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Big Virge Sep 2020
Excuses Excuses...
So MANY EXCUSES... !!!

For The Type of Looseness...
That Has Embraced NOOSES... !?!

EXCUSES For THIS...
EXCUSES For THAT...

EXCUSES For Plans...
That Have CORRUPTED Man...

BAD EGGS In The Batch... !!!
Where Policeman Are Hatched... !!!

Oh YES Bad Eggs INDEED... !!!
Is How RACIST Cops Be...
When RACISM Feeds...
Their Motives On Streets...

And In Turn How They Deal...
When They’re Using Their Knees... !!!

And Using Their... GUNS...
Like These Tasers That Stun... !!!

And Choke Holds That DON’T... !!!!!
When They Leave People COLD... !!!

Excuses UNFOLD...
Even When They Are Shown...
To Move... So Much SICKER...
Than Those Known As KILLERS... !!!

Excuses Come QUICKER...
Than Confession Sinners... !!!

Because of Protection...
These Bad Eggs Be Getting...
From Those Who NEED VETTING... !!!
BEFORE They Pass Sentence... !!!!!

These Excuses I Mention...
Are Those With DEFECTIONS... !!!

That Need REAL CORRECTION...
That’s Neutral And... CENTRED... !!!

Like... Natural Selection... !!!

There Are Others That SMOTHER...
...... Historical Blunders...... !!!
Like Those Now UNCOVERED...
About... CERTAIN Brothers...
Who Sold Their Own Mother’s... !?!

For... Colonial Masters...
A... FACTUAL DISASTER...
That’s Been So Well Plastered...
That EXCUSES Run Talk...
That IS STUPID And FLAWED... !!!
When It Comes To The Past...
And YES... Slavery Paths... !!!

You See Some EXCUSES...
Breed... MORE THAN Denial... !!!

They Hold Certain Files...
That Are TRULY OBSCENE...
Within... Black History... !!!

Like Those Now EXPOSED...
About... Certain White Folks...

Who’ve Earned Money For Shows...
With... BLACKFACE Videos...
And RACIST Themed JOKES... !?!

That Are FORCING These Peeps...
To Make... APOLOGIES...

As If They Will CLEAN...
Their Slates With Black Peeps’... ?!?

And Of Course Yes EXCUSES... !!!
For Things They’ve Been Doing...
That Lacked... Racial Prudence...

So Just Like The Others...

These Excuses PROVE LOOSENESS...
Is Something That Humans...
Exude In Their Movements...

And In... CERTAIN CHOICES...
That Have Done MORE Than POISON... !!!

Yes... HUMANITY... !!!

When... ACCOUNTABILITY...
Is What NEEDS To INCREASE... !!!

Because These FALLACIES...
Are What Make Some Heads Feel...
That It’s Best To... "Conceal"...

Themselves Behind LIES...
And... FRAUDULENT Deeds... !!!

And The Need To Keep Choosing...

To AVOID Being TRUTHFUL...
Instead of Indulging...

... In All These...

......... “ EXCUSES “....... !!!
Kind of getting sick of hearing them now....
Pea  Feb 2015
Old TV Projects
Pea Feb 2015
Sweaty face bright purple and greasy
I used to hide my body between the pages
But he told me to not read any more

Itchy head heated enough to make tea
My eyes are now how the trees say my name
My eyes are now the leeches I put in empty tampons

Sweaty neck I only want some traces of lips
Sweaty palms I only want some other fingers
Sweaty thighs I only want to walk well

******* sad wrapped in plastic
Cranky child trapped in old wrinkling skin
It may well be irrational excuses

Womb nervous and not worthy
Cerebral excuses, hormonal excuses
Highly sensitive person excuses

Delayed maturity excuses
Premenstrual syndrome excuses
Premature menopause excuses

Abusive motherhood at 5
Traumatic childhood at 18
What happens in between stays in between
Fallen Angel May 2015
"I'm just tired..."
Excuse one for the silence that ensues.
She listens as he tells her he refuses to hurt her
...even though she aches as the words leave his lips.
Triple chocolate chocolate chip frosting is all she wants.

