Best Apologies Poems
we don’t appreciate
the sun until it r a i n s,
warmth of gentle rays
that subtly stroke
distressed skin
when time was f r o z e n
smiles were s t o l e n
and hope yet again
remains b r o k e n…
whilst I’m lying here
in the in-betweens of
procrastinated promises
along bitter breezes~
you use your poetic
words as a weapon,
oppressing the guardians
around my dreams,
oblivious to the
translucent truth
laced in trimmed nylon,
that you and me
we’re made of
the same s t o n e
we wear the same
crown of t h o r n s
sitting on the throne
of darkness, full of
stainless steel cages
and chain link fences,
turning
these emotions
into
cancerous tumors,
knocking on your
conscience, patronizing
the pigments of
my petal-like palette
by questioning
your own roots..
but now I’ve got feathers
in my bleeding heart,
and if these crimson wings
could fly, you’ll find me
soaring above seas
of solitude, that pushed
me down to an abyss
of n o t h i n g n e s s.
watch me unlock
the keys of jasmine doors
to seek serendipity surrender,
as my muse serenades
rainbow reveries,
amidst faded stars
and moonless nights
which
gaslit my
apologies and roses.
I have tried
to twirl through
ravenous ravens in a
carnival of carnivores
you’ve fed my mind
labelling me
as the serpent q u e e n
with twisted words,
whilst you whirl around
with
ghosts of p o e t r y
in your
cathartic h a z e..
your love
is a hand grenade
that shattered my aching
bones into scattered
s m o k e and f o g
they say
the biggest hearts
are the
biggest targets,
and the rifles you hold,
seems to have
my name engraved in
blood-soaked tears…
so, now that you’ve
pulled the trigger,
how would you stop
the ammo?
Will you remain forever
in your
unbending silence
a false humility
disguised
as k i n d n e s s
that flickers glitter,
to ascend brighter
as the bullet settles
upon my spine, halting
me from movement?
Or will you watch me
c r a w l back to the
spheres where I belong?
for I refuse to rot
as a victim of an
unwritten circumstance.
I wrote what I thought was a 'poem' some years ago,
but it lacked rhythm, rhyme, and had no smooth flow.
Its imagery was blurry, and it filled my heart with grief
to read the overdose of alliteration, so far beyond belief.
To be quite blunt, it was a freakin, fricken, flippen flop.
I was distraught reading what I'd written and had to stop.
"W T F W T?" I shouted at myself in complete disgust!
Had I just said that aloud? Was I so irked that I'd cussed?
The vibrato pulsing in my voice shook the high bookshelf,
and on the floor fell the pimp... the spying Christmas elf!
"Stay there you lil bugger!" I yelled down at him. "You suck!!"
I could've sworn he made a mental note for Santa. W T F?
Threw him in the trash. With greasy, yucky stuff he went.
I sat at my keyboard, deciding time would be better spent
in writing poetry that would supersede that piece of crap.
I wanted to clear myself of fault and put on my thinking cap.
The first line read, "My muse is older, and I should scold her..."
But I heard a loud gasp and felt a hard punch on my shoulder.
Atop my head she beat me with a broom!, Yes, I was struck
from behind. I saw blind fury in her eyes and yelled, "W T F?"
I didn’t appreciate you enough; I'm sorry, I didn’t know
Difficult times, raising us was so tough; I’m sorry I didn’t know
Little money, food in limited supply, yet you never complained
I didn’t notice your hands were so rough; I’m sorry, I didn’t know
While working two jobs as well as keeping us all safe, fed and happy
You always seemed calm , never harsh rebuffs; I’m sorry, I didn’t know
I don’t think you ever had more than one dress or a new winter coat
We had more love than material stuff; I’m sorry I didn’t know
Jeanie now a mom herself and understands what it must have been like
When I speak of mother my voice gets gruff; I’m sorry, I didn’t know….
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high as day begun,
Until I see a happy crowd,
YES !! then I'll go and block the Sun .
I'll threaten mist , but dump some showers.
First a gentle fall , then heavy spills.
I'll seek-out Willie Wordsworth's flowers
And rain upon his daffodils .
P.S. Lighten-up folks...... not to be taken seriously...........
WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN
Jim’s fallen head over heels for a girl,
He’s forgotten his mates; they’re in limbo
One whiff of her scent, his head’s in a whirl
But why did he choose Sue THAT blonde bimbo?
