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Best Judgement Poems

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Don't stop! The most popular and best Judgement poems are below this new poems list.

mindless Judgement by Hussein, Maryan
The Judgement by Moran, Liam
A FAIR JUDGEMENT by Ademola, Folajin
judgement day by Dover, Anthony
An Opinion, Not a Judgement by Ryerson, Tim
The Judgement by Woods, Mark
emotional judgement by JOHNSON, DON
IME JUDGEMENT DEFFERED by NYAGA, LEWIS
Not Judgement Day by Irsik, Debra
The Final Judgement by Luker, Emily

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The Best Judgement Poems

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Devils Deadly Dime

Devils deadly dime

The sign said no grown-up at the playground.
Tripping on a penny, like a mime!
My hand is in my pocket with the dime I found.
Its all mine, I asked for the devils hand that time.
Echoes in my head, bounded by a screaming sound.
Paying for a forgotten crime,
on what comes around goes around.

A prison with greed that carries an evil musical chime.
Jumping off the merry-go-round!
Encouraged by the devil,
 the pleasure of his deadly nursery rhyme. 
Now the world is measured by my blood level.

The devils delight feasted on my youth before I hit my prime.
Bashing my mind, with thoughts implanted by evil.
Entering the day with no beauty to my sublime.
Begging him to remove this anvil!

He laughed while he cursed me with a favor for a favor.
A fallout so violently in this world not civil.
One can only lust on the taste that only he can savor.
Hanging out  by the swings wounding me with prey,
on two victims to his delicious flavor.
I climb my way to teach a lesson in hate not love.
Two siblings who always scream for each other.
Giggling as I offered each a push and a shove.
Stopping they give each other a big hug.
Defeating and proving love is a stronger disease
The devil wicked eyes looking  at me like a bug.
Clawing at my inner guts with remorse that he will win this war.
Until another day one skips the penny, 
and begs a poor fool like the devil for his dime.
Tossing heads for his tail when times hits rock bottom.
I will stray away from his deadly reaction time.
He will not own my soul so freak'em,
and his greedy deadly beg of a dime.


by;pd

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Dead Men Do Tell Tales

Dead Men Do Tell Tales

 I saw, the rot of sad, deep selfish desires,
 burning endlessly in clever fires
 Piles of cash a tall mountain high
 stolen by those that cleverly steal and lie
 six lying days every week , 
 while they race into church pretending 
 to be ever so mild and meek

 The preacher crying all to give so much more
 while he lives in a mansion with a golden door
 drunks living with no other life
 have sacrificed family and wife
 naked women on the the street,
 selling their pride and body like meat
 hustlers getting rich selling poisonous dope
 as they hang themselves with an evil rope

 I looked for solace and found there was none
 just endless cowards crying on the run
 A world teaching wrong is so damn right
 blind monkeys never seeing the light
 dancing in fruitless trees,
 tree-rats eating with relish their rotting cheese

 Looking for Spring to bring life anew
 I too am blind and without a damn clue
 a fool holding onto a false hope
 on a tight leash and even shorter rope

 Where is the miracle we each think can come
 we see it shining there for some
 A treasure glaring in the glimmering Sun
 gifted not stolen by guile and a gun
 So I finally turned to family for relief
 ease my Soul, winter in my long lost belief
 that Life must give us all a saving line
 other than more food when we sit to dine

R.J. Lindley
Nov 9th, 1984

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Old Lady

"A bag of old bones"


I wonder if when you look at me
You can't bring yourself to like the vanity
Lost somewhere inside - beauty exists

Poor old lady; 
-perhaps you should not pass judgment 
One day I'll be just like you 

By: PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Blame Game

You’re so devoted to all your grudges,
You cherish them like they're a prize;
You hold them with pride on your pedestal
Bursting with bliss as your relationships die. 

Next time you frame everyone's mistakes 
And hang them right above their head, 
You should hang up a mirror as well
And take a good look at yourself instead.

