Long Excuse Poems
Long Excuse Poems. Below are the most popular long Excuse by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Excuse poems by poem length and keyword.
You stank, and poo was once revealed when pants were pulled in playing field. Hard round briquettes, quite dry, like dung with straw sun-hard and undigested.
All kinds of unkind taunts and silly songs were sung and rumour did the rounds of Traveller’s goings on in dog-bark fenced compound.
Nothing known, but always just suggested.
What were your meals in trailer park, beside the fields, beside the rec,
beside the school where boys all played you for the fool, and girls sang ‘stinky bum’, and parent’s day didn’t see your dad, and did you even have a mum?
You struck a chin full fist when foot deployed to halt your playground dinky toy. Your anger clearly boiled beneath. Did you every day recoil from father’s buckled belt, or older brother’s fist, or even mother’s wounding cuffs confined to caravan
on drizzle chilly days as autumn shed cold leaf?
You walked with ricket bandied legs, a waddled painful labour.
I too was your tormentor, on endless friendless days and lonely playground corners, and classes where the empty desk was always nearest neighbour.
Your white and skinny scabied form found true excuse from sports.
No one saw 'there', beneath your shabby shorts, except the school and nit nurse. We always thought your underpants were wet, or stained, or worse,
and most days did you even wear your soiled and threadbare underwear?
Would these older opened eyes now see you as a son?
Would softened heart now empathise with how you had begun
your life and realise the pain and strife that laid your path,
where mine was carefree fun?
These older eyes are sorry now, with memory’s regret.
But yet that child knew not the pain that surely comes to all,
and tempered hearts cannot relive the spring before the fall.
There is a FRAUD and a THIEF
Apparently from Nigeria
Who plagiarizes all day long
He steals poetry for pleasure
And post on internet
Under his own name
His favorite source is
POETRYSOUP.COM
And who could blame him
We are the best cauldron
Of international poets
On the planet.
He goes by the name of ETTAH AUSTINE
And has no integrity, in his profile says:
"As a writer & a creator,
I'm giving you my experiences.
But just take what I give you.
You ain't got to pry beyond that."
The audacity… he’s basically admitting
That he’s stealing and not to ask questions !
ETTAH AUSTINE is a disgrace to POWER POETRY
He even has the gall to post a Leanne Rimes song!!!
They say the greatest form of flattery is theft of a poem
Or is it that the lowest shameless form
Of an excuse for a human being is a thief
We say get this ETTAH AUSTINE off the internet
If you resent having your poetry stolen
They’d love to hear it at
[email protected]
COLLABORATION FROM POETRYSOUP.COM POETS
You see I choose to refuse
the excuse I’m used
Leaves my soul feeling bruised
I’m so confused do I call a truce
I guess I assumed
I was doomed you see,
So I resumed my play
with the sweet smell
of perfume on me,
As I let you coerce me
through your diversity
in elegant spoken verse to me,
Yet that’s worse you see
Letting you immerse me
within your curse so urgently
leaving me to explore you nervously
it’s your being from head to floor
that’s so freeing
It’s your true being I was seeing,
embracing your very core
I fell deeply in love with you before
While to myself I swore
You I will always adore
So pardon this rude intrusion
But your my cure, and my solution
At the conclusion of this evolution
I can’t ignore it may be the illusion
of you I love more
Was I crazy to think I was entitled to your heart?
Oh, excuse me. This is exactly what entitlement looks like. The audacity, to even write in these exclusive parts.
How dare I put down in ink, my emotions or feelings about you?
If they truly ask, would you tell them the truth?
How crazy it is to think I stole your heart?
This heart that has only one owner and is only shared when it desires to, "but I love you".
Was I crazy to think I was entitled to your heart?
For me, to loan you mines, then for you to rip it apart.
Oh, excuse me! I guess I'm to blame, knowing I should have known better, "these" same games.
How crazy it is to think I stole your heart? Apparently, it wasn't mines from the start.
Form:
I said to Xavier, "Tell me what's up".
He said, "Nuthin'" and I said, "Yup".
It didn't seem like much of a conversation.
So, I said, "You'll have to excuse
me, but tell me somethin' I can use.
I'm looking for some good information".
Xavier said, "Son, it's all in a name,
and I'm awfully glad you came.
Sit down, and listen up".
Xavier wasn't known for his coffee brew,
but I said, "Sure, but may I ask you
for a cup?"
"When your name is announced,
it's best if it can't be pronounced.
Does it start with X or Z?,
And whatever kind of name you got
pick one that goes well with Cugat -
that's what I call poetry."
The minute I finished that coffee cup,
I cracked my knuckles and I stood up,
saying, "It's been a pleasure."
You might be surprised to hear
that conversation made my life clear...
helpful beyond measure.
Now, I understand, it's not the name.
A man or book is just the same
underneath its cover.
And while Xavier told me the opposite,
I've always felt he's full of "sh**".
That's what I'd discover.
And there's something else I found out
when we drank beer and caught some trout -
I hope he doesn't hold a grudge.
That guy who shoots off his mouth like that
every time we chew the fat?
