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Best Judgement Poems

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Not Judgement Day by Irsik, Debra
The Final Judgement by Luker, Emily
Judgement Day by Davies, Ivor
mutual appreciation in passing without judgement by King, Marty
Judgement Day by Ward, Julia
Judgement Throng by Turner, Deborah
JUDGEMENT DAY by Providence, Poetryof
Judgement Tree by Scribner, Michael
Your Key Judgement by Kramer , Kearra
House of Judgement by Day, Sean

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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

More great poems below...


Details | Judgement Poem | |

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 2015 
   All Rights Reserved


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


Details | Judgement Poem | |

IT IS WHAT IT IS

Sweetheart, you never really fell for me
Head over heels, you loved a fantasy
You had a perfect dream of who I'd be
I liked that guy too.. but it wasn't me
 
It is what it is, It is what it is
It is what it is, It is what it is

You never really.. gave us a chance
More in love with the thought of romance
You turned a blind eye to reality
Girl, I can flat dance but you couldn't see

It is what it is, It is what it is
It is what it is, It is what it is

You walked out the door, I let you go
God knows it hurts to reap what you sow
It's better this way, I only wish you well
But I gotta be me.. even when me means hell 

It is what it is, It is what it is
It is what it is, It is what it is

I've heard it said there's lots of fish in the sea
I gotta believe there's one fish made for me
So I'm sailing today, I'm not waiting around
I can not rest until my true love is found..

Cause,
It is what it is
    just the way it is
It is what it is
    just the way it is

It is what it is
It is what it is

Date: 8-7-14

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

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Freedom

This place inside where all my feelings keep.
That lies somewhere between my heart and soul.
Should I, the guardian of my fortress seek,
Protection from those, who would see them stole.
So many times have you this bastion breeched,
With scant regard for all the dangers posed.
That my hopes and dreams should not be reached,
By eyes that only wish my heart exposed.
These inmates with their liberty restrained.
That strive against their shackles and their chains.
Am I their jailor too cautious to be blamed,
To free them no matter what their claims.
And if freeing them should reveal my heart,
I might be also freed.. my life to start

More great poems below...


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

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Rules and Regulations

How long did it take her to be free?

How long did it take
For the wingless dragonfly to finally open her heart to the world

How long did it take for her to overcome Devil’s workshop
Slowly caressing her retinas
With silky daffodils and two-faced tulips

Where
Now
She dives into a glistening pool of complicated risk
Opening her atrium to the masses

Shedding incumbent teardrops
Just for that one standing ovation
To SET
HER
FREE!

It was then
Where pieces of plastic chains fell from demure stratosphere

Dented taps, similar to a shoeless dancer,
Setting off bass tones and low-key monotony

For she was
One cholesterol filled syllable short
To be genuine

One tearful, hyphenated lyric
Too blunt
To be embraced by their “god”

One dilapidated vowel shy
Of being honest

Her diary didn’t have enough pages torn
From emerald sanity

There were too many “Wows”,
Diluting into disingenuous shoulder pats

Her stanza pushed aside

A glorified booty call with no call back number
Leaving messages towards empty dial tones

…

How long will it take her to be free?

Until she looks up
Knowing she already holds the key

©Drake J. Eszes

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.

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 

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

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...




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 
 

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.




Details | Judgement Poem | |

Man's Quest For A Greater Future

Man's Quest For A Greater Future

Sunken man, a mystery in the making
 earth gives and gives to we so selfishly taking
Blue sky, giving color to a tired, hectic life
 time to sit to rest , to break from daily strife

Shattered homes, they decay as we flee
 racing into a future we imagine , so rarely ever see
Earth eats up , the mess we so often make
 shouldn't man rest, rest from all the greed and take

Parched and dry ground, foundation we need
 as we cut and stab we see not all the terrible bleed
Mother earth a bounty, yes, tis Heaven sent
 we must stop, enjoy before all earthly beauty is spent

A rest, a hope, before onward we often so foolishly race
We that take too much and rarely ever bother to replace!

Robert Lindley, 12-07-2014

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Darker than the Cavern, No Relief

Darker than the Cavern, No Relief

Darker
than the Cavern
opening gate into Hell,
the lost Souls, dead nights
with such unimaginable delights.

They seek mercy
where none can be had
an ending never found,
lost forever deep underground.