"I didn't sleep well..."
Excuse two for the agitated responses.
Her best friend has distanced herself
...but expects her to just sit by and wait to be wanted again.
Triple chocolate chocolate chip frosting gags her.

"It was a rough night..."
Excuse three for the silent tears that stream down her face.
Her father tells her she's a spoiled, stupid *****
...but acts like he's a genius that's greater than God.
Food loses its appeal entirely.

"I don't need a mirror to see myself..."
Excuse four for her avoidance of reflective surfaces.
Her mirror has become her worst enemy
...reflecting her flaws and screaming her issues.
She no longer has an appetite.

"I'm fine"
Excuse five... and six for all the things she does in a day.
She's breaking, crying, and dying
...but its been repeated so many times her friends have begun to believe it.
Food now makes her want to throw up.

"Excuses, Excuses"*
seven, eight, nine, ten for all the things she needs to deny
her mask of a smile makes everyone believe them all
...no one realizing how unhappy she is
she eats...but only because she doesn't want them to worry.
The excuses of a broken girl
Autumn Nov 2014
Here I am making excuses for you.
Saying:
             He didn't know I was there.
             He didn't see me walk by.
             He didn't get my text.
             He didn't have a good day.
             He didn't have a day off this week.
No longer am I making excuses for you.
So here's what I am saying:
             You didn't try hard enough.
jeffrey conyers  Aug 2012
Excuses
jeffrey conyers Aug 2012
I guess executives like people major in excuses.
Everytime something drastic happens.
We know the comment or generalization is coming.

We know when gas prices arises.
That an excuse is coming our way.
Do they think we were born yesterday.

If a forest fire happens.
If rain never comes.
We know prices of fruit will be like a track runner.
Excuses.
Some legit.
Some just given.

We constantly aware of that late employee.
Where you're just waiting to hear that one news.

Traffic was bad.
Or something else given to cover up being late.
Excuses.
Some confirmed.
Others unconfirmed.

A honest days work for your boss.
Just to hear them say get out.
Because we filing bankruptcy's today.
Excuses.
We all can't say we hadn't used one.
Because we are only human.

Late for a date.
You better have a good reason.
And, we complain about the lateness of the seasons

Excuses.
Something we never get use too.
Luke Twyne Mar 2016
They started down the gravel road
Road seemingly leading to better places
Road joining paths with an unsure hold?
Road changing heartbeats paces??

Pardon his excuses?
He knows he is rapidly falling in love with you?
He fears that you may never feel the same?
He knows not the things you want him to do?
He fears his can never your wild heart tame??

Pardon her excuses?
She knows your intentions are pure?
She fears that you are like the rest?
She knows that your love is her cure?
She fears that you're also just another guest??

Pardon his excuses?
He has loved to wildly, to deeply?
He now has scars upon his hidden heart?
He has waited to long to live simply?
He now wants to have a slower start

Pardon her excuses ?
She now knows they cannot love her?
She has tried many times to believe different?
She now thinks pain lives when venturing deeper?
She has too many times been swept by love's currents??

Pardon their excuses?
They have loved and burnt hearts?
They have lived and frozen thoughts?
They have risen and ascended heights?
They have fought and lost life's fights?
They have lost the courage to aim for summers loving smiles and winters duel embrace nights
Salmabanu Hatim Aug 2018
Excuses,excuses,excuses,
I am tired of you lazies,
For once why don't you handover your homework on time,
Thus, make my life devine.
Don't tell me your little sibling tore your homework,
Or you were absent, such bad luck,
Your grandmother spilled tea on your maths sheet,
Here, to give you is not fit.
I am tired of your lame pretexts,
Finish at break,I will be less vexed
What!You  finished your homework and you left it at home,
Well, call your mum to bring it when she comes,
I didn't understand the topic, can you please explain,
What were you doing when I went over it again and again?
I started to do my homework when the lights went off,Sir,
Most homes now have inverters
or generators.
I know you find the tasks I give you a bore,
Do you think marking them at home I adore?
So, please help me not to spoil your break or give you detention.
Do your homework on time and with great attention.
Olivia-Grace  Jun 2016
Excuses
Olivia-Grace Jun 2016
Stop giving him excuses.
He wasn't too busy to reply.
He should have at least said goodbye.
Stop giving him excuses.
He wasn't to busy to call.
He should have given it his all.
Stupid girl, stop giving him excuses.
He wasn't there for you like he should be.
He should have the decency to see.
So please.

