acceptance – I Write Her

Dull

Published on February 25, 2026February 22, 2026 by Susi Bocks14 Comments

your subfusc presence confusing
they feel the intelligence quotient
dipping to unacceptable levels in the room
all the attendees wide-eyed and bored

PETTY THOUGHTS
was it the aging sperm
or the defective egg
perhaps your environment
wasn’t conducive for growth

the snobs at the gathering
are uncomfortable
to say the least
how dare an average person attend their soire

THE OUTSIDER’S VIEWS
wow! amazing!
oh, look at the food
all the beautiful people
i hope i make some new friends

a tale as old as time
pettiness and arrogance
still shameful
emboldened, it gets even more ugly…

**NOTE – this is just my two cents on what I’m seeing in our world right now. It’s aggravating that we aren’t more accepting. Why do we judge so harshly before getting to know people? Once they’ve shown their cards, it may be a different story. But even then, a different social status doesn’t automatically rule out a person’s decency. Remember the old adage, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Thank You To Those Who I Love

Published on February 10, 2025 by Susi Bocks19 Comments

Inspired by What do you see #275

fiercely protective
you are always there for me
wholly accept me

Many years passed before I understood what loving someone meant to me. Having been shaped by two people (and most likely – no, definitely – the third in my immediate family, too), it took the birth of my first child to understand this most basic lesson I should have been privy to during my formative years. Once understood, I was committed to being the kind of person who also deserved love.

Richness

Published on March 21, 2024 by Susi Bocks23 Comments

Inspired by Reena’s Xploration Challenge #323 &
Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Resplendent

how
can one
not absorb
the reflections
of the world’s resplendent diversity

On Acceptance

Published on October 5, 2023 by Susi Bocks25 Comments

Inspired by Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Magical Village
& Reena’s Xploration Challenge #301

it wasn’t a magical village after all
more fright than folly
of the thirteen doorways, wolves behind them all
flawed humans
same as every other place
the grass really isn’t greener over there
i guess i’ll just tend my garden here

A Bit Odd

Published on June 3, 2023May 27, 2023 by Susi Bocks13 Comments

non-box-fitting
controversial societal sore thumbs
always feeling
the railing whispers
on the lips of the normies

for a supposed free society
the “i’m minding my own business” crowd is thin
almost non-existent
loudly proclaiming what’s alleged as right

wouldn’t it be wonderful
if this worldly space
desired to hold us all in love

Not Every Day Will Be Aweful

Published on April 25, 2023April 19, 2023 by Susi Bocks14 Comments

Redux

Life sucks, sometimes.
Get used to it. Seriously.
You want a good outlook?
Accept that life sucks, sometimes.
Move along…

Originally published 9/14/2018 on I Write Her.

Reblogs – George Ellington & Candice Louisa Daquin

Published on August 3, 2022July 30, 2022 by Susi Bocks2 Comments

Acceptance and negligence are opposing behaviors; may we always have more of the former and none of the latter.

let us be by George Ellington

It is the shrillest voice that cries me
descend unto these depths,
my ancient love so high.

Only you could tempt the gravest
follies of me braving galaxies
to set foot once more on earth.

You have taught me so endearing much
about the beauty of the here and now
when my soul grieves at me.

I have so egregiously despised this me
being but this and now and dull
and longing ever to be more.

Yet somehow you feeling perceived
a me worth knowing beyond
my ever above crying soul.

I still cannot say that I understand why,
but trusting in the fullness of you,
I am ready to say yes, let us be.

Very much alive by Candice Louisa Daquin

My mother haunts me from the periphery of each day
though thankfully she is far from dead
in fact, luminescent and bright like an opal ring
inhabiting living more than I have ever mastered
her premature ghost has inched around my life
like frosting on a stale cake
a ghost I created out of need and longing
losing before you have lost
missing before you have the words
my mother who is distance and fog
perhaps why, when I squint now
I don’t see far, never far enough
she has always been just out of reach
and I, always aching, for her regard
sometimes it is not trauma or car wrecks
causing us to hemorrhage
but the standing absence of people who are
very much alive