Picking Dandelions

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  • Lost Love
    • Poetster
    • is reading poems and hopes others can return the favor with honest critique..

    Picking Dandelions

    Picking Dandelions 

    What do you think our chances are,
    I asked,
    as I picked another dandelion
    to ease the cold anxiety
    gnawing inside of me?
    A wish on a star
    never came true.
    No voice can ever tell me
    why my heart sings,
    or how badly I feel the cold
    on a sunless eve,
    or why I wipe my tears
    on my sleeve,
    or why I try to escape this existence,
    knowing I can’t live without her?
    I have looked into her eyes,
    and when they were clear,
    it was as if one could see his tomorrow.
    She was life,
    and she was mine for a brief moment.
    Now, I like to pick dandelions
    and let their wishes go,
    watching them float away,
    soaring free.

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    danmartyjake1 commented on Picking Dandelions

    08-31-2009

    Very beautiful words.. very deep. I enjoy the rhythms and cadence of your words and the anguish is very real.

    Poetster

    09/07/2009

    Thank you for reading. This is one of my favorites

    melanie23 commented on Picking Dandelions

    08-27-2009

    very nice. a reader can feel the anguish in each word. heart felt and deep. great job.

    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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