Best Morning After Poems
My heart is bleeding
My soul is pleading
For the love that I once knew.
My mind is wondering
My thoughts are crumbling
Remembering how we grew and grew
My love for you will not go
My spirit feels so low
I try to remember the good
But I will never have understood
How this ended so quickly
I was out of your life so briskly
I just thought we would never part
and now I have a broken heart
Stop breathing so loud before I smother you dead.
Please go make coffee ... don't touch my head.
Jose Cuervo last night was my friend
but that relationship now must end.
No more tequila, no more Karaoke.
I can't seem to speak, my voice is all croaky.
Last night was a blast, on the table I danced.
I drank and I flirted and generally romanced
everyone in the bar , they were all friends of mine.
At least that was the consensus until closing time.
I danced my way home on wobbly legs.
Now my poor head it begs and it begs
"Don't do it again, behave and be good.
No more tequila". If only I could
go back once again to last night.
I think I would just have ordered a Sprite.
09/07/2013
for Susan's "Worst Morning After" contest
Im half awake, and glaring at the sunrise
distant brilliance slowly eating at my dry eyes
squinted to best witness the aureate Apollo
refract off blades soaked through with dew
heaven's first blush, midsummer quiet, and coffee scent
cast clarity, light unveiling the burden
weighing down on every living being
clearest with the coming of the day
burning black holes into my brain's blank slate
sundering my soul 'till shatter state
fast approaches on the infinity of empty space
veiled out ahead of me
Restless with the lethargy of baring witness
I stir the pit, and catch flames leap up
from within carbon prints of gray matter
quelled embers lay suffocating beneath
ash dunes and smoldering phoenix feathers
matted and clumped by filmy deliquescence
spent of all but their will to rise again.
I grasp at the green broken glass
strewn about my feet like seeds
planted by last night's ignorance
and the sin of forced forgetting that
we all someday pay recompense
for our vice's and the gluttonous
way we all practice immoderation.
The world is quiet in lull
humanity lost to an illusion
breathing soft
and sleeping soundly
altogether
We exist
to want and rub against
the way the world turns on
a crooked axis, each moment less lucid
than those sunspots and dewdrops
coursing through dirt-clay veins and
branding the cracked dirt with morning
I cant shake loose the afterimage
imprinted on my blunted senses
experiencing everything I reach
is less than whole
understanding the universe
exists as fragments blackened in spite
of time's one plight forever pulling it apart
The sunset split the sky,
the fire danced and spit,
and the condensation clotted.
I seized eternity that morning
amidst the doldrums of sleeping masses
its truth intimate and calming.
I sense slumber cease and the suburbs rustle
the dreamers stumble about in waking
to shower away their sweat and dreamt delusion
start their cars, and drive away in sync
I listen closely to their heavy sighs
the shift of sagging shoulder plates,
bent under with Atlas tugging at the reins
kind's struggle never ceases to
echo off of terra firma, quaking
with each clanking of the chains
that bind our beating hearts to
alarm clocks, freeways, work weeks
and the torment of monotony
The one time when I tried Southern Comfort
Was in a drinking game or something of the sort
I remember my right eye wouldn't open
My temples were pounding like a drum
All I could see was red
So I reached for my head
Then I realized I had no hair
Reeling, I crawled for the mirror
When I found the bathroom, I grabbed the sink
I pulled myself up to see letters in black ink
My forehead was throbbing so bad
I focused to read what it said
I'm pretty sure I screamed something out loud
It said "DRUNK ASS - YOU PASSED OUT'
Like an artist with canvas, paint, and brush,
how then to illustrate (for you) in words
and in rhyme the throes of a bipolar rush?
For bookish and reserved, but manic, nerds
(like me), when I'm touched I'm inclined to gush
all over myself (for the pretty girls,
who'd blush like brides on their first wedding night;
as I flirtatiously finessed the twirls
of their sex-starved libidos with delight).
Yet the morn welcomed me with news of disgrace,
for I had acted the Lothario
with a Gorgon of a maiden:—whose face
was that of the Medusa's, the Gorgo!
To think, that I was so glad to escape:
seeing her with sober mind, I was agape!?
The morning after
Is there any reality to ?, or is it just another Dream ?
Four AM, and again, I am awoken by a dream,
That dream tells a story, is that story a truth ?,
- a truth that came to light Valentines night –
as I came to visit you – your girlfriend is there –
our exchange of words are brief – you want to leave –
you walk out your door – your friend and I remain
behind – your decision – your friend begins to tell me
you are involved, in fact have been for a long time,
- I am nothing more than a filler for your empty hours –
then I awake with a pain in my heart and a knowledge of.
What ?, a premonition !
Monika :
Four AM, pen in hand, words begin to flow.
They speak of a beautiful Lady, I would love to know !
My heart ache, bleeds, - it is my desire for her – it doth show,
in a million tear drops that run wild through my veins
until the knowledge of, is absorbed and all that remains
are the memories, the moments ( good or sad ) of the pains
I have had to endure – your words “ be patent ”, “ be this ”,
“ do that ” – the implications ? – the dream is realized.
In all honesty Monika, - I thank – never from you will I
come to know your compassion, your passion, a closeness,
nor affection, love and desire – the things I desire to give,
to receive – or anything I wish to experience, to know.
I feel that I mean nothing more to you than the gift
- of Christmas Love ( those black and red lover entwined ).
A block of wood carved into – intimate – lovers twisted
around each other’s souls in a passionate kiss,
a sculpture that you saw as a musical symbol (Treble clef )
An item left on a shelf. looked at but never toughed.
