Apology for Her
852
Apology for Her
Be rendered by the Bee—
Herself, without a Parliament
Apology for Me.
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Proverbial Song
One to the dog,
Two to the pig,
Three to the opossum which lives around you;
For an apology is rendered freely.
My terms and your terms,
And living in the wolrd of terms to stay alive;
But many still find it difficult to apologise.
He who steals and run awy will live to steal another day,
But the splashes of the sea are very far from me.
I am the proverbial song and the Teddy Bear among the lions!
And you are the Queen of Diva across the parapet;
But many cannot render an apology to others.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sure I'll Accept Your Apology
Sure...
I'll accept your apology,
For something you accused me...
And now find that not to be true.
After years spending your time,
Slime-ing minds againgst mine!
Ruining relationships I had of all kinds.
And with just a brief apology...
You believe you are going to be freed,
Of your guilt?
Especially when it was done to me consciously.
Sure...
I'll accept your apology.
Will you accept my continued hatred for you?
Sincerely speaking,
Of course.
And with respectful brotherhood.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You Creative Types Are So Tempermental
You want me to apologize?
OKAY...
I apologize.
'What level of sincerity,
Was that apology? '
I would say...
Right between where I would put my foot.
And the words your ears would hear,
As they rolled off my tongue.
'I accept your apology.'
I am glad of that!
Because you would find my foot painful.
And those words rolling off my tongue...
Would be created just for you.
'But then again...
That doesn't sound too bad of an offer.
Do you mind if I returned your apology?
What did I say now?
Who cares!
Walk away.
You creative types are so tempermental.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
An Apology To The Reader Who Has Written Me A Message I Have Not Answered
AN APOLOGY TO THE READER WHO HAS WRITTEN A MESSAGE TO ME I HAVE NOT ANSWERED
The real apology is not this poem
It is one by one
Reader by reader
Answering each one
Who has ever written me.
It is reading all the poems of others
I do not want to say
A ‘real no’ or a ‘false yes’ to.
It is opening myself
To perhaps a true friend
To perhaps one whose writing
I see better than my own.
The real apology
Is in opening up to the poems of the many unknown others.
Will I do this
Will I give it the time
When I already am guilty
Of not using my limited time
To correct my past work?
Dear Reader,
I apologize, I do not know.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Signals Read Repeating Meaning
an apology, often, is a hollow retraction
words refuse to be recalled, emotions
unleashed are whirlwind deadly, ruin
strips bare, previous solid, good intentions
multiple vortex tornado, time whips round, seeds again
cumulonimbus clouds, skyward climb, sunshine grown
instability, lightning through cloud heart, weather the storm
tongue zippered, betrayal body language, betrays emotions
even if the tongue is zippered, our eyes, our body language,
still betrays, innermost thoughts, apology rendered redundant
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Court is far away
235
The Court is far away—
No Umpire—have I—
My Sovereign is offended—
To gain his grace—I'd die!
I'll seek his royal feet—
I'll say—Remember—King—
Thou shalt—thyself—one day—a Child—
Implore a larger—thing—
That Empire—is of Czars—
As small—they say—as I—
Grant me—that day—the royalty—
To intercede—for Thee—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
You know that Portrait in the Moon
504
You know that Portrait in the Moon—
So tell me who 'tis like—
The very Brow—the stooping eyes—
A fog for—Say—Whose Sake?
The very Pattern of the Cheek—
It varies—in the Chin—
But—Ishmael—since we met—'tis long—
And fashions—intervene—
When Moon's at full—'Tis Thou—I say—
My lips just hold the name—
When crescent—Thou art worn—I note—
But—there—the Golden Same—
And when—Some Night—Bold—slashing Clouds
Cut Thee away from Me—
That's easier—than the other film
That glazes Holiday—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The World—stands—solemner—to me
493
The World—stands—solemner—to me—
Since I was wed—to Him—
A modesty befits the soul
That bears another's—name—
A doubt—if it be fair—indeed—
To wear that perfect—pearl—
The Man—upon the Woman—binds—
To clasp her soul—for all—
A prayer, that it more angel—prove—
A whiter Gift—within—
To that munificence, that chose—
So unadorned—a Queen—
A Gratitude—that such be true—
It had esteemed the Dream—
Too beautiful—for Shape to prove—
Or posture—to redeem!
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tis Opposites—entice
355
'Tis Opposites—entice—
Deformed Men—ponder Grace—
Bright fires—the Blanketless—
The Lost—Day's face—
The Blind—esteem it be
Enough Estate—to see—
The Captive—strangles new—
For deeming—Beggars—play—
To lack—enamor Thee—
Tho' the Divinity—
Be only
Me—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Behind Me—dips Eternity
721
Behind Me—dips Eternity—
Before Me—Immortality—
Myself—the Term between—
Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,
Dissolving into Dawn away,
Before the West begin—
'Tis Kingdoms—afterward—they say—
In perfect—pauseless Monarchy—
Whose Prince—is Son of None—
Himself—His Dateless Dynasty—
Himself—Himself diversify—
In Duplicate divine—
'Tis Miracle before Me—then—
'Tis Miracle behind—between—
A Crescent in the Sea—
With Midnight to the North of Her—
And Midnight to the South of Her—
And Maelstrom—in the Sky—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
He gave away his Life
567
He gave away his Life—
To Us—Gigantic Sum—
A trifle—in his own esteem—
But magnified—by Fame—
Until it burst the Hearts
That fancied they could hold—
When swift it slipped its limit—
And on the Heavens—unrolled—
'Tis Ours—to wince—and weep—
And wonder—and decay
By Blossoms gradual process—
He chose—Maturity—
And quickening—as we sowed—
Just obviated Bud—
And when We turned to note the Growth—
Broke—perfect—from the Pod—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sorry To Myself
For hearing all my doubts so selectively and
For continuing my numbing love endlessly.
