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a rumor is circulating in gardening circles
on the continent of England
the said rumor has traveled along a long vine
to the down under land

we the vegetable growers of Brisbane
are very disturbed about what we've heard
to us the rumor sounds rather absurd

we've taken it upon ourselves
to send a letter to the British Garden Society
asking them if the rumor has any propriety

sometimes a story
can be misrepresented
especially when the details of it
aren't correctly presented
we're seeking clarification
from those who have the right oil
as to whether the rumor
has any truth in the soil

this is the rumor that has been doing the rounds
and it relates to the High Grove grounds
a Yorkshire man who was sight seeing there
has said that he saw Charles the regal heir
talking to the garden slugs and snails
whilst walking amid the lettuce and kale
we know that his highness loves chatting to the trees
and he's often spoken to the earthworms and bees

we're totally confounded to hear of him
talking to garden pests
and we're hoping of this behavior
the Prince will soon divest
Our very existence
                   is a question that
                    nobody can answer.

Is that scary

         or beautiful..?
Inspired by a lot of questions I've been asking myself lately and a book titled "Sophie's World"
Can't find
your Jimi Hendrix
tee-shirt;

I liked it
when you wore it
last year;

the whole 60s image
fitted you well,
your laid back stance,

the beard, moustache,
the humour sharp,
but not unkind.

We looked
for the Hendrix
tee-shirt everywhere,

but couldn't find.
You were my Stoic
philosopher;

I thought you
immortal
to a degree,

the one
who would outlast
us all,

be the one
to arrange us
from this

mortal coil,
but you went first,
death stole you twice,

the second time
for good,
the final kiss

and goodbye,
my son,
watching you die.
A FATHER CONVERSES WITH HIS DEAD SON.
 Apr 2014 Mahima Gupta
AprilDawn
Modest beauties
whose creamily dabbed
orange, pink
and
yellow blossoms
despite tender care
rendered
died this spring
a speckled lizard
lurks inside
their empty talavera ***
next to the cheap blue
sun umbrella
that blows over
with every breeze.
Roses my daughter  tended in our  Houston  'burbs  garden.We  dealt with our share of  plant deaths  .
 Apr 2014 Mahima Gupta
r
She hides her smile
behind black lipstick.
Her voice is low
and in between.
She smells of loneliness
and cigarettes.
She sings for me
when she is high.

She gets me higher
than I can go.
She takes me low
and in between.
Her heart's on fire
when she sings.
Her voice is smokey,
full of pain.

She sings of loneliness
and broken dreams.
Her dance is low
and in between.
She gets me high
and lets me down.
She kisses me
with black lipstick.

r ~ 4/29/14
\•/\  
   |        
  /\
A spittoon!
onlookers
look confused;
it speaks
a dead language.
from the musky mist
of anonymous readers,
all takers of low repute,
stopper-by's on a voyage of
self pleasuring

I give you my pain,
my infrequent joy,
my five sensory historical compilation
of voyeuring into
a multi-felled, a multi-celled
organism

and u can't lift a finger
to acknowledge
your presence

here is my rule of opposable thumbs,
Mary Elizabeth,
read not the last line,
read not the last chapter
like a novel,
a cheap way,
a teenage way to
decide what to read

if you read a poem all the way thru,
top to bottom,
if it holds you enough to make you
go thru
the whole of a body of art,
if you hated it or loved it,
or just sniff indiff

the mere fact that it held you
the mere fact that you held it,
means that in some manner
you liked it, or it captured
your lazy eye

so don't be a lazy ****,
click the like button,
otherwise
you are just a john or a *****

did you like that last line?
2:48 am
cleaning out my files
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