"afterthought" poems
The word, defining, muzzles; the drawn line
Ousts mistier peers and thrives, murderous,
In establishments which imagined lines
Can only haunt. Sturdy as potatoes,
Stones, without conscience, word and line endure,
Given an inch. Not that they're gross (although
Afterthought often would have them alter
To delicacy, to poise) but that they
Shortchange me continuously: whether
More or other, they still dissatisfy.
Unpoemed, unpictured, the potato
Bunches its knobby browns on a vastly
Superior page; the blunt stone also.
17.8k
I should always be first priority,
Only second best to your family.
Not to some stranger you don't know,
Not to your hobbies.
I am bitter when you place me
As your afterthought, as something
That will always be available.
Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 11:59 PM UTC
some want it, I don't want it, I
want to do whatever it is I do
and just do it.
I don't want to look into the
adulating eye,
shake the sweating
palm.
I think that whatever I do
is my business.
I do it because if I don't
I'm finished.
I'm selfish:
I do it for myself
to save what is left of
myself.
and when I am
approached as
hero or
half-god or
guru
I refuse to accept
that.
I don't want their
congratulations,
their worship,
their companionship.
I may have half-a-
million readers,
a million,
two million.
I don't care.
I write the word
how I have to
write it.
and, in the
beginning,
when there were no
readers
I wrote the word
as I needed to write the
word
and if all
the half-million,
the million,
the two million,
disappear
I will continue to
write the
word
as I always have.
the reader is an
afterthought,
the placenta,
an accident,
and any writer who
believes otherwise
is a bigger fool than
his
following.
7.9k
She was an afterthought,
Like salad,on the side
Like a footnote to a long letter,
Like curry leaves to gravy,
Like the dregs at the bottom of a cup of tea,
Like the second man on the moon,
She was an afterthought,
Always a step behind,
Always a second choice,
Never sought after or valued,
Neither loved nor cherished,
Like a faded old photograph,
Like an out of tune guitar gathering dust in the attic,
She was an afterthought,
Quickly replaced,easily forgotten and never remembered
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 8:28 AM UTC
Tempestuous longings from behind the screen of life’s moving picture
You stare back at me, in a glimmering, shimmering afterthought
Laid low by foregoing passion
In a moment’s torrid glimpse from our hollow reflections
Fragrant evenings during seasons of filming
Solemnly captured and revised then experienced
The all encompassing struggle with context and setting
Abides a steely night, in the rustle of autumn branches
Requiem for an unremitting beloved!
Sung in the valley between piercing peaks of sorrow
She floats through the scene as distinct aura and vague essence
An embrace from the trail of vapors and misspent gestures
All emanating from a glass of cider beneath nostrils
Gracefully, you embank on the wind of time’s shadow
And nudge my cheek with impetus and vigor
Lashing out at my skin in ambivalent revelry
As if my follicles were vacuous caverns
Catching the callous moments which flutter the ***** of hillside tents
The unearthly gusts of banality extinguish the projector’s gleam
While nature embodies your beauty furthermore
Toward the end of the pathway
And the credits of the film
And the allegro of the score
And the solitude of eternity
And the rustling of the branches
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 12:09 AM UTC
So ends the Drama locked into your Bronze
Nike kisses you and shows you her Womb
Who, despite Angry Lads, live Life's Beyond
Now Married are you to Testimony
I guess you will survive the Afterthought
Of Promos and Parcels you will not Resist
The Wheel turns again; And in your Forenaught
Honest Advices refuse to make a Fist
You have this Resume of Deaf-Record,
Partial to Characters you do not Like
Even if they ask Penance for your Accord
Your Self-Righteousness slaps them in-spite.
