparatively massive prior CRT that died and never got removed, repurposed as a subtle dust grey floor mirror, VCR and VHS cassette tape shelf met you in a time and space divided from reality, wouldn't know you 'til from that space i did part; always revere you, and the way you wear your heart; sometimes to this day i wear my collar round my neck, sometimes upon on my head, over my assaulted ears: you paid for these without a moment's question, and i find its gentle weight above my spine can bring me thankful inner peace, almost a feeling of security, between your teeth; these headphones, no, earmuffs, they carry me, from my desk to my bed, about my daily business and attempts stave off being dead or split apart, seams bursting; it's no wonder when you speak to me through my soft earbuds tucked beneath this clasp with which your infinite eternal loving kindness claimed me, calmed me, soothed my ache; you claim me, i love your wavelength that keeps crashing, washing my stone body of dry wood on rocky shore.
game design ideas in a poem: okay. first off. i'm logically incompetent and never sure how I survived to this moment but it needs a high level of customization, cheaply made original polygonal art assets, minimal memes and pop culture, a place of creation appealing to writers, performers, and look-makers, minimalist player-editable online hangout spaces, and everyone has ball joints (art budget decision). not focused on combat, more about crafting and gathering, expanding upon the side-play of making fashion, beauty and makeup, styling hair, and generally having a fun time being silly, cute, creative, and expressive with friends in virtual environments on the screens behind which we so many hours of our lives live if combat, completely optional and sequestered into a specific place. a couple different input and feedback styles offering different experiences, allowing players to choose between a souls style, MMO style, or an auto-resolving combat style (an idling-driven progress layer) dolls possess and manipulate two forms: the form of the doll, and the form of dreaming and imagination. in dream form, dolls can take on different styles of appearance freely, and perform everything the doll form can, better. the doll form is significantly more limited, and represents a different experience. in this metaphor for those who spend most of their time in virtual worlds perhaps i am the imagined form, and the virtual the doll my form inhabits; now reversed, during our waking hours, sometimes going too to sleep: if not for reality, what would become of dream
oops forgot alt text #pome
weren't so afraid to breathe with you around, to resonate those strings inside of me. and how i found out, funny, first time you serenade me, started iron out my kinks and change me. li'l better or a little worse, don't matter and don't need explainin', tired of stayin' same alla time. said a li'l love can bring a li'l rain and change things up, sometimes, an' save me. not like i needed saved, nor bit tongues of complaint, time time, and now again, a: little pleasure, little pain, enough's enough to click, rephrase, a few things crooked in a brain, or enough to slow up my decay; you saw me, and you weren't afraid. what else can crazy say? and why? said don't ask why, sometimes there is no other way. you picked me up with an impromptu invitation and i can't forget the way you showed me honest love can reach beyond, above the sneeze-guard at this bitch buffet; reminding me, sometimes, and i'll remind you better, pending first another little cry; shit, look at the time. it's time again to harvest this saltwater from my eyes; it's time again to stop ask why, reframe, engage this, drive. in love with this lesbian man, one week, three words intelligible, check this shit out, are you recording? one week, three words, already said i do
fresh sheets, dryer-hot pair of skinny jeans fresh lover, preparing her sheepskin for me weared little bell this time, thrust-jingling until I went outside to breathe; old man caught sight me up the street, and cleared his throat so disapprovingly; cute dog, though, it sniffed my feet, and he gazed off disgusted, wishing ever so silently he were me, fucked-fresh and wobbly knees hehe
[save me from this mess of wordspill] #pome
[database said error, we could not retrieve]
[please make another effort to believe in me]
i'm burning wake up burning drenched in stale sweat filthing it i'm burning up inside alive i'm burning up hung over hot flash symptoms of menopause exact align, and why some queen i am can't tap back in pharmacy's closed, can't afford again, doctor's phone, unplugged again, hardly afford to eat let alone walk the streets alone confused afraid of repetition of depraved conditions, now i spin on empty whim, stomach empty again, and why? some queen i am one tap run dry felt like a die cast on two sides one seven, one two, no consequence of laughter other than the split of sides my body swiftly finds the sweat of him, rat down the stair, a hero once, in anger, now my cry scares him, amid the morning vapor, took a mourning spit to dead leaves churn again i also anger, hungry, some queen
june woke up and wrote then ames took control and angry flowed at us so much while cooking up a meat and egg and i cried so much i love him but he knows everything and keeps it inside i feel like death dw i will not die, I found her sobbing on the couch, intermittent ouch like we ate up the undercooked ground beef and cried so much again he goed away again she goes away alone again a little bug stupid and trying to pick up the reins again my broken love this life no way he said no way up only down like sound of water trickle low waste water that's my soul untied unbuckled like they both let go nothing but tv snow broke knick knacks table of no jumping only jacks, pinpricks of caltrops scattered that, repent the cyclops gathered up my name sea dragon cursed my ass again
"Pick up the phone, pick up the phone," voice-dial, love will never answer this, "I love you, ratbitch. Sorry I keep missing it; you off your meds again? I'll find you, stay alive; you got this," to replay this message please press nine and I will find you then, lost in the undergrowth like when I dropped my keys, and only you could scry them, seven hours freefrom flashlight hidden eye, I spied, you crouching in a ditch, taking a shit; poor thing, just knock again, I'll answer; you don't deserve it, but I know I'm responsible, I slayed your master; your silent goddess, did you ask her this? still stuck on read with no reply, ghost love cast aftermath disaster girl you're crushing it
true story #poems
and I miss her #poem
never kissed again #pome
lesbian bliss three weeks
#I'mStillMissingYou
#FindMeInYourBookmarkedPages
#AndRemindMeWhyWeFight
sing this Katherine
I still miss you so much
my dark-haired shepherd
find me, I will never quit
#ThisLandmassShapedByTears
and whiskeydrip
Do you often find old poems that you initially don't remember writing, but when you read them, you are flooded with every emotion you had at the time?
Rediscovered Words and Feelings…
#poetry #pome #poet #writingcommunity #journal
A red-fleshed pear
Red-fleshed apple cider in a small wine tasting glass
Red-fleshed Otterson apple
Still one of my most favorite traits to find in #pome fruit #redflesh
#redfleshedapple #redfleshedpear #otterson #apple #pear #cider #rosé
US 794039-004 pears on a tree
First post on #bluesky figured I’d share our most advanced #pear selection!
#plantbreeding #pome #fruit
![psychic timetrav'l'r [Alawen]](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/avatar/plain/did:plc:d5dpd4sqik6stbmlljcij77q/bafkreidqm7quj4imazztbg7ij2mwhodad5dwe6ev7cm44okp5g5joixjqi)
