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basil Mar 28
the knives that slit the dandelions from your fingers
cut into my sleep and burn the insides of my eyelids black
i know it isn't the same hurt, but that hurts more
all i wanted was to paint your fingertips gold
but they bleed red rose petals in my nightmares and
wake me too late

the memories draping over your face like a bridal veil
don't hide your tears from me
please let me take them from your head
your past has an ugly face
full of broken promises that made a little girl grow old too fast
don't keep your pain in your pockets in place of your dandelions

i know this is why i learned how to sew
at the time i thought it was so i could quilt my thoughts together
in a way that made sense
but seeing your bleeding fingers in my dreams made me realize
that my needle wasn't for the fabric i bought
it was for skin and bone and bleeding hearts that mean more to me than gold
i'll fight your demons with my fists as long as you promise to wear the flower crown i made you <3
Sarah Lane Jan 30
We have things in our life that are precious
They are the parts of us
That make us who we are
The things we will never forget
They make us whole and leave a scar
A seed plants itself in your heart
It happens without your control
But suddenly it’s there
It’s a delicate thing that gives you joy
It doesn’t matter if it’s imperfect
But you never want to lose it
Our lives will consist of these pieces
That are like dandelion seeds
We feed them love without thinking
From the core of our being
Without just one, we aren’t whole
Why can’t we hold them all together
So that forever we have it all
Inevitably time blows like the wind
Each fragile seed flies away
We can dance around to catch them
But love was never ours to hold
It must be free to live and breathe
To create and to pass away
Every part of our soul that we have fed
That feeds us and makes life worth it
Belongs to the maker of the wind
The One that is greater than it all
Who holds everything in balance
The core that each life belongs to
That very heart of Love
Saves every smile and tear
From the beginning to the end
And is painting a beautiful portrait
As the breeze blows each moment away
So that when we look back at our life
We see the precious memories
Blessings that never truly disappeared
It starts but doesn’t end bare
Loving, remembering, painting
Until your picture is complete
A dandelion in God’s hand
With every part that made you...you
femininefiction Dec 2020
dandelions
I sail to you through the great unknown
And tip toe on your white lines of gray matter
An acidic, atomic baby light blonde
  with a heart of stone trapped in a yellow rain cloud  

dandelions
In the syndicate of the hazel night moon
I smell their broken stems of wire
Wrapping my thighs in a sealed cocoon
Dancing in a brimstone fire

Melting in the midnight winds

dandelions
She can’t wait to roam free tonight
Feel the air flow between the thistle of my thyme    
And find her midtown morphine  
To soothe the demons, dancing in her mind

dandelions
Dispersing on a front porch swing
I scatter in the wisp of an ivory snow
Break a rhyme scheme, scream for rain
Pray for laughter,  bleed for growth
daphne Dec 2020
dandelions grow
through concrete, cracking the stone
their will was strongest
an observation from summer
Meca Sep 2020
I once remembered,
I was filled with   m  e  m  o  r  i  e  s,
yet were   b  l  o  w  n   a  w  a  y,
I gaze from a distance,
Watching them go,
Twinkling as the stars,
I'm left alone
Elizabeth Zenk Aug 2020
it wasn’t the earth that brought them here. Nor grass nor tree
instead a solemn scavenger
disinterested of it’s grateful treasures

sprinkling not like rain but like ashes
a goodbye unsaid and unheard
a kiss blown from armies away
hoping it may reach his camp

no god brought it here
as we fight our wars and **** our brothers
it did not fall from heaven
pushing through a crowd of loss

may there be no reason for its being
but persist it must
in hope for its spawns survival
growing evermore

through the cracks, they pray that shrapnel escapes
not all are so lucky as they
blood spilling for their passage on

they are no villains
just weaken souls in need of homes
so far from where their lovers lay,
in bed with other men

deployed as her seed will be too
dandelions
soldiers
in the wind together
Kairosclere Jun 2020
A mellow flower
Waving in the wind
Dried yellow
A long while ago
Yet holding on
To the plant stem
Unwilling to let go
Of its past.
Eva May 2020
Dandelions carelessly dance in the wind
to the songs of the rustling trees.
What was left of the afternoon sun,
buries itself under the ancient pines.
Insects fill the fields with a mesmerizing lullaby.
Luminous flowers steal the last ray of sunshine,
and hide away into the night.
I hope everyone is doing great in quarintine, stay healthy and stay strong:)
Fheyra May 2020
White mares skipping high
Fleeting bows of flight
A delicate sway and tender—
Of nymph water bearers.

Grip to the pole— start bending your toes
Gritty witty Pointes—  slide sailing your stockings
Don't be weary— you all weigh like babies.

When everyone curves below,—
I might cry low
The tug of veins,— Twisting my equity
All for a share of artistry—
That shakes dynamic scaling
How can I fly with this?

A flock of gnasgabs— Forming on the floor
Say, I was bewildered—
By such floating nerves
I suppose, my anchors would stumble!

Muscles shifted miniscules to humongous
I learned the arc's way
How swans scoop to ponds,— and paddle
To split stems without abraded rock scrapes
The pricked would never ill still again— For the element of wind,—is a frolicking mentor of mine.

What shape is imposed?
Is to be trained to sketch enough?—
Or to smother crust on feet?
A little pinch on my nose—
They told me— "Be toned, and not be a cylinder, or you'll be getting misfits."
If groom is to groan,— Then unwinding is not an option.

Stale eyelids, protrude lips;—
With undetermined purple ankles
Presenting, the queue of peacocks—
Crafted by coned imagery!
"Smile darlings, smile.."
"Grant them a magical show!"

A single blow, I think I would fall,—
Or a slip— Brought by fragility
A collapsed bud of covert slim blossoming
What sot titles be lurking—
On this lumpy staging?
I see the curtains closing..

Raggle-taggle pearls, no—
Just piercing prisms
Attach with vessel tubes— providing life
Rates and beats,— I am awake—
While their pupils start bowing—
In a forum with wheezing closed fists
I cannot nod for this; so too, I replied
—"Let brittle vases be a harbinger for naive pottery makers."

"Spin and spin around— Oh stop, I'm not a music box!
I love dancing,— but don't treat me like a doll!"

I escaped, from dry flower fields
Now, I am a deviant— of their snotter lying— of absolute bloom
A standard of fixed chains and keys
No more attending to an epithet of perfection,— For I will be the motion of my own tides and breeze.

I  battle to Ballet,— For 'tis as knight with armored strength— of fenced rivals 'til to bleed
I risk for Ballet,— Like cliff dancing, even on edges— I am steady,—
And tough to dive in lakes and oceans
I fall for Ballet,— How Alice fall to the Wonderland— discovering mysteries in every dooorway
I compose to Ballet,— As I dwell in the well of written poems and tunes,—
I inherit to move..

The wishful dandelions,—
Sprawling with honeybees and butterflies,— of me running with ribbons in Spring time
I feel my hair is brushing,—
As I blew these dandelions,— Sending letters to other gardens—
"Dark, Bright, Tiny, or Huge— Anyone can wear a Tulle,— Come and fly, as we're all free and beautiful like dandelions.."
Just dance to the wings of your heart, and you shall find freedom within your happiness.
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