Best Apologetically Poems


Jack

She spent
her evening with a
friend named Jack.  Jack
stood out like a volunteer, making
no apology for himself (though he forward
marched through her life like a
soldier's foot-stomp parade,
minus pomp minus
circumstance).

Jack always
took his possessions at
first ever impulse, that is
to say he was the type of
man who could "carpe diem" with the
best of them.  She agreed.  "Play
the horn play the drum", she
thought, while given
to him.

Jack always
left his possessions at
second glance.  He was the
nothing-to-show-for-it type of man.
She did not want him to return. She did
want him to return.  He did not
want to come home.  He
did want to come
home.

She spent
her evening without
a friend named Jack, who
steals the thunder.  Jack sat on the
shelf like streamlined vodka.  Apologetically,
he backward marched a Saint Louis
funeral-in-reverse.  She
then nursed a wound
to remember
him by.

(Author:  Chad Wood -  This poem was entered in the contest "Create Your Own Form, Maybe
 ?" sponsored by Constance ~ A Rambling Poet! ~ Form:  Call this the "In and Out" form.  The
 stanzas have ten lines each, which expand and retract, with subject matter about 'something 
in life that comes and goes', can be as many or as few stanzas long as wished)
© Chad Wood  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: apologetically, introspectionlife,
Form: Lyric

Premium Member Releasing Rumour Mongers

Lies from directions I had not expected 
Offered in a variety of ways 
Apologetically 

Pretending to be concerned 
I sent them away 
Recognizing their imperfections 

Seeing them more clearly now 
Rumour Mongers 
Thriving on gossip 

Fabricated by clouded minds
Trouble makers 
No longer friends of any kind
Categories: apologetically, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse

Depression

Arbitrarily
Apologetically
Apathetic
© Ron Rauch  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: apologetically, depression,
Form: Senryu

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member The Cozzie Switch

My golden dog,
two days after his death
I can still smell his fur
in my nose,
in my brain.
After frantic efforts,
we shared his last breath.
I watch the life leave
his eye.
His name was Cosmos and
I think there is a switch
on the spirally DNA
that's turned on more
for some than most.
Those that have it must beware
that it can take them
to their deaths.
Those that love them must be aware
that it can take them
to their death.
Cozzie's mother knew,
it is typical of the breed
to have the switch turned on.
She always held back a little perhaps
knowing where her genes
could take her.
I always sensed a certain sadness
as her doofus son bounced around
trying to please her,
please me,
please everyone!
Lick,licks, licks,
a thousand licks,
even for the cats he shared
a household with.
I think that his mother knew
where it would all end,
out on a walking trail
on a beautiful day,
doing what Cozzie love best,
pulling us all down the trail,
determined always to be first,
dutifully stopping at stop signs,
ready to take off
when given the "O.K".
There came a time in every walk,
that I didn't take seriously enough, 
when he would say, "enough!",
and lay panting in the weeds,
embarrassed to be seen, 
and we would wait,
until he was ready
to resume the lead,
apologetically wagging his tail,
for the momentary delay.
This was a normal day and 
I trusted nature to set the boundaries
never suspecting that Cozzie's switch
was turned too high,
pushing him beyond endurance,
just to please.
The day came when his big body
collapsed in the weeds,
and he could not get up,
panting for his life,
and apologized to the end,
for his inability to please.
If only we could hold back those
with the Cozzie switch
and make them understand
that half a big heart
is enough.
Categories: apologetically, allegoryday, love, mother, endurance,
Form: Free verse

Improvements

The wilderness has been improved of late,
Or so they say.
The maple trees where sticky syrup oozed
Between the cracks of scarred and broken bark,
The wild apple trees whose crooked branches
Cradled clumps of crudely woven twigs,
Have been replaced by houses, row on row
Of painted boxes gleaming in the naked sun.

The narrow trail, a divine doodle
Traced across the earth and kept in place
By centuries of coyote and bear
And deer that bounded zigzag up the slope
Lies tame and straight beneath the asphalt sweep
That cuts a leveled swath across the peak.
The blackberry briars that pressed against the path
And tore the skin from little hands that wiped 
the purple stain on Sunday clothes,
Are cut away, and soft green grass grows in their place.