His real name is Justin Smudge.
will love be decrepit when
trust is just a word thrown when we cannot win fights,
an excuse rather than a gospel… or is it long before then?
will love be decrepit when
she is home waiting, and he is alone under neon lights,
both drinking, asking, “can we ever be in the same room again?”
when she cannot speak as chaos seep into her pen,
and he cannot sleep knowing they want different nights
when there's no words left to exchange, is love decrepit then?
will love be decrepit when
he tells lies to avoid explanations, and she overlooks them to avoid fights.
a facade of rose gold castle, but what comes after then?
the silence in the castle can blind us, when
we swallow our differences to avoid plights.
love doesn’t lie, but people in love do, is love decrepit then?
truth is never love’s friend, not when
love falters the minute truth bites.
when we ask “will love be decrepit when—”
—it's already decrepit then.
Sometimes I try to figure out
what is going unsaid
But sometimes with the troubles I have
they are better left unsaid
Should I just give a card
and leave well enough alone
or throw caution into the wind
and break my silent growns
You indeed have found my full attention
and with it comes good intentions
But in all fairness I must first mintion
That a darkness is held over my commision
And what is my commision?
The pursuit of one who showed
a little intrest in me
A friendly conversation
a smile just ment for me
To think of you
I have new hopes
Day and night
You fill my dreams
But I have to face reality
About the illusive scene
And if my eyes deceived me
Then I beg you please forgive
Burn this note with all my pursuits
find my flatterings of so little use
Please treat me with as little abuse
As one who loved with little excuse
(Repost)
Day after day, I was sad and depressed.
All I thought about was Marie and her short dress;
Long flowing hair and beautiful smile:
I'm afraid I won't see her again for a while.
Night after night, I hadn't slept at all
While staring at the four corners of my wall.
Towards the end of June 2023,
I've been sweating like crazy from the haze and humidity.
I usually don't wake up at the crack of dawn,
Although it was seven on a Saturday morn.
I had to bring out of this misery spell:
It was time for this turtle to come out of his shell.
After I showered and made something to eat,
I prepared myself for the blistering heat.
4 hours later, I left my home,
But couldn't shake the fact that I was alone.
I went to a restaurant on Marcus Garvey
And watched "Family Feud" starring Steve Harvey.
I ordered a chicken sandwich with no cheese or bacon:
"Excuse me, monsieur. Is this seat taken?"
A female voice said to me.
It was none other than my summer love, Marie!
She flew all the way from France! What a surprise!
I gave her a hug with tears in my eyes.
I said, "Marie, I'm so glad you're here.
Would you like to join me for lunch and a root beer?"
"Oui, cutie pie," she said with a wink.
So I ordered more food and an extra drink.
I felt like bursting into a dance and song
Now that my loneliness is finally gone.
Marie from Paris is the one I'll treasure:
I love you, honey, always and forever.
The end
I’m constantly sleeping while you are away
From one dream to another I roam
Like people change stations, and trains in soft sway
Deliver them where to they go
When I wake up and there’s no sign around
That could remind me of you
I’m falling asleep and the day without sound
Falls in the evening blue
There’s no destination in dreams to arrive
On every station and street
I look for your face and this keeps me alive
Seems easy to live on a feet
I’m sleeping for years while you are away
Excuse me for this, if I’m wrong
But I’ll be awakened when you come to stay
As soon as you turn the light on.
You've ignited a fire beyond what you know,
my smooth hand glides providing the flow,
striking lightening that makes the mind blow,
you stole my rhymes and put them on show.
I followed the trail and look where it led,
a place full of those that are dead in the head.
I've had it with low lifes where plagiarism thrives,
you steal, you lie, and you will not survive!
Taking these rhymes of mine,
multiple times you swines,
disgraceful faces with empty brain spaces,
you have no place in the human race.
Posting all about the inspiration you taste,
you're nothing more than human waste.
Everytime I find what you've took,
I look to see what is the prize?
What do you get for these crimes?
You just get attention and praise,
what a sad way to live happy days.
Soaking up the limelight
making out you rhyme tight,
acting like you've got groove
while your reputation improves,
right up to the day that it falls through,
suddenly out of the blue I'm coming for you.
I will do to you whatever I choose,
I'll steal your laces make you a noose,
I wont give you time to say your excuse.
That poem you posted,remember who wrote it,
be aware of the fact you're poking a poet,
I'll write rhymes about you
I'll make jokes that are true,
exposing the truth with a hoof to the tooth,
the roast of the doofus stupendously useless.
You cannot match my catchy raps
so you best not try to snatch from my patch,
not any of my pieces with their sweet releases.
You live down on your knees
with your ear to ear breeze,
I rhyme with ease,
you've just climbed out the trees.
Remember that reputations will rise and will fall,
at the end is humiliation and you will feel like a fool,
so be wise, don't plagiarise and live a life of lies,
it'll steal your happiness,
and it will kill your pride.
Be wise, do not plagiarise.
(........ what you gonna do when I come for you?
plagiarise, plagiarise,
what you gonna do?
What you gonna do when I come for you?
Played your eyes, played your eyes,
what you gona do?
What you gonna do when I come for you?)