You love to play the blame game
So let's play another round-
What's wrong- are you too ashamed
To turn your finger around?

You're so foolish to expect anybody 
To respect a narcissistic point of view;
Within your childish perception the lens
Is solely focused on you, you, you, and you.

Next time you frame everyone’s mistakes 
And hang them right above their head, 
You should hang up a mirror as well
And take a good, long look at yourself instead.

You love to play the blame game
So let's play another round-
What's wrong- are you too ashamed 
To turn your finger around?

Yeah, you love to play the blame game
So let's play another round-
What's wrong- are you too ashamed
To turn your finger around?

By Anne Currin

For Metamorph Contest

Copyright © Anne Currin | Year Posted 2013


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Give and Take


Give and Take


The give and take in love should reach a mean
whereby the two be equally disbursed,
so givers' hearts would never suffer lean,
cold hungry hours without love reimbursed.
And those who take would never reach the stage
of ravenous and selfish, one-way traits.
Such balance would create a better age,
if give and take maintained their equal weights.

But somehow this could never balance out—
for givers give beyond the gifts they bear;
in turn, must feed on crumbs, for without doubt
the hungry takers take beyond their share.

While takers tip the scale with all they gain,
the givers, weak and thin, smile through their pain.


Sandra M. Haight

~NA~
Contest: Losers Only
Sponsor: Jerry T Curtis
Judged: 05/02/2016
Sandra M. Haight

~NA~
Contest: The Heart That Bleeds
Sponsor: Malta Forever
Judged: 02/22/2016

Honorable Mention
Contest: Love Justice
Sponsor: Justin Bordner
Judged: 01/24/2015

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015


Details | Judgement Poem | |

POVERTY DEFINES TRUE WEALTH

written 25th Oct 2013


I don't know if human's will ever see
 every soul born, is right where it's meant to be
For the rich to become the richest
 there has to be a place for the poorest

The entire world is built up from the same level of dirt
 each soul is born without knowledge to cause hurt
Humanity teaches us what a human's life is worth, by money and glory
 I am to believe "all lives are priceless, every soul fit's to tell Earth's story

The luckiest to be born, is that of a poor man
 he learn's the treasures, of "everything he can
Those born into all riches, have no true understanding of "richness
 seeing us not as human's, but those living in poverty "as an illness

Love start's from the soul, and from there, it is taught to grow
 the rich find another kind of love, one only brought with dough
Love, trust, compassion and grace, defining the difference in richest and wealth
 t'is the beggar off the street, who climbs the toughest road to earn his wealth 

He is the most blessed man, he is rewarded with the most valuable key
 for his wealth, is humanly "uncountable, for only God know's the value of he...


Award winning this poem made it to the top 100 in 2015 enjoy and leave me a smile to know that you were here. 

Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013


Details | Judgement Poem | |

I Did It My Way

I Did It My Way
I did it my way, not for the applause but because, failure was not an option and I became a rebel with a cause. I wanted higher education and was told I couldn’t have it all, so I had to prove them wrong even if I had to creep or crawl.
I was accused of having a stubborn streak, just because I wasn’t mild and meek. Challenging every obstacle placed in my way, and all the negative things that people had to say.
In spite of all the “You can’t do that,” that I was told, I stubbornly did it my way and confidently smashed the mold. Marching to a different drummer and dancing to my own tunes, I kept my eyes on the prize ignoring all the nay-saying buffoons.
To keep on track, I learned to juggle tasks knowing I wouldn’t be derailed. To keep my ducks in a row, I learned to haggle knowing I wouldn’t fail. With dedication and hard work, as sure as night follows day, success was mine because I certainly did it my way!
6-7-2014 - Submitted to contest “I Did It My Way” sponsored by Shadow Hamilton

Copyright © Pandita Sanchez | Year Posted 2014


Details | Judgement Poem | |

read this please

They hate you because your you
They make up lies and call it true
They're fake behind your back
Hoping someday that you'll crack.