What's the use? Your Friends will come to your Defense
Even if an Ant like me Stings to make Sense.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 3:52 AM UTC
:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧*
the day ends
singing to us
ourselves to
each-other
of the hour
to a minute
on the clock
we drink roses
for fading embers
the burning match
that proverbial breath
the familiar pull
towards dreams
towards sorrow
the pain
the joy
from
dust
to
dust
emptiness
orderliness
indifference
mounds of gold
ignorant shiny
pile of ashes
enlightened
afterthought
in the morning
in the evening
all the beauty
is all suffering
living forever
dying together
hands over fists
:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 2:03 AM UTC
Hormones raging...for what I'm told not to engage in, even if we're engaged, if it's not official than its still revealed as...fornication. There's a disturbing underestimation of the result given for this particular sinful demonstration, society has taught us that we test the car before we drive it, but the 1st issue with this analogy told is that we're comparing human sin to...driving a vehicle? But if we're going to establish analogies on this subject , then, well, why don’t we also consider these: do we begin eating Thanksgiving dinner before were done saying grace? Do they hand out diplomas and degrees for classes you haven't passed yet? Do they give Super Bowl trophies to teams expected to win? So how do we justify receiving the prize of an unmet process? Far too many have allowed marriage to become an afterthought or not even a passing idea our better judgment caught because man had rather receive a temporary pleasure that sin conceives birthed in disobedience, deceptive grip around your conscience until your choked by the demands of a lustful flesh that wants to be fed in continual expedience. Or...Maybe, I’m just being a hater, fighting not to be twistedly envious and curious of a world that I’m forbidden to embrace. Or Maybe I’m fighting...the temptation and frustration of being a single man patiently searching for that good thing and the favor my Father blesses along with her. Maybe I’m fighting...not to nosedive into the bottomless trap laid for human souls, lured in by lack, of self-control. It troubles me in just how simple... he brags and boasts then plots and plans his next victim in the desecration of his and her Creator’s Temple. But It’s not all his fault, because it was up to her to give him the key to this priceless location better known as her body.
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC
An afterthought of the day, evolves around me I have to say, I run and hide, not wanting to stay, the dominant side, wanting to play.
Control nothing not even my mind, I am tired of being so kind, the bright light doth shine, darkness comes over so blind, trying to find.
Leave me let me go, my light no more glow, yes I feel very low, these words my only flow, as my heart pulses to and fro, I just want to scream NO
Submission such a game, I am the one to blame, for I lost all of my aim, now I only just want to maim, end it all my life a tragedy a shame.
Reaper come quick, take me I do so pick, read my soul see it is sick, too deep in too thick, lost my way broken wick, let me partake of arsenic.
May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 2:52 PM UTC
& if I held you to my ear I could feel your heartbeat, slow and content with my hand on your chest (speeding up as it moves down, down)
I could feel the softness of your skin, turned the deep pink of a blushing girl—the sun's work— and holding the heat of that close star's burning tendrils
I could feel movement in your muscles as your arm curls around my waist lazily, an afterthought, like it's a natural instinct to pull me tighter in your sleep
I could feel shivers on my bony spine while you kiss iridescence behind my eyes in the way your lips press where my jaw meets my neck
I could feel an utter wholeness that I've missed for so long
Except—
Except——
Except———
You're too far away, a distance that even the "phone call" between the ocean and the little child pressing the shell against her ear cannot fix
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
On a green leaf
For frogs
Illuminated by the surface under
There she sits on
A part
A piece I looked as a picture
Dazing wondrously and scouring with pairs
My sandals my feet my hands
All my fingers and nails
My ears
My toes of ten
and legs
Knees and my shoulders
The missing piece
or so i thought under
The afterthought
Full of doubters
For the plants grew all tall
None could be any taller
Dazzling danglers
A field under the stars.
Girly willed as am I
Which could not seem possible
Acceptance aches
Belief breaks
Even the words I speak, write or sing,
(Shall I
Hear it...)
over there it only echos
against the busy chatter and travels back home
Clogs ********
Reminding me that a life can be extinguished with mere
disbelief.
Disbelief and ignorance another pair...
Girly willed as I am
Nodding behind books
Fiction, fiction, fiction
They neigh
So here I go...
Thankful prayer as it did happen to us..
And all of it did
That it was I who did it.
Fuels of her pair
by flying passion and wild innocence
Now...
A human being
Limitless like the others
Why don't they not see? The rest, the stops,
The same scene, there is exactly the same scene...of falls.