For helping you and myself: not even considering
For beating myself up and overfunctioning.
To whom do I owe the biggest apology?
No ones been crueler than Ive been to me.
For letting you decide if I indeed was desirable
For myself love being so embarassingly conditional.
And for denying myself to somehow make us compatible
And for trying to fit a rectangle into a ball.
And
To whom do I owe the biggest apology?
No ones been crueler than Ive been to me.
Im sorry to myself.
My apologies begin here before everybody else.
Im sorry to myself.
For treating me worse than I would anybody else.
For blaming myself for your unhappiness
And for my impatience when I was perfect where I was.
Ignoring all the signs that I was not ready,
And expecting myself to be where you wanted me to be.
To whom do I owe the first apology?
No ones been crueler than Ive been to me.
And
Im sorry to myself.
My apologies begin here before everybody else.
Im sorry to myself.
For treating me worse than I would anybody else.
Well, I wonder which crime is the biggest ?
Forgetting you or forgetting myself...
Had I heeded the wisdom of the latter,
I wouldve naturally loved the former.
For ignoring you: my highest voices.
For smiling when my strife was all too obvious.
For being so disassociated from my body,
And for not letting go when it wouldve been the kindest thing.
To whom do I owe the biggest apology?
No ones been crueler than Ive been to me.
And
Im sorry to myself.
My apologies begin here before everybody else
Im sorry to myself.
For treating me worse than I would anybody else.
Im sorry to myself.
My apologies begin here before everybody else
Im sorry to myself.
For treating me worse than I would anybody else
song performed by by Alanis Morissette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
In falling Timbers buried
614
In falling Timbers buried—
There breathed a Man—
Outside—the spades—were plying—
The Lungs—within—
Could He—know—they sought Him—
Could They—know—He breathed—
Horrid Sand Partition—
Neither—could be heard—
Never slacked the Diggers—
But when Spades had done—
Oh, Reward of Anguish,
It was dying—Then—
Many Things—are fruitless—
'Tis a Baffling Earth—
But there is no Gratitude
Like the Grace—of Death—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Unit, like Death, for Whom?
408
Unit, like Death, for Whom?
True, like the Tomb,
Who tells no secret
Told to Him—
The Grave is strict—
Tickets admit
Just two—the Bearer—
And the Borne—
And seat—just One—
The Living—tell—
The Dying—but a Syllable—
The Coy Dead—None—
No Chatter—here—no tea—
So Babbler, and Bohea—stay there—
But Gravity—and Expectation—and Fear—
A tremor just, that All's not sure.
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A House upon the Height
399
A House upon the Height—
That Wagon never reached—
No Dead, were ever carried down—
No Peddler's Cart—approached—
Whose Chimney never smoked—
Whose Windows—Night and Morn—
Caught Sunrise first—and Sunset—last—
Then—held an Empty Pane—
Whose fate—Conjecture knew—
No other neighbor—did—
And what it was—we never lisped—
Because He—never told—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If I'm lost—now
256
If I'm lost—now
That I was found—
Shall still my transport be—
That once—on me—those Jasper Gates
Blazed open—suddenly—
That in my awkward—gazing—face—
The Angels—softly peered—
And touched me with their fleeces,
Almost as if they cared—
I'm banished—now—you know it—
How foreign that can be—
You'll know—Sir—when the Savior's face
Turns so—away from you—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Winters are so short
403
The Winters are so short—
I'm hardly justified
In sending all the Birds away—
And moving into Pod—
Myself—for scarcely settled—
The Phoebes have begun—
And then—it's time to strike my Tent—
And open House—again—
It's mostly, interruptions—
My Summer—is despoiled—
Because there was a Winter—once—
And al the Cattle—starved—
And so there was a Deluge—
And swept the World away—
But Ararat's a Legend—now—
And no one credits Noah—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Through the strait pass of suffering
792
Through the strait pass of suffering—
The Martyrs—even—trod.
Their feet—upon Temptations—
Their faces—upon God—
A stately—shriven—Company—
Con vulsion—playing round—
Harmless—as streaks of Meteor—
Upon a Planet's Bond—
Their faith—the everlasting troth—
Their Expectation—fair—
The Needle—to the North Degree—
Wades—so—thro' polar Air!
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It troubled me as once I was
600
It troubled me as once I was—
For I was once a Child—
Concluding how an Atom—fell—
And yet the Heavens—held—
The Heavens weighed the most—by far—
Yet Blue—and solid—stood—
Without a Bolt—that I could prove—
Would Giants—understand?
Life set me larger—problems—
Some I shall keep—to solve
Till Algebra is easier—
Or simpler proved—above—
Then—too&m dash;be comprehended—
What sorer—puzzled me—
Why Heaven did not break away—
And tumble—Blue—on me—
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One Life of so much Consequence!
270
One Life of so much Consequence!
Yet I—for it—would pay—
My Soul's entire income—
In ceaseless—salary—
One Pearl—to me—so signal—
That I would instant dive—
Although—I knew—to take it—
Would cost me—just a life!
The Sea is full—I know it!
That—does not blur my Gem!
It burns—distinct from all the row—
Intact—in Diadem!
The life is thick—I know it!
Yet—not so dense a crowd—
But Monarchs—are perceptible—
Far down the dustiest Road!
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!