I Have Never Known Dandelions Since Then

by Mahal Ko Kuya Ko   Apr 9, 2016


I do not deserve
to be in anyone's life,
sorry for trampling
upon yours.

You are as serene as Manila breezes
and I keep coming back to you
for some obscure reasons.

I am vague --
a paper boat on strange tides,
a poetry amidst butterfly rains
that drowns in sadness.

There's something about
late afternoon sunlight,
like it is made of poetry,
dandelions,
and the memories of you
walking away from me...

I will grow flowers
in the saddest parts of you
and write about the rain
which quenches the thirst
of the palest mountain
in your geography.
Let me be your cartographer,
and your collar bone,
my aesthetics.
I will sketch your satirical oceans,
and will let you know that
you are archipelagic in nature;
but it may take me too long to know
dandelions have died on my lonely seas...

...because of your absence.

3


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Latest Comments

  • 7 years ago

    by Brenda

    So lovely, such beautiful descriptive of lost love and nature, it just flows so smoothly. Well done-

  • 7 years ago

    by Ben Pickard

    A moving piece of poetry, written in a beautifully delicate style.

    SL

  • 8 years ago

    by Red Yoshi

    Dashiel,

    I am glad i am back and i am glad to see ypu have written a new poem :).

    Your life is complicated and you feel like you don't belong anywhere. Especially in this persons life, there seems to be a lot of guilt here. You "trampled" the daffodil in your life whom you charished dearly.

    There is always a mystery connected to someones life. Struggling against an oceans current. This is a wonderful poem, full of tragic absences. I would also like to point out a few things.

    " There's something about
    late afternoon sunlight,
    like they are made of poetry,
    dandelions,
    and the memories of you
    walking away from me..."

    ^ this stanza

    I think the word "like" throws off the flow of the sentence.

    In my opinion only,

    I would rewrite it a little and say:

    "There's something about
    late afternoon sunlight,
    dandelions are made of poetry,
    and memories of you
    walking away from me..."

    But great poem none the less :) hugs