If they just went out and did it, for a stretch and a walk,
Just grow out of leaves, be the branches printed of feathery crease
Because I am girly willed
Golden meadows lost to become treasure.
Fearless of rags she is as I am,
Laying afloat of the clouds, linen skies, seas and drifting through the weightless sand
Fearless forever.
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 9:25 PM UTC
We knew limited evil.
We base-valued desirable evil.
We unharness a nice, obedient, satan-tail.
She was fresh.
A raw, vile, unwashed beast.
A love-lorn evil bear.
She ate you so loud
-Idle Wrath
——————————————————————————————————
Would you believe,
I can’t lie?
She was a runner.
I was a bleeder.
She ran fast.
She was a love I’ll never know.
She was a debutante.
she was vaudeville.
I don’t believe
I’m losing it.
-Wild Heart
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 3:07 PM UTC
The walls close in slowly, as the light begins to fade
No more youthful smiles, the days only masked with grey
And yet the world keeps turning
People rushing on by
Filling their days with worry,
a tear drop wets my eye.
Can you feel the hunger burning,
your stomach turns to rot
As all are born must stop breathing, eventually an afterthought.
Can you see the light upon the hill for which we all aspire?
Tis the goal of justice, held in the arms of another.
Who is it that holds the key to swing open heaven’s gate
?
Can we obtain succor, to save us from this state?
Socrates says it is the philosopher king;
But even kings are mortal captains
And their love of knowledge
cannot stop them from unjust folly
How does one find the answer to what is the moral law of God?
Does it uplift the personality, or curse it free from thought?
Better yet, what is your **** worth?
Would you lay down your life a martyr
to bury your brother beneath the dirt?
Left in a world so full of imperfection, we take refuge in the days advances
Television, computers, ipods, and Wiis, lose your self in trivial things.
This distraction gives those in power all that they can want,
For if good men cannot engage and stop the warring
There is nothing to halt man’s wayward plot.
Sin is separation; there is no us and them.
That is your ego and your thought deploring
A mind bereft of ken.
Open up your Eye young child, become the all-seeing Zen
Only then Justice will not matter,
For Justice will be in all of us again.
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
There are flowers springing from my bones
in places they were never planted
fracture my skull and call it apathy
I say pain is a better road than dying alone;
can't you see the way my vision is blurred,
squinted too long at the sun now I think I've done damage
burned holes in my corneas before the age of 21, but those are just
surface things, right?
the road feels a lot longer when the cold air hits all my soft spots, like my neck so I cover it up
pooling all my efforts into growing thicker blood that will keep my skin warm
;keep kissing bruises on my arms, thinking that love will heal each new halfhearted attempt at self-sabotage
or manage the leftover evidence;
did somebody forget their brakelights on?
I'm trying to figure out how to get these needles out of my head
rocket science, learning to reverse detonate what might be left
in my system
system check, leaving sticky residue
behind me in my heavy concave tracks
softly trailing back
gotta learn to do it right the first time before I backtrack
my ears ringing like a sound clap;
bringing up old war wounds like we've lost gives us some sense of entitlement
things we don't want to lack,
leave the last stack
where I can mull over the aftermath
digging graves for those who are still alive,
burn my skin tonight
burn it right off my bones so I'll know I'm alive
still kicking like the second round
the afterthought that realizes what went down the first time
don't let me out of the house tonight,
god knows what I might find.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC
you love him
you love his smooth hands and his rough cheek
you love your hands in his denim shirt
and the cinematography of you together
everything else is an afterthought
the knife in his eyes that is not always pointed at you
but when it is
you kiss the fist that rattles plates
the lips that wrap around clenched teeth
melt him
fail to understand his poison tipped arrows
that are aimed at the mother who threw bottles
if he could only pick one more fight it'd be with his father
you kiss him when he knocks his brother's teeth out
he leaves in the morning for coffee and comes back a day later
welcome him with open arms and abundant questions
he will be a tower of irritation and concrete
he will point fingers that will curl into fists
but they are not fists for you
they are for the devils that dance within him
and behind his wild eyes
and in his childhood home
you will not be fooled
he loves you
you know by every sweetheart and the lips on your forehead and the way he smells in between the sheets each night
he leaves
he comes back
purple flowers that bloom around his eyes are the bouquets he brings home for you