Like a shadow they are never apart
Stuck together tightly with superglue
This bleached blonde airhead has stolen his heart
Jim bade all his old friends a fond adieu
Every single day they are together
Still they only have eyes for each other
Arms wrapped around her, true love forever
Jim wears jumpers knitted by his lover!
On bended knee Jim gives Sue a huge ring
He splashed all his cash to buy her some bling
WHEN A WOMAN LOVES A MAN
Sue won’t hear a bad word about her Jim,
with rose coloured glasses, Sue is blinkered
He lets out huge farts, but Sue will just grin
She just giggles and calls him a stinkard!
Jim snores like a steam train, he never halts
Sue turns over and pulls up the covers
She totally ignores all of Jim’s faults
They’re besotted since they became lovers
Jim’s mates pity him; he’s under the thumb
With a ring on her finger Sue’s smiling
They are contented and Jim’s never glum
Sue adores him; she thinks he’s beguiling
Forever in love through good times and bad
Sue chose Jim because he looks like her dad!
Two English Sonnets Contest
Sponsored by Mark Massey
Two Sonnets written with my sincere apologies to the Bard!
Checked with how many syllables 10 per line
12~14~16
Stubbing my toeses and whiskers on women
Stepping on nettles and by a swarm of bees bitten
Bounded like hostages tied up with strings
These are a few of my suckiest things
White collared phonies and bills piled in oodles
Bad smells and poop felled from schnauzers and poodles
Old geezers who cry when the old swooner sings
These are a few of my suckiest things
News from the presses with more stock value slashes
Cornflakes that grow soggy when in the milk splashes
Little wood splinters that felt like a sting
These are a few of my suckiest things
When the moon lights
When the glee sings
When I’m feeling glad
I stumble upon one of my suckiest things
And everything turns bad
>
No apologies...
Clothed in sensuality
Words undress my soul
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Warning - Don't read The Raven and Watch Hitchcock on the same night.
Once before my bedtime, nearing, which I dreaded, fazed and fearing,
Stories mother would read me before she closed and locked my bedroom door —
While I washed up in the water, could mom have drawn it any hotter?
Before me swam a rubber duckling, chuckling as my mother shut the door
“‘Tis some water fowl”, I muttered, “which mother bought me from the store.
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I can place it - the sad night Mother would misplace it;
Or entirely erase it; of her mind remaining nothing more.
I lay in bed, mother tucking, on feathers of mother’s plucking
Time for your book, said mother clucking, clucking as she locked the bedroom door —
I’ll read “Make Way for Ducklings” and then warm milk she began to pour -
all across the bedroom floor.
Assuredly, I felt no sorrow, as mother left me till the morrow
Sighing - buying time – which maybe I could only hope to borrow;
I heard my monstrous mother screaming, or maybe Tippi Hedren streaming
as Hitchcock’s “Birds” was beaming from the TV laying on the floor—
“’Tis just Hitchcock’s “Birds” beaming from the TV laying on the floor” -
This it is and nothing more.”
Inside that book peered at me smiling, a crazed duck that set me dialing
911 and protective services to frantically implore
The feeling in my stomach sinking, “I need a friend”, I was thinking
Staring wildly at this ghastly mallard who chilled me to the core
Then, at once, I saw it, heard it, this grinning duck needn’t chill me to the core
as he said, “I will be your friend forevermore”.
Only those you love can really hurt you;
For those you do not love can't reach your heart,
So when they say or do things that can cut you,
The pain can pierce your heart just like a dart.
Things like this aren't easily forgotten.
When remembered wounds seem fresh again,
Apologies sincere are like a bandage,
That helps to heal the wound, assuage the pain.
When we attack someone in heat of anger,
And say things that we really shouldn't say,
"I'm sorry", is the order of the day then,
So hard feelings that will staycan be allayed.
Even if you think that you've done nothing,
That you should feel ashamed or sorry for,
If in your righteousness you find you've hurt them,
A simple word can halt a closing door.
Why sit back and say,"Let them get o'er it.'
'I will not crawl to them on bended knee."
If you've hurt someone who loves you, you should forfeit,
The pride that keeps your stubborn cruelty.
I never cry at weddings,
none shed, no apologies to say..
Though the days, up and gone,
how soon you've flown away.
I shared much of life without,
and would I ever will it..
were I to be so selfish,
and wish the same of you?
Just weakness in watery eyes..
moments precious now..
though my oh my, how few.
No, that would never do.