They hate you because your real.
no matter what they say you always heal
They're surprised to see you rise,
That you're not affected by all these lies


They hate you because you smile at them
It shows them that your a real gem
You are always true and do your best :)
Sometimes these haters just cant test

They hate you for no reason
Despite it all, you smile
whatever the reason
At the end of the day
All i'm gonna say
All i plan to be 
IS ME


-Sanderline Fleury :)

Copyright © Sanderline Fleury | Year Posted 2013


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Call Me Insensitive

You call me insensitive,
But I don't believe that's true;
Because, you see,
It's all about me.
It's not about you.

You say your opinion doesn’t matter,
That I’ve no respect for your point of view;
But I do if we agree,
Because it’s all about me.
It’s not about you.

You say I’ve no compassion,
No feelings for your troubles or your blues;
But none of us is issue free,
And mine are all about me;
But…not about you.

A time old adage, 
“To thine own self be true.”,
Is all about choices you see.
My choices are all about me,
And, certainly, not about you.

So, when free or forced to make your choices
You’ll understand and know it’s true 
To decide what will or will not be,
Won’t be at all about me;
It will be all about you

But special moments confront each of us,
When what matters isn’t “Me”.
And while these moments are few,
They’re not about me, not about you.
For a time, it’s all about “We.”

Yes, “…no man is an island.”
Is a valid point of view;
But if it’s not about “We”, 
Then it’s all about me.
Sorry.  It’s not about you.

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014


Details | Judgement Poem | |

This is not a Winter Wonderland

Icy cold rain floods the brutal cold air forcing many to seek shelter in their homes Inclement weather indicates the arrival of Winter as people seek comfort in warm temperatures Children watch in glee as snow falls elegantly running outside to build snowmen and for snowball fights Snow is like life, so beautiful - until people trample over it comparable to the life of the homeless who have no where to go Cruel judgement leads to them being shunned and alienated but did you ever look into their eyes? They are human! Complaints that they are drunk - but the alcohol keeps them warm Do you think they choose to be destitute? Why judge what you do not understand They are displaced by life's hardships - searching for refuge While you sleep in your warm comfortable beds spare a thought for those freezing tonight Defeated, depressed, hungry and freezing cold they will sleep rough again - hoping not to wake up tomorrow Winter contest by Broken Wings The Silent One 14 November 2015

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Tongue Study

Tongue Study 4/22/2014


Tongue Study

Steady it wags
needing to know
more,about the
the very thing that
causes wars.
peace and pain
I study my tongue.
Much has been said
about the tongue yet
how has it pertained
to my own.
My tongue has delivered
and served,it has given
and taken,it has blessed,
it has cursed.
It has been written
and it has been SAID.
the tongue can be tied,twisted
curt,sweet,sharp,wagging or
bragging.

It may be your
native tongue
or foreign,it may be
exciting or boring.
If quiet is your tongue
the cat may have it.

If you use your
tongue to speak ill
of the dead you may,
challenge a force and
be cursing your life's course.

The tongue's confession's
may sweep out
dirty secrets from the
corners of your mind.

Wise words have fallen on death
ears, words smothered by pride.
truth escaped lying eyes.
Ignoring what you saw and
twisting what was heard.

Tongues may bond
with imbeciles or angels
forming positive
or negative energy.

Be careful,mind your tongue
it is closes to your own ears
and will affect you first,rather
before the others hear.

Be not at the mercy of 
an imbecilic tongue
read their eyes
and duck the darts
about to be thrown. 

Do not despise the
foreign tongue
for it is the aptitude 
of the brain, the tunnel
to his bilingual do not
expect the champions,
to cater to the dunce,
who can barley
master his own tongue.

In general I have concluded
weather you live by the sword or
stand on principals, I had to
learn to manage my tongue
as I would a loaded gun.

I will not justify my tongue
when I use it's power for wrong
and neither hold my piece,
to placate the sword of the unjust..
the real power is in
the righteousness
of the spoken tongue..

For those who live by
the sharp and sworded tongue
and wield words as death
blows to the innocent,
or those who are silent,
while others suffer
May also die
by the mighty tongue.
or by the holding of it.

Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2014


Details | Judgement Poem | |

KISS MY CLOUD by Cindi Rockwell

Kiss My Cloud

So you say you want to sit on MY cloud.
The view, you say, is rainbows and bluebirds.
I understand you hate your polyester,
Dishwasher safe, blue light special cloud.
It is weak, sagging under the weight of your expectations.
It is no longer fluffy, no longer billowy, no longer white.
It is empty and dingy and flat. Like your soul.

You can't see the best part of my cloud because it is on the inside,
Where it is built from the sweat of a hundred strong women like me.
Where the walls glisten from the tears shed as others like yourself tried to steal our cloud's glory.
But like this cloud, though we look soft and billowy, we are steel, cursing forth our thunder and glaring bolts of lightning to protect ourselves and our own.

My cloud is high now, but it has had its lows.
Where were you when others avoided and mocked us as nothing more than valley fog?
When the view consisted of puddles of want and winds of despair?
Did you once offer me a seat on your cloud?
Did you give me a hand up? Or were you too busy looking down on me?

So excuse me if I block your sun, ruin your picnic, cancel your flight.
But I will never ignore you.
Come closer and I will whisper a message in your ear:
HEY, YOU, GET OFF OF MY CLOUD!!!!

Copyright © Cindi Rockwell | Year Posted 2015


Details | Judgement Poem | |

writing to inspire

I want to write something that makes people say “I wish I wrote that”
I want to write something that gives the hopeless their hope back
I want to write stuff that Tupac would be happy to have on his notepad
I write for everyone who had a broke past

I write to cure heart-break
I hope my words offer light to those going through dark days
Good times are ahead even though they appear far away
Sometimes you have to get things the hard way

I’m writing for that girl who just got cheated on
Hope my words are a bandage to people who don’t know where they’re bleeding from
I’m writing for people who think their chances of succeeding’s gone
I write for those whose parents chose to lead them wrong

I write for those fighting discrimination
I only get offended when people give me limitations
Notorious B.I.G told me the sky is the limit
So I write till I’m out of ink or my pen is breaking

I write for those battling depression
I write for those struggling to see their reflection
I write for those who want to stand up tall
I write to inspire but I can’t please you all

My rhymes are far from perfect
But I’m honest in all of my verses
I’m trying to give worth to those who feel worthless
Because I was made to feel like I had no purpose

I’m not trying to save people
Just trying to offer a little help
I believe everyone should be made equal
Regardless of age, race, sex, looks or wealth

I hope my words will one day lead the blind
I hope my words encourage people to go against the system
That doesn’t mean to commit crimes
Just don’t be afraid to be different

I may not make a change in the world
But maybe I can help to take away the pain from a girl
Or offer a little guidance to a fatherless boy
I hope my words inspire, but I started writing to fill a void 

Copyright © Alex Duffy | Year Posted 2014


Details | Judgement Poem | |

A Mile in Her Shoes

A mile in her shoes
You look at her and wonder
and simply do not at all understand
You would think she would leave him
Before things really get out of hand.

She thinks we don’t notice
The days she shows up newly bruised
Some of us look down on her at times
Because she allows herself to be abused.

I cannot look down upon her
Because I have walked in her shoes
You cannot know the pain she has
Or her shame she has for being used 
 
She has children she must think of
And bills that need to be paid
Food for the table to be purchased
There are so many reasons she’s stayed

Her dreams and life have shattered
And hope died so long ago
Love has a different meaning to her
Something most of us will never know
 
So do not harshly judge her
She is aware of your opinions and views
And you should never ever judge her
Unless you have walked a mile in her shoes

Copyright © Connie Moore | Year Posted 2014


Details | Judgement Poem | |

AS PURE AS POSSIBLE








Help me, oh Lord,

The soul you have entrusted me with, 

As pure as possible to Thee, 

With 

My last breath, to surrender! 