the front porch sags when he puts his hands in his pockets
his face buried in your chest
on nights when the lamp swings a little too low
and his body is wracked with sobbing and shoulders shaking
he mourns the gentle temper he never had
he mourns what he would be like without you
he mourns what you would be like without him
this is how he loves you
your hands in his hair easing soothing shh shh
you are the mother who left
you are better than every last ex-girlfriend
for reasons he will be happy to name
this is how you love him
you came because you are drawn to the shipwrecks
but you stayed in the water for him
ancient child
furious soul
you salt his wounds
and then you clean them
this is how you love him
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 12:46 AM UTC
2-29-16
With zoey on my mind
Dedicated to Zoey Maryann Lynn Sowers
She has his cheeks, his nose, his chin
Her hair and ears, she gets from him
We didn’t get to see your first lost tooth
We haven't got to see you shoot hoops
We weren't there for your first scraped knee
We didn’t see your first heartbreak
I know they are there, always by your side
Just wanted you to know, how much we love you
And no matter what our love for you can never die
My niece you are, my niece you''ll be,
From here until eternity. Perhaps that’s when
We will get to see all the beauty, love, and fun
Inside of you, believe, we did try, to be a part
When we stopped getting to see you it tore us all apart
Our hearts, yearn to see your beautiful smile
Our hearts, hurt to hear of you thinking you have a defeat
When I see your face, I glow inside, with pride
Knowing that you are my niece, and what a beautiful person you are
With time, and hope, and prayer perhaps, we will see you soon, in a little while
Wish we coulda see you all dressed up for soccer, with your cleats
Some day we hope we will be able to attend,
To see your face, one day as someone's lucky bride,
We hope that you will always know, somewhere in the deep
You are and always will my first beautiful niece, I will keep
The memories I had, the pictures to show, the bits
We got to witness, and be in your life.
I hear its by your choice, to not speak,
Or look at me. It hurts I wont lie
I'm your Aunt Hope, I always will be
I hope that I am someone you will come to see
as your start the larger part of your journey
This crazy world we live in no doubt, it will be rough
I know though, what you have in you, you are tough
I guess I have to accept that I will just be the one who sits,
Who waits to see if you will ever acknowledge me.
I want you to know that through all this strife.
I am your Aunt, and will be praying.
For you to come through the other side,
Much stronger, even greater, and be able to have pride
In who you are, in what you can be,
in all this world we live in, know in your mind,
Perhaps just in mine, you will always have me,
If you need a shoulder, if you need a friend.
I would forever be there, my love for you is not pretend
My niece, you are, my niece you will be.
And I will wait patiently, and if only , to be
Just a friend, that is fine by me.
For an afterthought, my dear. You are my first niece ZOEY!
Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 12:28 AM UTC
it was like waking up to all white fume
or a long washline — masturbatory, feeling something stiff like a hand gliding
over a monsoon of emotions, the affect
jazz and the crunch of fragrance
forever like sandalwood;
on my way to Dumandan, i conjure an inward miasma of thrill, unfurled yesterday, today, or was it before when our eyes were fixated on the passing of things in myriad ways without any relevance to what has died, say wilted,
like a flower going away in closing seasons,
children in hurtling speeds at twilight,
gates welcoming a resounding sound of
rusting hinges,
slow rise of night, its vertical climb,
shadows collapsing on the Hibiscus
and the Poinsettia from the Cordillera,
dreary men taking out ******* throwing
them into metalloid beasts, verdigris
painted, grisly caravan of steel and
worthless scraps —
past neighborhoods thinking about
the simmer of onion and the hustle of
the feral over rooftops, clinking wine bottles undulating full to empty — both
unaware of acumen and only dizzying
ourselves mirroring each other eye
to eye and bridging this unclose-enough
a gap in between,
because you need it,
and i want it, or simply in reverse,
a sidewinding thought through dunes
of afterthought.
because you have to walk my side
of the Earth and I have to meet you
somewhere halfway where we can both
lounge at each other's steady presence
while the flyblown dry air ravishes
the piquant morning, all-telling what
this distance meant from its
peak up to the very last
traceable steps where i found you
and you found me, trilling in the neighborhood like how void
stills itself into all the mood of the Earth:
all moony and
fretting in the disquiet.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 2:38 PM UTC
I think I am always an afterthought,
one that people seem to disregard,
It seems that people call me when there is nothing left,
and I don't know how I feel about being being second best.