Stop giving him excuses,
Reasons for him not to care.
Because for you to be treated like ****,
Isn't and never will be fair.
apathy  Nov 2013
excuses
apathy Nov 2013
" i'm just tired,"
" its been a long day,"
"i'm sick,"
" i'm stressed,"
they are all excuses I use every single day

one day,
people will look past my excuses,
then, what will I say?

i'm not tired, i'm depressed
it hasn't been a long day, its been an endless one
i'm not sick, i'm just dying inside

when will the excuses end?
when can I stop lying?
I've already stopped fighting

you can make excuses for almost everything
but not when your dead
Casey Dandy Aug 2012
So you have an email that won’t get to me
So you have a life that’s fancy-free
So you have some dogs and mis’rable wife too
So you have your gun
And you have your excuse

So you have a few pictures, pictures of me
So you have some fake little stories
So you have new family and the sun’s shining too
So you have your addiction
And you have your excuse

Excuses, excuses
I’m so tired.
Excuses, excuses

They’re not enough to unbreak my heart
And they’re not enough to heal these scars
You went with the wind, changed my world
You left with no sign, not even goodbye
No apology, just a lie

So I’m supposed to let it go
So I’m supposed to be the adult
So I’m supposed to forgive and forget
How can I if you don’t regret it
Breaking my heart, weaving your lie
Spitting your words, making me cry
Cry, cry, cry, cry

How can I forgive? you’re not sorry.
How can I live? you took my life.
How can I believe you? all you do is lie.
How can I?

