"She smells raw mangoes
and chrysanthemums,
 what a combination!                                     
                                 how exotic"
enamored city boy mused aloud,
kissing his newfound lover
a village belle,
under the shade
                    of a chattering peepal*
a  rendezvous, so elating
he could never imagine.

"They didn't pay me much
to pick the mangoes, still not ripe;
had to pluck flowers in the afternoon,
for decent wages"
                           she candidly told.

My mother once told me I was adorable.
She said so with a light smile and a soft voice.
I was young and impressionable,
And forever thought -I was adorable.

My friend once told me I was pretty.
She said so with a wide smirk and a sour tongue.
I was young and somewhat twiggy
And never thought -I was pretty.

My love tells me I am very beautiful.
He says so with a caring grin and a loving tone.
I am young and quite suitable
And often think -yes, I am beautiful.

A lot of machines
are a lot like women
you have to read the manual
and press the right buttons

Machines can have a hissy fit
just won’t work thats it
you’ve pressed the wrong button
or turned the wrong key
today machine will cause misery

But treat them right
tend to their needs
and they’ll perform day and night
machine gives out what you feed

So be a good mechanic
be your machines tonic
bring the oil
for you it will toil

but remember
and keep an eye on when
every machine
needs a service now and then

THE SIGN* arrived, with masking tape,
stuck upon the door.
                                    TRASH BAG WARNING
it yelled
(with smiley face)
                                  ~I cannot see the floor!~

A sigh was heard
- by all the house -
the sign read ALOUD, once more.

                                               CRASH  
                                                    &
                                                BANG,  
                                                soon followed it, as my Batgirl
                                                >slammed< her door!

And maybe,
there was a curse or two;
Beneath her breath   repeated.
But
life went on,
with nothing wrong &
the pile of stuff depleted!

Although,
it took the loudest hour,
'til Batgirl opened her door.
Trash bag tied   with masking tape
& 'the amended sign' re-applied

                                       "NB:
                                             Holy tidy rooms,
                                             Batgirls' done it!                          
                                             DONE & DUSTED
                                                                ­ 
  
                                           
                ­  Whilst         the P.S. made us both smile...                                                         ­        
                              
                         ­             (Obviously not literally dusted, Mum, 
                                        but even you, The Joker, can get the gist!)"

*For-given the prior scene of teenage devastation... Batgirls' reply had been superhero swift!

Upon the taking of my last breath,
I ask that no tears be shed.
Instead, I request that there be laughter,
Laughter to fill rooms and shake shoulders.
I want there to be joy upon my departure,
Joy that may follow me wherever I go.

Do not tell them the truth.
Tell them I died valiantly,
Protecting the helpless and
Playing savior for the weak

Tell them I was fearless,
Completely unafraid and unfazed
By anything that was ever placed
Obstructively in my path.

Tell them that I danced in the rain
And that I never got sick, ever in my life,
That I wrote beautiful things and
Spoke wonderful words.
Do not tell them the truth.

Or better yet, please do.

Tell them I was broken and frightened,
Pretending to be strong always.
Tell them I was a dreamer and I never woke up.

Tell them of the music I loved.
Speak of the people I greatly adored.
Tell them I was twisted, psychotic, confused
And beautifully, boastfully, blissfully so.
Tell them how I laughed as often as possible.
Explain how I never cried in the presence of others.

Tell them how I cared for others and how
I never did understand human nature.
Tell them you could never know me
Without knowing my deepest secrets.
Tell them how few people really knew me.

Tell them they are beautiful and loved
Because that’s what I would say, if I could.
Tell them goodbye and wipe their tears.

Tell the truth of my gloriously insignificant life
But only to the ones who loved me most.