“Superior development, and more to come,”
The realtor explains,
Not knowing that I was here before.
I scan the hills for one certain house,
An Improvement on a three-room shack
where squirrels chattered in the rafters
And wasps built nests against the eaves,
And berry bushes dirtied up the window panes.

The modern house is pink with snowy trim;
A cement sidewalk leads from drive to door,
And tulips nod obediently by the steps.
Beyond the manicured lawn,
The last undeveloped forest hugs the hill,
And stubborn briars spill onto the planted grass.
“I’ll buy the house,” I tell the man.
He sees me looking at the woods and smiles
Apologetically. “For a slightly higher fee,”
he says, “that bit of forest can be cleared.”
“I’ll take it as it is,” I tell him.
“The blackberries might still grown in there.”
© Karen Ruff  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: apologetically, creation, environment, mountains, nature,
Form: Free verse

Dead Eyes

My love for you is a tasteless agony
A single shroud thrown over the rest of me 
As I tip toe the path of masochism it only brings me closer to you
Because I don't believe that the bottle would bring the pleasure of damage that it used to 

Your eyes are cement and storm clouds 
And you yourself are fresh black ink smeared on the paper with tears and rain 
I am unable to see through you 
It is nearly impossible to read you 
You do not allow me to see your pain 
Constant restraint 

I am the frigid mist that surrounds you at night 
The solemn phantom that watches you while you sleep 
The cold hand tracing your jawline and stealing the occasional empty, atmospheric kiss
The tense air on your lips 
When you sometimes awake
I disintegrate before you can catch a glimpse of my face 

Yet once, I believe, you were too quick for me 
Finally you could see
The lone white essence watching over you 
Realization spreads across your face 
And as I fade away,
You smile apologetically 
Before you fall back into your dreams
Categories: apologetically, deep, devotion, dream,
Form: Free verse


My Daughter's Victory

MY DAUGHTER'S VICTORY

A lie
A deceit from hell 
Basket filled with lies
Lies still in his grave 

A misery
Talk the walk
A wise fool 
Very faultless

An Infidel
Sticks to the pants that feeds him
Scratches his feet on the ground
Like a day old chick 
In quest of a corn seed

A beast
Better caged up in the zoo
Barks, a dog
Bites without instincts
Apologetically useless

Oh! my unborn daughter
Bonded in the spirit
It hurts anytime it flashes my mind that
Angels have also had their fair share
Of the tyrant head
I cry

But, I find solace in the fact
That my daughter is I
Well groomed, properly taught and well fed
My daughter, my love, my life
I can't wait for the extermination of man
That glorious morn when my daughter and I
Would smile at his fall at the foot of his grave
Celebrating my daughter's victory.
Categories: apologetically, daughterdaughter, daughter,
Form: Dramatic Verse

Everywhere Street

Everywhere Street

Aren't you someone that I should recognize;
He said as he approached her with stride.
His familiarity caught her with surprise;
And she disliked what his eagerness implied.

Aren't you someone important;
She looked down towards her feet.
Maintaining distance with her comportment;
Yet, he ignored her plea to be discreet.

I would love to get to know you better;
He said with a sheepish grin.
Trapped in unwanted exchange is a fetter;
His gaze made her uncomfortable in her skin.

Would you like to grab a drink;
Can I call you up sometime?
Give me your number he said with wink;
She thought to herself, not in this lifetime.

Excuse me she said apologetically;
I really am running late.
He looked at her unsympathetically;
Can we go out one night on a date?

No thank you sir she politely replied;
I am not interested in romance.
He cast her wishes aside;
Don't I deserve a chance?

Frustrated she finally met his stare;
Unwavering her eyes said no.
But he was still very much unaware;
Pressing on with abrasive tempo.

I'm really not a bad looking man;
A woman could do much worse.
I make good money and have my life planned;
Being too good seems to be my curse.

Had you not approached me so intrusively;
You and I may have become friends.
But I say to you now exclusively;
This encounter has come to an end.

You women are all the same;
He shouted in anger and disgust.
Standing here alone made you fair game;
For any red blooded man's lust.