I’ve been hurt more than anyone should
All at your hand
So now it’s goodbye, goodbye for good.
A pre-cursor to my "The Truth, Daddy Dearest" era. I wrote this at age 17, as a pop/rock song, and it was published in my high school's literary magazine. Pretty cliche, huh?
Tommy Johnson  Dec 2013
RISE
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
You can hear the voices of our peers being silenced, ignored, shunned and distorted.
Staggering out of their bedroom doorways to the street corner to score a dime bag.
Bright, insightful millennials freezing in search of warmth from something to believe in that will encourage them to look forward to see another day.
Where our economy has made financial prudence clear when talking about education, yet price tags of university tuition's skyrocket.
The refused, the ones with hope but no money or scholarships; tread the streets with the echoes of electro house pulsing in their skulls.
Those who strip themselves down and shred their own morals to scraps just to find themselves and to see their own limitations.
Searching for answers to the unknown, to ascertain what they are, who they are and why.
Timid in high school, pushed along with nothing and no one to put their creative vigor into.
The squeakiest wheels that were never even considered to be given a good greasing.
Faculties giving them lethargic hellos on the first day of school, bestowing celebrated goodbyes to them on graduation day, diplomas in hand.
Now are the ones slumped over in a lackadaisical position contemplating how they can afford an education.
They work eight to ten at seven twenty five an hour Monday to Friday; and weekends staying in as not to blow their earnings.
Those who commute to university and balance a job with it, I applaud you.
The bewilderment of adulthood, the overabundance of pressure and responsibility.
Awakened from nightmares of lost opportunities, missed trains and lost contacts.
To step out of bed and splash water onto a severely distressed face and staring into a mirror with a despairing look.
Then hoping a bus to Garfield to bring back weight for all the embryonic smokers not yet at the point of make or break, just save up enough to pave my own way.
Gazing at the town on a roof top, chugging down the tenth…no…twelfth beer of the night wondering how this all happened.
Wild sensations of kissing an attractive stranger, the rush of touching on things never felt, tasting pleasures only the lucky have known.
The passionate, yet dissolute yearning for that ever eluding ******* adrenaline. Pounding, Pounding, Pounding until the culmination of energy has come.
Flip sided to those dizzying, tear jerking thoughts of suicide, annihilation of ones being, the contradictions of their faith in themselves and the people around them.
Unexplainable waves of anxiety crashing onto the shore of a diminutive island of optimism
Striving to look past the panic, the gloominess and fury that may or may not be present. But to remain composed and press forward to what awaits them.
Coffee keeps them going. Cup after cup, late night cramming every bit they can; into their caffeine driven psyches until the indisputable crash and failure.
Packs and packs of menthol cigarettes to calm their rattling nerves but at the same time killing them slowly. Their lives will seem shorter than the time it took to finish one bogey when death is near.
Marijuana induced ventures to run down burger shacks, laughing hysterical in the car ride, eyes heavy with a most ridiculous elastic grin extending from ear to ear. While inside millions of thoughts and realizations of consciously simple speculations and troubles become clear and unproblematic. So the joy is mirrored outside in.
LSD trips in Petruska dancing and singing in the rain! Making music, making love; playing pretend and creating art. Becoming a family while kicking back under the warmth of an illuminated tree on a cool fall night.
MDMA streaming through the body, everything is as it should be
Beautiful, lovely to touch, wondrous to stroke, marvelous to move.
To contact and connect, converse and converge with the dwelling desire to share what you feel with everyone for it would be selfish and unpleasant to keep it in.
Mushrooms oh the emotional overflow I need not say more but ****.
Then there are over the counter candies, Oxycontin, ******, Adderall and Xanax, painkillers and antidepressants. Ups, downs, side ways and backwards.
Selling addiction and dependency legally to kids. Making heroine, ******* and speed easily obtainable to them. Changing the names and giving out prescriptions so the parents can feel like they're actually helping their children but are subconsciously making it easier on themselves because they cannot handle the way their offsprings actually are. Some parents a feel it is the only way, I wish it wasn't so. Becoming zombies, mindless addicts before they even start to mature into puberty. I've seen it, firsthand front row.
Oh, the monotonous, mundane rituals and agendas of our lives. School, work, sleep eat, the sluggish schedules and repetitions of yesterday's conversations and redundancy of itineraries we had plotted months prior.
Same people, the constant faces of boredom that groan in apathy and hold the fear of complacency.
We talk about how hum drum out lives have become and what we could to put some color in our world but don’t.
We speak of how unfair the system is but ultimately confuse ourselves and everyone else due to lack or organization and dedication so nothing is changed.
We speak of breath taking women we want to share ****** fantasies with but can’t even muster enough courage to send a trivial friend request.
Texting away for hours trying to court those who now occupy our minds and possess our hearts hoping they may allow us to acquire their attention and affection. Calling them only to receive futile dial tones and know we are being evaded.