Dates are asked and promised,
and phone calls are never returned,
the tightly tied strings of friendship are fringed and burned.
The effort is never made,
as it is assumed I will always be there,
an afterthought, a maybe,
forgotten without a care.
You don't jump at the chance to be with me,
it's always a "maybe", or a "we will see."
I am not number one on any lists,
not "best looking", or "who I want to kiss."
But I'm an afterthought,
the one lingering in the back of your mind,
the "not too bad", the "she's okay",
"with her it's an alright time."
An afterthought,
I do not want to be,
But a first thought,
the one you want to see.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
She sits there in her chair centered out without a care.
Aura of a holy child all grown up with fires desire.
She moves a moment before she stirs,
oblivious to this swirling world.
Inciting is her afterthought,
am i distracted or distraught?
The smile that i once forgot,
her everything is what i want.
But it's those eyes i can not see,
so worried she can see through me.
Her light, a spirit much stronger then mine,
to reach her i wonder if i could climb.
If heaven is real it is her realm,
for she's an angel i can tell.
So humble she does not believe,
but catch my breathing i skipped a beat.
See i believe i am a dragon spitting fire killing myself from the inside out.
But with you around i have no doubt.
So careful not to make a mistake,
i've now become what it is i hate.
For i would do anything in heavens sake,
but they wont allow what's surely fake.
And every night i lay in bed,
as your words surround my head.
I'm growing up so you can see
i'm here for you apart of me.
My favorite dream you killed me with a knife,
and we were together in the next life.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 2:05 PM UTC
Afterthought
(Poem by Serenus)
Yes, there is an issue
That needs to be addressed
Lately I’ve been feeling
Like you’ve placed me as 2nd Best
Funny, I never knew
I was competing in a contest
Oh my beautiful prize, was it all lies?
-Time to confess
If you wanted to be” just friends”
You should’ve stated your un-desires
But you had an ulterior motive
-The backup plan of a liar
Keeping me in your back pocket
Playing me for a fool
Selling me sweet dreams
While you had your cake-and ate it too
Telling me what I wanted to hear
Lying to my face
If things didn't work-out
With choice #1
You kept me around..."Just in case"
Lost in my own mind
Is there something I missed?
I thought I was first in line
But you had me on a waiting list
Passion in every kiss
What a ***** little trick
It makes me wonder…
What kind of "special gifts"
Did your “first pick” -get?
Loving you was a battle
You don’t see how hard I fought?
Discarding me as your “Plan B”
A second hand -afterthought
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 1:03 PM UTC
I'm angry with you
I am sure you don't care
If these words were spoken I'd be wasting my air
My feelings not even an afterthought in your brain
You are too selfish to consider my pain
Mar 23, 2022
Mar 23, 2022 at 6:31 AM UTC
I didn’t tell you how my world shattered.
No matter... it was over... my castle battered.
Angels prayed no difference made
Separate ways taken for both our sake
Visceral pain reigned heaving chest...
... one year counseling relief and rest
**Time heals…
Blessings count**
Children! Our love legacy.
Once with eager glee close to wedded bliss
We smiled... shared a hot fudge sundae
And topped it with a kiss.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 3:17 AM UTC
Consider me like an afterthought
and I will fade away.
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 11:25 PM UTC
When you said "I love you"
it was like a room that was built
on to an already finished house----
always an afterthought.
When you said "I miss you"
it was like drinking coffee
from a teacup----
it never made a difference
But when you made
the mountains we had built up
into valleys
I asked "why?"
And you said
"Erosion".
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 9:52 PM UTC