my teeth are missing

once we hear the rustles
of plastic bag, the heavy
footsteps of my dad tired
from a day-long toil, we
know it’s here. the treat we call

Indian mangoes. Kings of
Philippines summer (in
houses where cheaper
varieties were considered
best) dressed in grass-green
its flesh more honey than
vinegar. if you’re lucky

at its center you may get
your own sun, a sign. sweetness
beyond the mind of your
tongue. it’s been two years

since my teeth met its
golden flesh. i wonder
when. i wonder when.

one can only guess.

02.06.2021
©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
For dVerse Poetics: How to Cut a Pomegranate



36 thoughts on “my teeth are missing”

  1. There’s such a poignancy to this ending. It made me think of lockdown and all the experiences we’ve missed, the times with family, the returns to “home”. I love your description of mangos – so many great memories here.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Yes, dear Sarah. Thank you for understanding the ending so well. I have not been home (Philippines) for more than a year now because of this pandemic and sometimes the missing is heavy to bear. Anyhow, stay blessed. ❤

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  2. I love mangoes too, especially the ones that grow in my grandparents’ house. Sadly due to the pandemic, we haven’t gone home in a long time and I don’t know when we will be able to travel safely.
    You’ve clearly managed to portray all those memories and the feeling of missing home and the all the experiences that being home brings.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I agree with Sarah about the poignant ending, lockdown and everything the pandemic took away. Mangoes are my favourite fruit, but they’ve been hard to get over the past year, and those we have found weren’t very sweet. I love the opening of your poem, the way it introduced the fruit through sounds, and the lines:
    ‘at its center you may get
    your own sun, a sign. sweetness
    beyond the mind of your
    tongue’.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh, dear Kim. Your comment makes my heart swell with joy. Thank you for your kindness to this poem and for your keen attention to details. You definitely heard my heart. P.S. I hope when things are better you can find the sweetest mangoes again. Would definitely recommend our Philippine Guimaras mangoes and of course the Thailand ones. 😉

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Of course, you would also write about them, smiles. I miss the sweetness of the mangoes as those found here in Canada are not that sweet (from Mexico). I so love that green mangoes taste specially with the mixed sourness of other stuff. Missing your homeland is sad but someday, we will all go home, smiles. Take care!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Your comment and our shared memories with mangoes and our homeland, they’re making me mushy and teary inside, Grace. I pray we will be able to, someday. Stay safe, you!

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  5. I visited the Philipines briefly some ten years ago, and if there is one thing I remember it’s the pride you have in your mangoes… I can really feel how hard it must be not to be able to get home… we can only hope that soon it will get better.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. oh yes. we are quite proud about them and the many varieties our land can grow. 🙂 happy to hear you were able to visit! did you enjoy your time there?

      And yes… i pray the world will heal soon. stay safe, Bjorn.

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  6. I adore this whole poem. Pakistan has those same sunny yellow mangoes, which I remember from my childhood. So sweet as you described that it’s “beyond the mind of your tongue.” Love that! :-). And the wondering when you’ll taste them again. It’s almost romantic 🙂

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  7. This is incredibly gorgeous 😀 I especially resonate with; ” if you’re lucky at its center you may get your own sun, a sign. sweetness beyond the mind of your
    tongue.”💝💝

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