Best Excusing Poems
. "Listen first,.....to the voice in your head"
Okay, …if only we can catch the waitress’s eye, we could order more tea…
Can hardly believe it… Joan is still complaining about her in-laws
Peg interrupts, excusing herself to go to the ladies room
What was it she said about her husband burning breakfast?
It must have been funny, since everyone is laughing…
----
My eyes wander to the window….
I see some geese in the sky
Heading north... Oh my, summer has gone so quickly…
I must get the family together and go out to the lake one more time
We'll take a picnic, and let the children feed the geese...
I'll remember to buy day-old bread just for that,...
but we'll have to watch the children..
Last time one goose chased Suzanna, and she fell down, ....
…made her cry,…poor thing
It is so beautiful on the east shore….hopefully the water isn’t too cold
Maybe the children can still enjoy a swim…yes…we must do that soon….
----
Oops, Peg's back from the Ladies......
I'll scoot over, to make more room,.....
Hmm..looks like she's done something different with her hair...
Joan is still chattering about her weekend with the in-laws.....
----
How I long to be back at the lake again….on the beach in the sun….
Oh look there…just outside the window…
a whirlwind is gathering up a few leaves
Already rust and brown…edges curled with the touch of autumn
Yes, ….summer has gone so quickly…
.... .... .... .... .... ....
For the Contest: Summer's End
There’s Who I am, What I’ve done,
And Where I want to be.
And how I choose to view them each
Sets their priority.
Just saying this is Who I am
Excusing What I’ve done
Means Where I want to be remains
The place where I’ve begun
But if I say that What I’ve done
shapes Who I am complete
Then Where I want to be becomes
A goal I cannot meet
Yet knowing Where I want to be
Without the other two
Will leave me lost and wandering
In deserts I’ve gone through
Let What I’ve done be marker stones
On pathways within me
That guide me up from Who I am
To Where I want to be
10/16/22
ER: Enlightenment Recovery Poetry Contest
Like the autumn weaves warmth
With hope and grace,
Inspirations in temptations of laughing scarlet,
Blazing tangerine and glorious gold,
Soothing away the darkness as beautiful
Casts its shadow over my spirit,
A dream reflecting peace that rouses me to remember
Where there was a choice, reserved for joy,
Light was the sustaining power –
Arriving in my unwritten absence,
When bold flames of passionate bronze
Faded into the summer and reminded me why,
Why I was like the dwindling moon, sliding beneath
Stardust dreams, coloring the night
In ebony history – grimly waning ways,
Soothing away the fog of yesterday and creating
Intimacy in the bonds of laughter and compassion,
The seclusion so liberating, smiling into the moments,
Erasing the black and putting away the smallest tasks
Excusing melancholy and blaming dusk
For its exasperating way of giving in to doubt,
Listening to the enchantress, lunation
Who boldly praises the nocturnal memories,
Roaring and seeking temptations,
So wise and wonderful they cling to the flesh,
Like sweat shimmering and sliding,
Sticking to the moments in an abiding grace –
Is memory so brave as the reflection it gave,
The intimacy between two echoes,
Night and day, yesterday, the past – weaved
Into the present moment, erasing the wistful wish
Who dreams light yet focuses on the night
And remembers only to agree with autumn’s brave kindness,
The memory like a taunting of two thoughts,
One of love and one of sorrow, each with their own fears
Their very own tears and so many trusted years
When everywhere there was light
Poured out on endless stirrings of what it is
To give in to the past and its spirit,
The blessings rising like a mist across the mountains,
The moments when life fades in sterling sands
Visions of kindness when life is truth
And life binds the days with praise,
An aching praise who restores and renews,
Invites the beautiful to breathe
And the sadness to grieve…
This is the past and it’s healing will give hope
To the ones who remember
A clinging ache, meant to break…
Yes, there is victory in the faith who believes
God wins – in the end, GOD WINS!