Weeping on and on for seemingly endless time frames of a dilapidated relationship that was so strained that a miniscule breeze could cause it to collapse but still clinging to every memory as if they were vital hieroglyphics depicting your very essence.
Brilliant theories blurted out in a drunken stupor.
Ingenious hypothesis shrouded in marijuana smoked out room.
Remembrance of friends long gone.
The marines, the navy.
The casualties of drug addiction.
The conquerors or their afflictions.
The scholars.
The insane locked away on the flight deck never to be seen again.
Teenage mothers unsure of themselves, abandoned by their families for they believe that they brought fictional shame upon the family’s name. The fate of the child is unclear but the mother’s everlasting love shines through any obscurities in its way.
Dear mother of the new born winter’s moon may the aura of life protect you and your baby.
The father gone without a trace.
He will never know his daughter.
And it will haunt him forever.
Parents bringing up their kids with values and morals, The Holy Bible, mantras and meditation, the Holy Quran, The Bhagavad Gita, and Upanishads. Islamic anecdotes and Jewish parables.
The names all different
The message the same
The stories unlike
Goals equivalent
Faith
Kabala, Scientology and Wicca
Amish and Mormons
All separate paths that intertwine and runoff each other then pool into the plateau of eternal life.
But do we have faith in our country, our government?
They do not have faith in us. Cameras on every street corner, FBI agents stalking social media, recordings of our personal lives and police brutality. 4th amendment where have you gone?
We say farewell to Oresko the last veteran of the last great war. And revisit the Arab spring, Al-Assad’s soldiers opening fire on innocent protesters, one hundred fifteen thousand lay dead. Bin laden dead, Hussein hanged, Gaddafi receiving every ounce of his comeuppance. War, terrorism, the fear of being attacked or is it an excuse to secure our nation's investments across the sea? Throwing trillions of dollars to keep the ****** machine cranking away, taxes, pensions, credit scores, insurance and annuities all cogs in the convoluted contraptions plight.
My dear friend contemplates this every night laying in bed, fetal position; the anxiety if having to be a part of this.
Falling apart on the inside but on the outside, an Adonis, *******, Casanova wanna be. Who worshiped the almighty dollar, gripping it so tightly until it made change, drank until he had his fill falling face first into the snow. The guy who lead on legions of clueless girls wearing their hearts on their sleeves not knowing he had a girlfriend the entire time. Arranging secret meetings in hidden gardens, streaking into the early morning. Driving to Ewing in his yellow Mustang to woo a sado masochistic girl. The chains and whips do nothing to him he is already numbed by the thrill. Then he comes home, lays in bed until one, with no job and having people pay for his meals.
He knows what he does and who he is wrong. He recites and regurgitates excuses endlessly. He cries because he knows he is weak, he knows he must fix himself. I sit on the edge of myself with my fingers crossed hoping maybe, maybe he will set himself straight.
My chum who can talk his way out of any confrontation and into a woman’s *******. Multitudes of amorous affairs in backrooms, backseats, front rows of movies theaters. Selfish, boastful and ignorant, yet woman fling themselves at him like catapulted boulders over a medieval battle field just to say hello. These girls blind to see what going on, for their eyes were taken by low self esteem. A need to be accepted, to feel wanted even only for fifteen minutes. Poor self image, daddy issues, anorexic razor blade slicing sirens screaming on about counted calories and social status. Their uncontrollable mental breakdowns and emotional collapse. Their uncles who ***** them, their parents who split up and confusing their definition of love and loyalty for the rest of their lives. Broken homes, domestic abuse and raised voices, sending jolts of fright into the young girl’s fragile minds. I send my sorrows to you ladies, to see such beautiful creatures suffer then be used and thrown away with the ****** that was just ****** deep into their *****.
Then I see women and men of marvelous stature, romantic in the streets holding everyone and everything in high regards. Finding beauty in anything and anyone. Enjoying every second as if the rapture was over head eating exotic foods from unheard of countries and cultures. Bouncing to the sound of whimsical , reverb ricochets and sense stimulating music. Huffing inspiration to create something out of thin air. Dancing to retired jazz and swing albums as if no time had past since their conception. Wearing bold colors and patterns, thrifty leather shoes or suede.
Dawning pre-owned blazers because why spend hundreds of dollars on new clothes just to look good but feel uncomfortable with a hole in your pocket. Dressing up but dressing down, so class yet urban I love it, chinos, pea coats and flannels so simple but chic.
At night they go to underground dens, sweaty bodies, loud music and freedom. Expressive manifestations glowing fueled with MDMA and other substances to further their enjoyment of the dark glorious occasion. Kandi kids sporting colorful bracelets, not watches for time is of no concern to them, they have all eternity they know that.
Going to book stores, coffee shops just to have some peace of mind and a moment of silence to themselves so that can weave the tapestry of imaginative innovation. Writing their own versions of the same story, endless doors of perception, reading news papers and taking it with a grain of salt. Watching the news on TV with a hand full of salt. Searching for the real story so they can know if the world they all live in is actually safe.