You're really not that important at all;
I certainly had you pegged wrong.
Nothing more than a bitter, old prude he yawled;
My bad, good riddance, so long!!
Categories: apologetically, abuse, bullying, discrimination, hate,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Fingerprints On the Park Bench

THE FINGERPRINTS ON THE PARK BENCH

WET PAINT

Perhaps if it had read ……SLOWLY DRYING PAINT

Who knows……WHY

So many must test
the veracity of the obvious.

Question the tone of the voice,
the size of the “angry” letters,
offering a cautious advisory.

We flee the “crime scene”
having left DNA and fingerprint evidence
of  our “Thomas like” doubt,
curling our fingers
into a “safe house” fist
of self-conscious denial.

We return, as it is said,
to the scene of the “crime”.
Apologetically touch
the fading green paint
of a lonely park bench.


© John G. Lawless
     2/23/2017
Categories: apologetically, humor,
Form: Free verse

Writing Activity For Poetry Club 2

* We were told to people watch to draw inspiration from the outside world*

Public transportation
Is
My
Source for real world information
The
introverted Man  across from me shuffles his ipod
His lips move to
Lyrics of an unknown cadence 
Lost in a day dream
Remembering childhood fantasies
He is Battling with Lil Wayne, Eminem or even Drake
Or feeling the guitar sing when he’s playing with the Queen
Just an ordinary man, no one would usually take notice of him
But the crowds recognition, the attention, the admiration of women
This was the life much more suited for him
The Bright pink colour in his cheeks or his laughter rising to the ceiling
Would be much more captivating
Than his dreary grey scowl, hardened from societies disapproval
He looks back across from me
Almost apologetically
Poets weren’t meant to be spies
I looked him straight in the eyes and told him Never apologize
Your dreams are closer to you than you realize
Love yourself first, and that trust will seal your fate
© Laura Hew  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: apologetically, art, confusion, faith, imagination,
Form:

Suicidal Ideation

Deliberation about courting death rooted
throughout mine psyche fueling sinister chortle
at least since bout with anorexia nervosa,
but... maybe ginned blood,
sans umbilical cord transfused in utero aortal,

though long since recovered, the intractable,
haunting specter, sans grim reaper
intertwining within every fiber of this mortal
rooted, grounded deep, and branched out
into each nook and cranny portal.

Said notion provoked,
when made painfully aware
youngest daughter (aged twenty)
plagued with similar thoughts,
damn genetics did maliciously engineer

clutching telephone while
seated at edge of chair
did apologetically, despairingly,
grievously... did air
pestilential, penitential, plenipotential... scare

re: distraction and understandable fear,
she might unwittingly plunge
into hopeless abysmal despair
falling prey into irrevocable
deathly hallows lair,

though kudos for her
from me, this sole Harris heir
to communicate, (albeit
hesitantly) into mine ear
suddenly wishing thy

Punim to be near,
but residing (about three hour drive
southeast of Portland, Oregon)
with my kid sister, attentive to welfare,
a sibling whose persona

doth show tender loving care
and concern, this papa
felt reassured there
would be every action taken
with sixth sense to beware

lest progeny exhibits
pointedly obvious lurching career
dramatic slide into behavioral sink
emergency measures sibling
immediately would commandeer,

hence somewhat relieved thee dear
beloved progeny receptive to hear,
this dada expressed his unconditional love,
and grateful psychological intervention offspring
boldly did declare

indicative professional help volunteer
really asserted necessary to stave off
how dice throw of fate unfair
to said lass, whose demise,
would abruptly kill this sonneteer!
Categories: apologetically, 7th grade, absence, conflict,
Form: Bio

Premium Member One Poet's Confession

Sometimes my mind wanders aimlessly
I find myself indulging in silly frivolity,
When I think about it, rather shamelessly.

Occasionally I pen things distastefully,
Not considering my life’s finer quality
Sometimes my mind wanders aimlessly.

Often, I am reminded of this by family
In their special positions and filial capacity
When I think about it, rather shamelessly.

And taken to task, I react apologetically,
For I sometimes get trapped in triviality
Sometimes my mind wanders aimlessly.