Slow and steady, I follow the winding black road
to no where. A stream of gray smoke
escapes my lips, and it begins to swirl, folding over itself
until vanishing with the wind. And I just drive.
I feel the night air as it hits
my face, covering me in cold. I inhale more black tar,
exhaling less fear, I can breathe once more.
The fresh air of the night, becomes a friendly acquaintance
hovering over me, and excusing me for
interrupting it. And I just drive.
The yellow lines flash by me as I sit,
stepping on the gas, moving faster
hoping the night will send me to the
Day. I drive over the lines
and onto a ledge, over looking the mountains.
I can almost touch Orion's Belt.
I inhale once more, white smoke escaping,
as I flick my friend,
saying bye for the last time.
Up through the mountains where I
hit the acceleration and fly
Ode to my last cigarette, and now
I just drive into the sun.
I just drive.
Carefully coiffuring the etiquette garden of the cascading words
Trimming the elegant exuberant plethora of stumbling somnolent leaves
Happened upon an opulent slithering serpent and some bees
Hiding within the myriad of sublime transcendent trees
Shrieking in a shrill voice a cacophony was heard
And the shunned godly creature
Slithered serenely from the place of my obstreperous yells
And the words fell back into a peaceful tranquility and tune
Excusing the moments as serendipitous and absurd
But was harangue for no reason except tales of Slew (Foot)
And went about my business without any further adieu
Copyright
@Bonnie Gay Jennings, or Bonnie Jennings or Boondoggling with Bojenn @Wordpress 2013 to present 2016 ~
Predatory
monsters mingle
Guilefully gratifying their
using; abusing; confusing; excusing
behaviour
God Understands
In life, we tend to make excuses
For all the things we did
And blame our childhood
It started when we were kids
What about being raised on the right
Track in church since the age of 2
How do you explain why you are
Doing, or do the things you do
God gives us choices and he
Knows the aftermath
But we use God’s grace as an excuse
To choose the wrong path
God understands that loneliness
Works best for me
I have random love partners not
Thinking of death or STD
God understands that I drink to
Pull away from reality’s hell
Not once thinking about the
Organs that will fail
God understands my need for
Someone to hold me at night
Do you think he will send a woman
Or man you constantly have to fight
God understands us all
He made both me and you
He wants us to know
That he understands
Every situation and problem
We go through
Have you ever thought what
Would happen if you fell short
Of God’s grace and glory one day
Have you ever thought what would
Happen if God turns a deaf
Ear when you pray
A thought you don’t want to answer
Or really want to know
Show a little gratitude to the man
That caught you when you
Felt like letting go
Make wiser choices
And do what’s right
Don’t be that worrisome person
That only calls when they
Want something at night
We all have a manual, (the Bible)
On how to have a smoother life and
Constant protection by God’s hand
So read the guideline and get more
Pride about yourself, and stop excusing
Your habits with well----------
God understands.
Overflowing like the sparkling spring from acerbity,
The emerald stones on the relieve peak
Causing welling up like stormy waves,
And breath taking halt, grunting
Roar as the thundering drums reverberating;
The window pout unfold a feature
As when open wide,
Spoilt by the joyful loudness of croaking;
Grief lips drawn taut
Drop spreading flow,
Drop to wash the ripe Apple cheeky, drop
And meandering through grooves and porous ream
Obstacles of pendants and pillars;
Conclusively arrived, making the jugular waterfall,
Cascading into sea of tears.
True, men do not weep
That bespeaks Hercules vaunting ego,
But, I thank you sir,
Often they sob now or before
Not for unfaithful heart breaks
For loves aplenty,
Not often loves for not excusing
In passing by to greater beyond,
But on lucrative dear deal that sore gone,
On capital fretted away
On good look in,
But crash without remorseful pity
The masculine effeminately swim in river of tears.