© Demetrios Trifiatis
   10 March 2015

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2015


Details | Judgement Poem | |

The God Machine

I really have outdone myself this time!
My ‘God Machine’ is finally in place!
I’ll never have to fret about a rhyme,
Or stop for a red light that changed from green 
As if it sought to put me in my place
A random hiccup clearly quite obscene.

I really am quite clever I must say
My ‘subtle knife’ (1) allowing me to splice
My ‘God Machine’ into time’s tawdry day
The true God left completely unaware
That He is now controlled by my device
And just another victim of malware.

It seems there’s quite a lot that ‘God’ screwed up
That I intend to change now I’m in charge
I think that its bad form to cover-up!
So what’s the deal with dying anyway?
Let no one die will be my countercharge
And life is just a breeze on my freeway!
 
All pain mere nuisance, manna heaven sent
And sin gives you enormous facial zits
While love and kindness clear up all your rent.
Though talents differ, jealousies dissolve
As differences bring none real benefits
And non-destructive social moves evolve.

All birth defects, parental wealth passé
Genetic weakness gone with dodo bird
No accident of birth gives worth per se
Sins of the parent cannot taint the child
That God might favor one is just absurd
The color of one’s skin no more reviled.

But now I find my plans have gone awry
My God Machine decided I’m a flaw
It seems that I’m outdated samurai
Humanity endangering MY plan
Just plankton in the future’s yawning maw
Machine judged only advocate for man! (2)

Brian Johnston
November 5, 2014

Poet's Notes:
(1) subtle knife - A reference to a magical knife that can open windows in time in one of the 3 books in the Phillip Pullman trilogy 'His Dark Materials' including The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass.

(2) My poetic version of the lesson of the book and movie 2001 (written by Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C. Clarke) where HAL, a computer so smart that it becomes sentient, decides that that only way to really protect a manned mission of a spaceship to the planet Jupiter is to kill all the humans on board the spaceship. The crew's humanity HAL decides is just too big a risk to the mission that HAL is charged (by its human programmers) to protect.

Copyright © Brian Johnston | Year Posted 2014


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Evil That Always Takes Its Toll

Evil That Always Takes Its Toll

Remember where hot lightning bolts flash down,
Its sun-fire heat burning in a tragic strike!
There perished mother and her little tyke;
Tragedy there, where the angels cry and frown,
And sing their saddest songs upon the waves:
Doom and gloom a sad fruit to be born
Taken long before Gabriel blows his horn.
Judged by Fate no power in Universe ever saves,
Yet no man lives that can ever be so sure,
That misery will forget to take its toll
Upon the peace that stirs the blessed soul!
There was peace: yet no peace can insure,
Paradise will be waiting for its fair guests,
The great promise, its most fantastic lure!
Security of life and limb of angels so pure:
Or protection from Evil that so eternally infests.

Robert J. Lindley, August , 1973

Note: A poem from my private journal, from back when I wrote a bit more in the old style.
Sometimes I dearly miss writing like this..... and that muse that raced so far away!

p.s. My first wife(future ex) thought this my best poem ever. 
At that time I had several hundred written.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Upon The Gallows Stands The Condemned

Upon The Gallows Stands The Condemned


Upon the gallows stands the condemned,
the crowd slobbering for his demise.
Preacher and followers begin bible hymn
about fools not so very swift or wise.

There dancing spirits surrounding him,
this dejected and now shaking thief.
His dark, haunting past now so very dim
lost of all hope and steeped in grief.

Beelzebub stands there with wicked grin,
to welcome home the coming of the fruits.
His harvest dark and heaped over in sin,
crowd crying to see his swinging boots!

Soon darkness will bring on its release,
as stiff rope snaps into a sudden drop.
Death shall make this lost soul cease,
when his life and time will forever stop!

Gallows have done their cheering deed,
crowd lurches forth in a collective swoon.
Beelzebub, gathers the fruit of his seed
and gathers the crowd's dark joy as a boon!