I’m guilty of some silliness unabashedly,
I have even written my share of parody
When I think about it, rather shamelessly.

Most of these I’ve kept sealed hermetically
Lately, I’ve indulged in some bawdy comedy
Sometimes my mind wanders aimlessly
When I think about it, rather shamelessly.

written March 23, 2022
revised March 24, 2022
Categories: apologetically, perspective, poets, writing,
Form: Villanelle

Premium Member Dresser Designed By An Artesian

It was the dresser few could have visualized
I spotted it in the flea market as fantasized
Patterns most would have been able to think up or paint
Created by an artesian whose designs are never faint

This dresser had a signature, not any kind of surprise
So marvelously orchestrated it nearly hurt my eyes
It was a gorgeous dresser, which would look great by my bed.
I only paint one of a kind things, the artist apologetically said.
Categories: apologetically, art,
Form: Rhyme

My Un-Apologetic Apology

I HATE BEING WRONG,
BUT EVEN WHEN I'M WRONG,
I COULD'VE BEEN RIGHT!
ONLY IF THE SITUATION WOULD'VE HAD THE RIGHT WRONG PRESENTATION,
I WOULD'VE HAD ALL JUSTIFICATION FOR MY DRAMATIC EXPLANATION!
MY APOLOGIES FOR PULLING OUT THE DRAMATIC EFFECTS,
FOR SOMETHING THAT SHOULD HAVE ONLY CONTAINED BACKGROUND EFFECTS.
NEVER INTENDED OR THOUGHT ABOUT THE SIDE EFFECTS.
SO WHERE DO I BEGIN?
HOW DO I FIX MY LIPS & GATHER MY THOUGHTS;
IN AN ATTEMPT FOR WHAT WOULD, SHOULD & COULD BE MY APOLOGY?
WHEN I MYSELF CANT RECALL A TIME OTHER THAN THIS,
WHERE MY APOLOGY SHOULDN'T BE CONSIDERED,
LET ALONE ACCEPTED!
I WOULDN'T DARE REQUEST NOR SUGGEST
THAT SHE NOR ANYONE ELSE,
ACCEPT WHAT SHOULD BE MY APOLOGY.
BUT I AM,
UN-APOLOGETICALLY,
ACKNOWLEDGING & ACCEPTING THE FACT
THAT I MESSED UP & I WAS SO WRONG!
I'MA OWN THAT.
AND THEY DON'T HAVE TO EVER SPEAK TO ME AGAIN;
BUT I WASN'T GONNA ALLOW THEM TO WALK ANOTHER DAY..
CARRYING THAT.
I DID THAT,
I OWN THAT.
NOW HOPEFULLY,
THEY'LL ALLOW ME TO RELIEVE THE PRESSURE
OFF THEIR BACKS.
Categories: apologetically, confusionme,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

A Painful Love

I thought you loved me
 But your fist told me different.
 I thought you cared for me
 But apparently I was ignorant.
 My vision was like the night sky
 Because all I saw were stars.
 Your words hurt me deeply
 Leaving permanent emotional scars.
 My white shirt sprinkled with crimson,
 Blood released by the weight of your hand.
 I cannot move and I cannot breathe
 While over me you apologetically stand,
 Wishing you can take back the moment
 But the damage has been done.
 Happiness is replaced by hurt
 And our downward spiral has begun.
 You ask me to put on “that” lingerie
 As your way of making it up to me.
 I’m supposed to be happy and content 
While you have your way with my body.
 You refuse to leave unless I give in to you;
 My mind refuses to clear until you do.
 I allow you to take advantage of me;
 An unwanted yet unforceful rape ensues.
 I look at the clock and the calendar as well
 Wondering how much time has passed.
 It seems as if time has stood still
 Allowing my torture to painfully last.
 His kisses burned into my skin…
His touches corrupted my soul…
My value has been diminished,
 My worth he apathetically stole.
 Who was I before that first hit?
 Where is that missing person?
 I don’t know who I am anymore…
My memory continues to worsen.
 The love you say you have for me?
 You can keep that to yourself.
 I need to start taking care of myself
 Because you are bad for my health.
Categories: apologetically, life, sad, me, me,
Form: Rhyme
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