Strokes of wipes to back from savage master
The oppressive bully to hapless youth,
Which draws livid reddish lines picture
And rabid yell of agony on twisted mouth,
When puerile little lad yelp
Could be for appeasing breast
But, definitely not for help,
Could lustfully be warmth of mama’s arms,
Things we’re n't aware but peradventure leg to arms
Or nothing, whichever way,
Their stubborn screaming suggest
Ways of impuissant expressing unanswered request.
Tears of gladness
Moved to elevating joy,
To see again long time lost love,
Surely for ages and time agone
Surprising hugs with all kisses,
Dearest who aforethought cross beyond
But now you are prospering.
New England's post election trees
shed a few teary waving leaves.
Morning sky tries to shine resilience
yet lingers in ominous grey overcast
of silent waiting through despair.
In Michigan and Wisconsin and Pennsylvania
tens of thousands of mothers
who cherish their daughters
are beating themselves up about yesterday;
longing for a do-over
to avoid confidence in false predictions
of safely voting their libertarian ecoconsciousness,
or too quietly staying home
to rake falling fertile leaves.
Failing leaves feel their personal mortality,
too old, over-extended, to survive another bitter winter
of expatriation
while maternal nurturing root systems survive through hibernation,
deeply embedding in Earth's nutritional compost
of yeasty faith,
waiting for another Advent ecopolitical Season.
Not a branch,
not even a twig stirs from frosty lethargy
wondering Why?
Why would we decide slavery must be illegal
because immoral
yet sexual and capital and incorporated predation
remains legally and morally ambiguous,
as if wealth of male supremacist nobility
were God's full harvest of regenerative moral gifts,
excusing by betraying grace
this fortunate entitlement
of LeftBrain enduring cockiness
to welcome winter's misery,
Earth's hiatus from integrally nurturing ecology.
Hiding even the sun's radiant morning glory
from disunited piles of leaving ballots
already preparing to fertilize richer soils
in four more autumnal climate years.
I look in the mirror and I lock eyes with a vile wretch
The physical embodiment of mankinds ugliest stares back
Peering into a window I catch a glimpse of every imperfection buried deep within my soul
I shatter the mirror the pain of the reflection overpowering the feelings of the glass now stuck in my hand
Another reminder of why life has always tip toed around my existant
excusing itself to a world relieved of my presence
free from the uncomfortable questions of a curious mind
And the free expression of a soul that danced to its own seranade for lack of a better option
Free from a spirit that could not be contorted into the place society had etched out for it
But contorting into something unwanted something disconcerting
carving a way through unfamiliar terrain in the hope of finding a place it could call home
Gathering scars and wounds so deep they cut into the soul tainting it with the corruption and hate
spilling out of the daggers of alienation stabbing from unkind strangers in a world of contempt
glowing brighter with every new experience unclear of whether its transcending or descending
growing graceful and grotesque colouring outside of the lines of societies expectances
On this journey my eyes lock with a pair of blue-green eyes shining with the brightness of familiarity
But where in the mirror I had seen something odd, out of place and unwelcome
in her eyes danced the beauty of the universe's most perfect creation
The oddities and strangeness not subtracting from but somehow adding to her mysterious charm
Where I saw the failure in my own design reflected in her I saw only the perfection of a vibrant soul
My scientific mind had its first taste of destiny as the will of fate was pulling at my heartstrings
As if all of the struggles of life had been overcome just for this one moment where I could see this being of a divinity
And in the reflection of my eye she saw only the reflection of herself a reflection society had told her to depise
like the vile wretch of a man society tells her is standing before her
but she sees in me the same that I see in her
an essence of perfection whose far too good for me
If all people accept evil, color the world, Red.
We have lost genuine respect and love for all life!
Yes, I do mean Communism, with whom America, sleeps in bed.
Innocent unborn, slashed to pieces, with an abortionist’s shiny knife.
And, oh how we howl and berate with jealosy,all the wealthy!