Robert J. Lindley, 04-24-2015

Note:  Man's judgment may be a necessary evil but the actions engaged in by 
those that obeyed the carnal desires, lusts and temptations of evil are a sweet harvest for HE that gathers his fruit with a wicked grin...

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015


Details | Judgement Poem | |

The Unknown

The Unknown

While standing on a razor end edge of my mortal time,
I’m not sure of what lies beyond and what I shall find.

Death’s dead, cold eyes stare me down now, as I wait;
My spirit sweats and shakes, as my blood turns frigid.

His skeleton face is scary, horrid, pallid, and macabre.
His apparition floats freely full of fear this frozen night.

A little girl long dead steps toward me from this oblivion,
Her face sad, streaming tears as she hands me a wilted rose.

This strange netherworld has that dull, cold pallor of death, 
Just like the smell, sensation, and sadness of a charnel house.

The moon on this eve is one blood red, insidious in intent;
Fixed high in the cold night sky it gives one no hope at all.

The little girl long dead returns and holds my left hand gently: 
She says, “It’s not yet your time . . . this is still only a dream.”
She adds, “The River Styx lies ahead—cold, dark, and deep.”
She says, “There is yet time to change your life for the better.”

As I started to awaken from this intense and revealing dream,
I could hear a faint voice whispering deep inside my psyche.
It told me now a certain message that I shall never ever forget.

Follow your heart and conscience, find the goodness in your life.
Listen to God and what the better angels of your nature tell you.

This shall keep you on that path of the devout in the eyes of God.
The image of God is reflected in Man himself as he seeks to fulfill
Always His Divine Destiny!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
January 1, 2016 (Lyric)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2016


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Justice

They say Justice is a woman
That men should fear her wrath
Nothing will make them tremble
More than hearing her laugh

She is going to make them know
That she should be feared
They will ask for mercy
And then hide in their beard

But Justice will be kind
She will not take their head
But will make them suffer mentally
And wish that they were dead

Pain will not be physical
She will lead a merry dance
But in the end of everything
She always gives a final chance

Copyright © Mama Bear | Year Posted 2014


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Ask Not Why You Reap Such Ills

Ask Not Why You Reap Such Ills


Like a tight jar your fate rests sealed
Life strains under its heavy goals.
After death, truth's light is revealed
Lying lips are kissed by burning coals.

Loud roars cry out life is so unfair
Beg pay for merely knowing your name.
You play, wandering around with no care
Ignoring follies and your great shame.

You walk along a dark, forbidden path
With cold fingers jammed in your ears.
Cry about hard times and imagined wrath
Run from shadows and your greatest fears.

Blue dark day may wait for your descent.
You reap ill because you did not repent!

Robert J. Lindley
1986

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Eyes on Words

Eyes can feel the unseen 
Before it is verbalized and organised in pain
They seize innocent criminals that abuse letters 
Eyes of creativity don’t feel no pity
They endlessly seek traumatized emotions in numerous seasons

These eyes live in the back of every tongue rotation
These eyes pee tears like polluted rain drops 
Urinating deceases polluting the already sick tears 
They lecture life with pride
Eyelashes that endlessly spray hope in words with no doubt 

Eyes on words prefer no sun glasses but stanzas
They speak darkness in all artistic graphics
They visualize visions in brain map fantasies 
A place with more sins and judgments they visit
They speak non-rated missions

When the world is rude to you don’t be picky on dreams 
Dreams are never on vacation
These eyes can sense 
These eyes are like pens 

They are fans of disappointments while contribution stepladders 
It’s like a clan 
They reproduce stomach cramps using fertile words
The family of giving and receiving

Eyes on words speak in mute expressions
They build towers of tomorrow’s errors
Buildings that look down on problems
Eyes on words are like cold visions with no ice

