If I was a fuchsia flower you’d be kind to me
Watering my spirit with kindness and dreams
As you are not a people person it seems
When you are throwing shade and yelling
How you love plants is very interesting
You fuss over them lovingly giving
Yet soon as you see your flesh and blood
How your voice changes words low as mud
If people were plants you’d grow them well
Your plant romance is amazing like a spell
You speak kindly to your beloved greenery
Saving thorns for your kids to see and eat
Is it because plants don’t talk back
Is it because they are green not black
And you’re miserable inside you lack
The pink instincts with which to stack
Grow green words that indigo inspire
Float like butterfly with flowery desire
If you have such a green thumb especially
Why inspire numbness when you talk to me
Another spring
Counting rings
No longer dark
Dog days wait, for their bark
Signaling life has been in bloom
And soon
A beautiful reality will arrive
You do not really die
Glorious sunshine
Photosynthesis dines
Fed well
From nature's magic spell
Can't you tell?
Arbor figure matures
Always sure
About wilderness’ door
No one ignores
Relaxed, whistling tunes
Branches dance and swoon
Turning everything green
Shade is an escape dream
Then things turn
Brown and burn
Chilling breeze sighs
Giving a ride
To the foliage who occupy
Twigs ready to say goodbye
Fall scheduled to begin
Giving the end
A win
Low temperatures chattering bite
Haunting the cool night
Crumbled leafs descend
Crinkling no bend
Completing their beauty rein
Realizing it's just a plants game
Meeting with the rake
Realizing the bag is ready to take
Them to the disposable bin
No need to call a next of kin
Since they will be shred
Rip and dead
Until spring
And another ring
Appears
Exclaiming the tree is here
Giving a reason
To celebrate each season
Letting the seeds
Do their deed
And grow more trees
Bird mouth on the brain sells
plump unstately bucked up
matters of actual o-
bligatory occurrences at
Owl's Creaky Bridge where
forageable items can
spawn like people squeezing
elf-aware and clammy chowdered
clown adults from
rubes off courting blots of
nightingale PM firenze
crushed and all mixed up be-
between a frequent
moving stream of
freebies wheeling in a
west virginian's mother mar-
ried pupward to a
shapeless clumping mob or timely
hunk stoned sober old and sentient fac-
tory molding
silver fish resigned to meet-
ing parties all aligned and
drawn from quarters pound-
ed into minds repeated over
bendless queasy headed eggs a-
top the Falling Garden Wall.
nefarious nightshade
the forgotten bitterroot
rebel camphorweed
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • July 13–19, 2026)
Flowers
A humid day
Plants must be safe
Protected from the sunshine
In shade
fantasy flowers grew all over this fantastical field
we never knew what kind of creativity this plot would yield
these were pastel, but others might glow neon-like in the sun
this enchanted garden had been planted by a miraculous one
A Wiccan who had a magic touch with everything green
Her advice was sought by peons, gardeners, landscapers and queen
She knew everything about growing, her thumb was better than most
Humble and helpful, best of all, this woman never would boast.
(“Feed Your Head Merit Badge”, 2011, original oil)
I love plants,
Possibly simply because they are green,
But certainly because they breathe in
My CO2 exhaust and out the O2 I crave.
Mostly I just love the way they look
And grow, and fill up
All available space
With more of their soothing green.
I can imagine a world of only plants
But not one of only animals.
Of course it’s easy to imagine one without either
But that’s not a very inviting one.
This world is inviting though
Because of all those plants
And it’s inviting specifically to animals.
But that’s just our perspective.
Of course we think we’re great
But to plants
We’re just something that evolved
To help them.
I love plants, and can imagine a world
Of them and only them.
We wouldn’t be there to enjoy it of course
And maybe that would be okay.
But I think the plants would miss us
Since they evolved us, after all, to spread
Nourish, nurture and appreciate them
In all their sturdy, stalky, wavy greenness glory.
(5/20/26)
Spring, as the first rays fall on frozen ground
The dew glistening in the early morning sun
And below ground the green curl begins
As heat from the astronomers source
Penetrates the distant land
The budding fern begins her journey
Long fallen autumnal foliage
Settled over winter under snow
Degraded now, brings new life
Nurture the ground, replenishing
Restoring natures balance to the soil
For new life to spring as the seasons forge ahead
The summer showers to moisten and some
The thirsts of long sun-soaked days
Restoring, verdant and texture as fronds unfurl
To sway in autumnal breezes, as earth cools
Damp in the air denotes the coming fall
Mists lay on meadows as nights draw in
Finally the green fades, dried and darker
Winter wind flurries and rustles the tendrils
All visible growth now returning to earth
Yet as the winter rages, snow and ice
Below the soil the fern she waits, patiently
Until the sun once more penetrates the soil in spring.
Eleven years ago,
while rambling in my car
along the bank of Iril river
at Kongpal Moirangpurel,
a serene countryside
I spied Ureirom plants growing there,
their flowers blooming.
Long ago in our agrarian society
their fruits dyed women’s clothes pink -
done indigenously in every household
by the womenfolk.
Now the old art has faded
year by year with time
and the plants, once grown
in abundance are no longer seen.
Next day, in scattering showers,
with a camera I went there
and captured photographs
of the plants long unseen,
wondering how they grew there
while absent elsewhere.
Today, after eleven years,
when I strolled there again
the ureirom plants were gone
among the riverbank’s weeds -
Once women’s favorite,
now out of fashion,
neglected, nowhere to be seen.
Like the sun’s celestial smile
Beaming yellow happy rays
Across bubbly lovely clouds
Hear the children at play
Spring break is happening
Animals seem to know
Even plants are laughing
Blooming in the wind a glow
Spring has sprung a leak
Everyone seems so relieved
For weary of the winter breeze
Forgetting Jack Frost’s freeze
NEW DATE APRIL 6
LET’S TRY THIS ONE JUST FOR KICKS
TRUMP IS IN A FIX
From ancient roots, life surges through his veins
to feed the Lord of Sequoia fame.
Bursting through clouds with arms raised to God,
he honors his Maker who seeded him in sod.
Awestruck men gawk in wondrous delight,
their eyes fixed upon this marvel of might.
Storms rage through woods, seeking timber to slay—
a fruitless endeavor, for the General won’t sway.
An untruth is told
A seed is planted
My body is the soil
The roots infest my veins
The seedling sprouts
I’m overgrown with
Weeds
Tell a not lie
Planted is a seed
Soil is my body
My veins become the roots
A sprouting seedling
I’m a flowering
Garden
Split me in half
Save the flowers
Take the weeds
That strangles me
Uproot them all
My veins scream
The garden is gone
And the weeds left a scar
I’m just unplanted soil.
66.
Plants and Animals of Earth
Earth is evergreen
With plants surrounding
Often medicine
To flesh corrupting
Earth is always round
With faunas roaming
Free, settled, bound
Eco they're balancing
Plants and animals
Without them we're gone
They're here before us
They must not be gone.
-11/27/2011
(Dumarao)
*First Incubus Collection
The Gardener tends to his Plants.
The Plants are unaware of him.
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