No, I never cry at weddings..
well, almost never..
do you?
Late at night I hear their screeching,
Feel their evil arms outreaching
Like some minister a-preaching
In a temple made of light.
How my poor ears get to ringing,
As a band of angels shrilly singing
On some lonely stretch of highway
In the night.
I think I hear the bells
Of a hundred thousand hells.
They won't allow me sleep,
Nor bless my soul to keep.
Oh, how they make me weep
As their awful midnight screaming
Keeps my fevered brain from dreaming.
I toss this way and that,
Like a trapped and frightened bat
As it scrambles for the door
And croaks out: Nevermore!
Rumour has it
that you write
There are many
amateur critics ready
to put you down
You don't have to
apologize
for your life style,
for your work
for anything you do
When the summer begins
to die
Feel the winds of
September in your bones
Let your creativity
grow like a late-blooming
flower
Now you feel
only the wind
It doesn't judge
you
It frees your spirit
from the stifiling heat
Let the sound of
trumpets
Reach your soul
Pick up a pen
Tell them your hopes,
wishes, dreams
Let the critics talk
You are the
flowing river
of magic words
apologies to Robert W. Service
There’s a tale that is told
In the night Yukon cold
Of the shooting of Dan Mc Grew
The truth as it’s known
Is a legend that’s grown
And the truth is known by very few
It’s twenty years on
The Malamutes gone
There’s nobody left from that night
But there’s talk of some gold
That sometimes is told
Of what happened just after the fight
There is word of a bar
“The New Yukon Star”
And a fellow down there who can play
The place it is grand
The best in the land
And it’s found down by Old Frisco Bay
Now, remember the poke
Of McGrew’s the tale spoke
And what happened when Dan was now dead
From his neck it was freed
And the poke held the deed
To Dangerous Dan’s claim it was said
When the Northern lights glow
Bringing life to the snow
They say that old Dan walks again
But twenty years past
Dan took that breath, yes, his last
And left the world of mortal men
Now, the saloon down in Frisco
With a barkeep named Cisco
Had a picture of Dan on the wall
They say that his ghost
Makes it smile when you toast
Dan McGrew when it is last call
A traveller came
And remembered Dan’s name
One night as he sat with his drink
The piano was loud
And he saw through the crowd
A face, which made the man think
He once was a cop
And on occasion did stop
At the bar when Dan McGrew died
He looked at the face
But wasn’t sure of the place
That he knew it, but damn boys he tried
There’s a place saved in hell
For those under the spell
Of those who cheated out old Dan McGrew
In the stories it’s told
how his poke with his gold
Was stolen by someone he knew
Think of the name
Of the one living with shame
From Dan’s last night beneath the north star
Just who could build
A place always filled
A hotel and a popular bar
There on the stair
With long silvery hair
Through cigar smoke that made the air blue
Was the girl who once danced
And had Dan entranced
The girl known only as Lou
OPEN APOLOGIES TO CHINA
My sincere apologies to the nation China.
Light Dawns when there's illumination, situations becomes clearer.
I have stained your flag,
Disdain your land and given you a tag:
"Populated poisonously polluted people",
Gradually the world begin to see the real evil.
Sorry for the woundable worrying words
Targeted at you but we know the odds.
Vocable virucidal venomous attacks
Your whole land has taken while on the tracks.
Here comes the time to jettison wrong accusation
That isn't validated by a misconception,
Especially when the four beasts bible prophesied begins to show up,
Wuhan being a testing ground for 5G and Corona is sad enough.
Let's hope for the prevailing of God's agenda.
Accept my sincere apologies China.
VickWizzy
Copyright © 13th April, 2020.
Lord, it’s been a good chunk of time...
Been such a long time.
Time enough for me to know...
To know it so well.
Been without it too long...
Too long to take it.
And baby I need it...
And honey, you’ve got it.
And I need to have it...
So you need to share it.
Just send a little bit my way.
Lord, it’s been a mighty long time...
Sentenced to hard time.
Time to have to go without...
To struggle without it.
My need is so strong...
It’s stone-busting strong.
You know I crave it so bad...
So bad it’s sinful.
And it hurts me so good...
And you’ve got the goodies.
I just need to have it...
You need to breath it.
Just blow it on along my way.
I need your second-hand smoke...
Second-hand smoke.
I need thy kingdom to come...
Not nicotine gum.
In through the nose,
Out through the mouth...
I need your second-hand smoke.