She who made her own way breaking hearts, rolling blunts and making deals. The flower child of the modern age, left the rainy days in search of radiant sunshine, idealistic. Reality was subjective, purple dyed hair, multicolored sweater with sandals on her feet. A ten inch bowl with bud from California packed in tightly. Coming from Dumont to Bergenfeild then on to Philly to Mount Vernon. Off to Astoria and the Heights. Now to Sweden laying in the grassy plains below the mountains. Good for you my friend whom I have loved, may fortunes of unsullied joy come to you and all you meet.
Since you’ve left I have encountered drunken burly firemen just trying to have a good time. Pounding down Pabst Blue Ribbon as if it were water; as if it were good tasting beer. But heroes none the less.
EMT's, young eighteen years old high school graduates, saving lives reviving people who are a mere inch close to death.
Sport stars getting scholarships thanks to their superior skills and strength.
Striking beauty school students who are into making the people of this world a little bit more beautiful on the outside.
All these people, successful, doing things. Departing to their desired destinations. I see inside them, they carry baggage, loneliness and insecurities. I can feel their guilt slowing them down. All have their loads but it’s the way they carry them that shows who they really are. And to me their all gems.
Not far in Paterson I watch the junkies limping across busy winding street, perusing a severely needed fix. “Diesel!” they shout beneath flickering streetlights, asking for spare change and if bold enough a ride to some shady sketchy place. I give them a dollar and politely decline. They’ll die without it. Vomiting up bile and blood, twitches and shivers are all you feel when it’s not in you. They cannot stop, they need help. Why not help them instead of “assisting” those who are homosexual? Cleansing so they can be granted entry to the kingdom of God. Looking down on people who have found love and understanding and a deep attraction to others who just so happen to share alike genitals.
Narrow minded uproars about the spread of AIDS, nonsense! The puritanical onslaught of those who want nothing more than the rest of us, love. "Gay", "****", "******", "queer", how about "kind", "funny", "genuine human being"? The right to be married and divorced should be an option for everyone to enjoy. The strains and hardships of matrimony are yours if you want them. If you don’t agree don’t hate or harm just allow them to be peacefully. Same goes for anything for that matter, Jehovah's going door to door, Mormons from Burbank. New ideas are never a bad thing, they’re not a waste of time. On average you have about eighty years to mull over your options.
Some people don’t live long enough to do so, cancer is rampant, blood diseases, ****** diseases, natural disasters coming right out of left field and blindsiding the innocent bystanders of both hemispheres. Some go through life handicapped, autism is apparent these days. Schizophrenia, Asperburgers, ADD and ADHD. Some lose their golden memories of their many valuable years walking down Alzheimer's Lane, not being able to remember whatever transpired only a few moments ago but revisiting gold nuggets from from fifty-some-odd years ago with ease. Some go through life delusional or bipolar. Some can't even sleep at night but they still carry on. And if assistance is needed it is our job as a race to help our brothers and sisters, no one deserves to be excluded from the gala of life. Or be denied by society and pumped with brightly colored pills from doctors promising a cure but prescribing a crutch.
Finding solace in sincerity.
The serendipity of it all hasn’t been uncovered and that keeps me going.
“Radiate boundless love towards the entire world above, below and across. Unhindered without ill will without enmity.” Oh Buddha the truth as it ever was.
Who is he who keeps these thoughts from the conscious minds of the population?
Who is it that distracts us from the humbling beauty and overwhelming devastation of this place of existence we’re in?
It’s they who do under the table parlor trick behind our backs.
Those who broadcast mind numbing so called reality TV shows without an underlying value or meaning.
Those who produce music, proclaiming extravagance to be the end all be all gluttonous goal we all should aim to achieve.
And those who turn noble causes into money making scams and defile pure ideas.
And of course those who give false promises of easily obtained  bright futures, those who don’t care, those who steal, ****, curse, bad mouth and lie. But still manage to get elected into positions that more or less decide out fates. Monsters, demons, banshees howling inconsequential worries and leaving us deaf to hear the real issues.
The
"--you know, I've either had a family, a job, something
has always been in the
way
but now
I've sold my house, I've found this
place, a large studio, you should see the space and
the light.
for the first time in my life I'm going to have a place and
the time to
create."
no baby, if you're going to create
you're going to create whether you work
16 hours a day in a coal mine
or
you're going to create in a small room with 3 children
while you're on
welfare,
you're going to create with part of your mind and your
body blown
away,
you're going to create blind
crippled
demented,
you're going to create with a cat crawling up your
back while
the whole city trembles in earthquakes, bombardment,
flood and fire.
baby, air and light and time and space
have nothing to do with it
and don't create anything
except maybe a longer life to find
new excuses
for.

— The End —