A corm, bulbo-tuber, or bulbotuber is a short, vertical, swollen underground plant stem that serves as a storage organ used by some plants to survive winter or other adverse conditions such as summer drought and heat (perennation).
The word cormous is used to describe plants growing from corms, in analogy to the use of the terms "tuberous" and "bulbous" to describe plants growing from tubers and bulbs.
A corm consists of one or more internodes with at least one growing point, generally with protective leaves modified into skins or tunics. The tunic of a corm is formed from dead petiole sheaths, remnants of leaves produced in previous years. They act as a covering, protecting the corm from insects, digging animals, flooding, and water loss. The tunics of some species are thin, dry, and papery, at least in young plants, however, in some families, such as Iridaceae, the tunic of a mature corm can be formidable protection. For example, some of the larger species of Watsonia accumulate thick, rot-resistant tunics over a period of some years; the product is a structure of tough, reticulated fibre. Other species, such as many in the genus Lapeirousia, have tunics of hard, woody layers.
Carbon monoxide-releasing molecules (CO-RMs) are chemical compounds that release controlled amounts of carbon monoxide (CO) to cells and tissues and are being developed as potential therapeutic agents. Although long recognized as a poison, CO also exhibits beneficial effects in small doses. These effects include anti-inflammatory activity, vasodilatation, and cardioprotection. CO is produced in mammals during the degradation of heme by heme oxygenase-1, a redox-sensitive enzyme induced by oxidative stress. It is this enzymatic reaction that inspired the development of synthetic CO-RMs.
Synthetic CO-RMs are typically metal carbonyl complexes. A representative CO-RM that has been extensively characterized both from a biochemical and pharmacological view point is the ruthenium(II) complex Ru(glycinate)Cl(CO)3, also known as CORM-3.
Land of treason-waste no reason-
we are breathing fire
We're packs of dogs-
we're enemies of men-we are not desired
Our face show-
we've grown cold-but
have not conspired
Old hearts gone-
the future's on-mother nations mired
I like a recepticle for the chosen dead,
we find our bodies clawed
And with the scent of death,
we find that we are not so very awed
Loyalties burned-
the words our blurred-overturn your own
Walk like dogs and watch the doors-
have your other stone
Stop the toys that match disordered-
calculate the thrones
Feel the pulse descending-
decaying hallowed tomes
In the starving sense you worship-
the nations of debris
You wear a cost of sewage-
that you've never ever seen
The time is now-the vicious here-
a stolen dinner code
The license of the savage land-
that you've always sold
So bite the hand that needs you
and bless another coal
The virus never issues-
from a cotton so very old
As the lights come down
You wash your hands and start to climb
the ladder that you stole
Slip the hatch-and spin the sword-
the money lords are poor
Push the tan-that rolls downhill-
their sense of dream absorbed
Still the cat that breaks the night-
tie him to the core
Chase the viruses that believe-
that what's right is scored
It's a senseless cash in of right for right-
what's wrong is never gone
And left is just a bassion for the fools