As always – I am conflicted – living with uncertainties,
living in doubt of where I stand and what I mean to you.
Wm. J. Atfield Jr.
Love Bill .
B. J. “A ” 2
February 15th 2007
Sunlit jewels blind me.....precious moisture blankets trees.....making me complete.
My mind is still on your Grecian isle yet lost
Through time to another place where I exist
As Sappho sings her songs to me once more
And time unites worlds.
I dream as you lie beside me of rivers
Winding gently down your sloping hills, curving
Around the whispered breeze as you breathe, inhaling
Senses from my heart.
Awaken Aphrodite with discreet kisses
Placed in indiscreet places as sunlight calls
Revealing the night of cardinal pleasure
And whispers hello!
~~~
Sunlight
softly flowing
into a woodland dawn
Where honeysuckles lift their heads
from a sleepy
morning
fawn
Though all of nature
seems at rest
neath the fragrance of a flower
A distant cadence
breaks the still
beneath
this rustic bower
~
A gentle thump
and then
another
A shimmer
parts the years
Into the glade
a silhouette
with long thin drooping ears
The whiskers
graced
upon his face
show an ancient shade of grey
A basket
tucked
beneath his arm
he stops
to bless the day
Then
with a yawn
he disappears
amid a dazzling sight
A multi colored kaleidoscope
that fades
neath Easter's light
~~~
GIRL OF SAIGON - THE MORNING AFTER
You are the night and morning after.
Sunrise is playing in your hair,
I swear your eyes are telling me lies,
I know you kill but I don't care.
Out in the bush, I'd recognize
your look of death staring at me,
to soon to show the hate in your eyes,
and I would end your misery.
I hear your love like distant thunder
rolling across a barren sky,
I only guess you want to confess,
so I'd keep living in your lie,
but I know you're just too far gone,
and you know, I'm telling you why
some morning soon, I'll carry on
or be the one who had to die.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
One night, this fellow named Newt
Decided to visit a prostitute
But she stole all his cash
and gave him a rash
Then his wife gave him the boot
It was the worst morning after for Newt
after he went to that house of ill repute
When he pissed it did burn
A hard lesson learned
Of that there is no dispute
Sun,
Awakening,
Remembering, sex, sounds, Miles in the Sky,
Jaegermeister, O, bad, when, warm, why?
‘Tis apres ski! o me, o my, not for these hot antipodae.
No more, forever. Now, just, the
Surf
And I.
Thundering,
Thud-thudding,
Slow,
On the beach.
Serendip morning, perfect,
Palm-fronded, dawning, blue and silver, beige sand,
Sizzling, the sound, aroma!
Bacon and banana, coffee, toast,
Scrambled egg, red-hot chili, O ginger, garlic,
Tomatoes! Heal me!
Sometime, later, sorbet, maybe,
What? Champagne? Oh no, please, save me.
Then, leaning, her
Swimsuit, slipping,
Succulent, breast, almost, tipping, rudely, slow,
No. She flips it, back in, coolly…oh?
Beach. Hangover,
Burping, yawning, randy.
Sun, dazzling, the shades, cool, handy,
Oh yes, smile…the…(sleep?)
Razzling has made me lazy,
My poisoned brain, short-circuiting, crazy, I
Sip, hair of dog, ill-considered,
Breakfast, Bloody, Mary.
Surf, thuds, on. And my head,
Points, to the sea,
Swimming, turning, catching it,
Wanting cleaning, cleansing, clearing, body
Surfing? No, slowing, sucked back, rolling,
Sinuses swizzled, I,
Tumbled and twirled, am,
Dumped. By the first, little, shore-break, of the morning.
Then, slowly, recreated,
Finned, crawling and gasping like
The first air-breather, but
Back, on that vibrating beach,
I smile.
The morning after
I wake up to my pillows talking to me
Your are gone but they say you were here
You left some time in the night after I said you couldn't stay
Even after all that excitement you caused with the little you brought
There wasn't anything your body could do to impress me
Make me want to change my nature to believe in more than my stripes
And these spots that have kept me sheltered and unharmed by love
Because love is just some female constantly barking at everyone to be noticed
Searching for gentle and caring hands to bite later
So you took a kiss and your clothes while I pushed you out my door
Imagine my surprise when I still didn't wake up alone
There is this feeling here holding me now
I can't help but think you left it
A revenge of some sort to combat my cool head, cold shoulders, and icy heart
And that makes me want to hate you
Who are you to come and try to change who I am in one night
You should have simply just left a note if you really had to have a say
Even I would have been less offended if you left cash on my nightstand
Just so our one night stand won't still stand in my room
Its staring me down as if I was caught with my hands in forbidden places
With someone who isn't suppose to be here
But there is still something here that isn't suppose to be here
It is the morning after
Well passed our mutual time of sharing
You took and I took
You gave and I gave
And I only rose above you after I spent time at your feet
It was a fair night
I don't think I deserve to wake up with leftovers sleeping over
Lounging in my bed stealing my sleep before my sanity
Because I didn't ask for any reminders
Somehow they have found themselves here infringing on my time
Loitering and littering my space with your impressions I refused to acknowledge once
Inspecting all the marks in the light of day won't allow me to do it twice
If only there were just pillowcases and sheets I needed to wash
Hickies and scratches on my skin I needed to hide
So I can fully convince myself you were never here
The morning after
Got in a bit of bother last night
You’re forgiven for thinking my plight
Was the result of violence
That would make better sense
But I was merely arm-wrestling
With a tender bar nestling
Beside my potato place
Where I woke with sour face
Brain bruises rid me to bed
And blossom in purple and red.
21st May, 2016