© Raymond Ngomane 
 

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2014


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Fear Of Numbers

          Fear of Numbers

Fear of numbers is real
They carry adding machines on their backs
And loaded numbered guns
Divide and subtract from families and everyone
With two times the pleasure two times the fun
Double their trouble on the run
You cannot escape the digits on your hands and toes
They are counting on you to pull them through
Children fear math and numbers like the plague
Run from them at multiple fractions of a second
Poof!...Like zero, (Is that a real name and number?), they are gone
Figures hide behind accountants glasses
Hitting you with tons of taxes
Not to be divisive or derisive
Or taken down in dividends
I think they’re out to get you
In the end they have no =
Something’s don’t add up
You can count on that

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Tell Me

I have heard, others talk about your god
He doesn't sound like a god I wish to know
Sitting in heaven high on his throne
While I'm left to suffer here all alone
Guilty of sins for which I must atone
I've called those television evangelists on the phone
Put my hands on the screen, as they gave god praise
Was that him working in mysterious ways?
They say he created everything in just six days
No wonder he needed a day of rest
He must be more exhausted with all the sins being confessed?
I myself could keep him busy for over a year 
You can't imagine what's on my chest
It goes even deeper compacted and pressed
So why? I ask why
Why do I need a god of fairy tales
Hung on a cross with nails
Him who is righteous 
and me who always fails
Tell me?
Yes tell me
I really want to know


I too would not want to know that god
Distant sitting on a throne
While we suffer all alone
Burdened by sins for which we can't atone
Confessing to some fraud on a telephone
I will let others sing their false praises
With their religiosity and New Age Crazes
Repeating pseudo wise lines and rehearsed phrases 
Placing unsuspecting seekers in guilded cages

I sit here and wonder
What is there for me to tell?
I have no magic spell
God isn't a product to sell
Let others try to argue and yell
I cannot convince you what to feel
You believing in God doesn't make Him real
He has always exisisted
Deeper than any feeling
Not just a fairytale
Abstract and appealing
He says "Come to me all you who are weary"
A God of compassion 
Not a "Big Bang Theory"
Because I know Jesus
I'm thankful and teary 
He has answers to question's that can't be answered by "Siri"

It's hard understanding  
a God you don't know 
When you feel tossed by life's waves to and frough 
Reach out your hand, my God won't let go
Look in my eyes
See God's reflection
With his heart I witness your perfection
You are not some evolutionary collection
Formed from cosmic dust or random selection
You are Loved that's why Jesus died for you
His love intimate
Freely given and true
Unearnable by things you think you have to do
He patiently knocks at your door and waits for you
if you open the door you will believe in Him too
I speak from my heart and these words are true

We each have our own truth is what I believe
Yours is original sin, Adam and Eve
Yet your God is intimate as well
One who Loved us even though we fell
I'll keep my mind open and wait for a sign
If he's real, perhaps one day He'll be mine
Give me your book
I'll read and test it line by line
Perhaps the water in my veins
Will turn into living wine
When with the King I dine!










This is a creative exercise between myself and my friend Eileen.
I've chosen to take on the persona of a non believer who is questioning.
I look forward to her response, it should make for an interesting conversation.

I put Eileen on the spot with this one by posting it before she viewed it.
Her creative process is different than mine and I should have respected that.
Eileen sent me some soup mails with some creative ideas which I have
weaved into my story. Thanks for the inspiration Eileen, we will take on
another collaboration soon.



Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015


Details | Judgement Poem | |

Sentenced

They place my vowel
Under barren landscape

Sipping from cracked porcelain cup
Of an alienated heartbeat

Devilish grins
Slapping Karma’s bottom,
A quarterback’s misguided win

Liar’s prophetic retinas glaze
With metric, disciplinary ruler

They place my consolidated lyric
On upper hand
Of cubic zirconium petulance

Their torn, lanolin coated tissue
Degrading polyester embedded uniform

Mislead by “savior’s” belief
A desolate embodiment of character

They observe me
With cherry coated pupils
Through rusty, iron bars

Its frosty echoes
Portraying fickle sonatas in these stale winds

Yet,
My ambient tear
Is simply a hoax for their recycled victory

Holding wooden spoon against my waist

Ready to crawl

©Drake J. Eszes

Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013