We gave up caring for our children’s innocent, bright souls..
Excusing those elected, who steal our money quite stealthily.
Who teach ungodly sex, and that was never, ever our goal!
Teachers cannot replace your familiy’s Judaeo-Christian values.
So, get them out of public schools, for as a parent you are mocked.
Transgenderism is the new, abominable, government, regious rule.
Even one Supreme Court judge, knows not what a woman is, a total shock.
In the USA, people proudly march, drool and shout for death!
Standing for life or God, makes one the object of brutality.
And howling for murder is not considered any threat?
Thus, we give birth to a total heathen, egotistical dynasty.
4/22/2023
Drowning the inner temperament babble,
Every drop desperately taken to escape,
Attempt to suppress delusions from acts of travel,
The cure, a simply complex psychotherapy mandate.
In an irritate direction towards premonitory fate,
Compulsively obsessed self-cognition ignored,
Fear that nearby sanatorium awaits,
Reflections give credence that mental stupor is adored.
Redundant dysphoria dances with superfluous isolation,
Relieving aid found in a paradox of intoxication,
Fathomed continuance of abuse requires excusing imploration,
Humor devised to disguise ominous personification.
"JESUS,I'M SORRY THE
ENEMY WAS ME
FOR WHAT I WANTED
REPLACED YOUR
LOVE THAT WAS SHED FOR ME
WAY BACK AT CALVARY
I REPLACED MYSELF
MOVED MYSELF FROM
YOUR HOLY WAYS
FORGETTING THAT
IT WAS YOU WHO GAVE
MY SOUL ALLOWED
ME TO SEE 31 YRS
THE ENEMY HAS
BEEN ME
POINTING THE FINGER
AT OTHERS WHAT
I THOUGHT THEIR SINS
I COULD SEE
I KEPT DENYING THAT
THE ENEMY WAS ME
BUT I STILL THAT YOU
JESUS FOR YOUR GIFTS
OF GRACE AND MERCY
EXCUSING ME
AND EVERY OTHER BLESSING
EVEN THOUGH THE ENEMY
HAS BEEN ME."
?
I wouldn't want you to walk away
with any miscalculations about me.
I am about as wild and crazy as society will allow
without confinement for my own protection.
Whenever I read a self-marketing sign
Please Help...
Vacancies of home and body,
Needing to be filled.
I feel bearers of these signs
of proper society's margins
raw and naked,
erased to try again.
When I notice long-haired grunge,
low-budget nomads with backpacks and shopping carts,
heading toward me asking to not be excused
for excusing relationships they need,
I head in their direction
to find our best resurrection
of civility
together.
My husband begrudges every dime
and points out I'm too wild
for pouring mostly alcohol
or worse down throats
without a home.
He claims they're addicted suicides
awaiting death's forgiving embrace.
But, I say this is too often true
and who am I to judge
those who explore doing their best
of worst available options
through self-medication
mixed with sheltered soups
and public kitchens
serving lines of autocracy's dark drama
Were I or he on that street
rejected by our own history of defeat
I would hope to find those wise enough to stay
with me long enough
to help medicate
lubricate
meditate my way
to suffer with human emptiness
and ask me please to stay,
tell MAGAs all my blues,
sing and dance this suffering
buffering away.
I'm retired.
Have more cash than I could ever need,
and don't want to go out that way,
hoarding funds for those who already have too much
while somewhere out there stands
a homeless sign whose bearer
needs to drink her lunch
at least and most this day.
If our legacy manifests
both what we do for love
and what we do not do from fear
and shame
and blame
If both our actions and omissions,
our positives and negatives,
remain behind to feed up and starve out our kids,
then why would I not choose
to offer social caring
when uncivilized neglect to care is so clearly that of which
this homelessness was made.
Got some friends from across the sea
Who yell gesundheit every time they sneeze
A German word for health
And for excusing oneself
For getting gunk on each bystander's chemise