No Altar
to burn incense
a dark pit into agony lie,
caverns , dark and deep to cry.

Moans
that wail in 
pleas unfulfilled,
repentance was never willed.

Dark city
Hades in action
forever gifting torment,
upon those lost in banishment.

No sleep
just louder cries
hideous sorrowful wails
where forgiveness forever fails.

Robert J. Lindley, 09-27-2014

Note: I woke this morning from a dream of the
 underworld. David's passing was on my mind last
night and this dream shouted out a warning to me.
Too late, too late is a terrible place to be...

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Many speak of paradise

Many speak of paradise

Many speak of paradise
They’ve been taught it all their lives
But maybe when it’s time to go
When that grand time arrives
They’ll find it’s not so easy 
To find that place they seek
It depends on how they’ve lived their lives
Whether they’ve been strong, or weak.

It’s no good just believing
One has to seek the truth
To take a look so deep within
Could furnish all the proof
And when one finds that truth my friends
Heaven is here, and now
No one wants to live in Hell
But most do anyhow.

If one searches deep within
They’ll be no strife for they
For they will change without a doubt
So sweet will be each day
Judgement, gossip, and the rest
They just won’t be, no more
They’ll find that there’s a Heaven
It is there within ones core

1 November 2014

Details | Judgement Poem | |

I really have to say

I really have to say

Having entered several contest
And, being pelted with N/A's
What's the purpose of the game
If you're not allowed to play
I appreciate the prod
To help me write about some theme
But the results, which should uplift
Are more cruel than it would seem
I can't condemn the contest,
or the Judges of the same
Perhaps lack of compassion 
Truly is the blame   
Having sponsored contests
And judging poets who,
While writing with their hearts
Share their best with me and you
Perhaps we could explain
What makes us choose
Why we pick a winner
And those we leave to lose
Then perhaps these little contest's
Would be meaningful and fun
Giving useful criticism 
And helping everyone


I wrote this because, having been on both sides,
Contestant and Judge, I realize the difficulty of both.
I'm not sure why some member write poems off topic,
I know I twist the topic and stretch the rules, but I expect
an N/A, I'm just having fun---It never upsets me---and It doesn't
bother me, that it seems like the same small group of people
receive most of the honors and appear at the top of every list.
I don't know maybe they're just that good, or perhaps just well liked
But that's not why I'm here. I'm here to write,
and the comments I receive are my only true reward.
In closing
Here is my dilemma, with my recent contest, I happen to like all 37 entries, If I grade them, First, Second ,Third, and leave out the rest, that would be an injustice. If I ranked everyone from 1 thru 37, Anyone under third place would probably still feel like a loser and If I rate everyone as First place, no one will feel like a winner, Oh well it would seem, I can't win at this either and it's the Judge in this case, which is truly N/A 

Details | Judgement Poem | |

The Executive

The Executive Story/ poem There was once a high class executive Lady. She had a very high paying job and made a lot of money. She was very rich and hung out with the rich and famous. It happened one day while crossing the street to her job, she got run over by a bus and died. When she gets to heaven, St. Peter meets her at the door and asked who she was. She said I'm Jane the executive. St. Peter nod his head and said - very few people of your kind make it here. He then said you have to choose where you want to spend the rest of eternity, if it's Heaven or Hell. She said - I'll take Heaven she said, St. Peter said - It's not that easy. You have to spend 24 hrs. in Hell and than 24 in Heaven, than you decide. He took her down to Hell and the door open He just told the main man there - she is here for her 24 hrs. I will be back tomorrow for her. The very well dressed man told her, do come in. Jane saw that it was beautiful in there. It was like a beautiful city. There were lots of stores, restaurants and night clubs. She was impressed. She went to a club and there she saw some of her friends that had passed away before her. They were happy to see her. They had a great party that night. Before she knew, her time was up. St. Peter came for her. Now was her time in Heaven. There She saw a lot of Angels singing and everything was peaceful. The 24 hrs. were up and St. Peter ask her if she had make up her mind and what had she chosen. She said I never thought I would say this, but I choose Hell. He said - are you sure? She said yes. This time St. Peter send her down by herself. When she knock on the door, Satan himself opened up took her hand and dragged her in. What she saw surprised her. All her friends were dressed in shabby dirty clothes and it was like the whole city had disappeared and there was fire everywhere. The people were picking something to eat from the garbage. She said - what happened here? Why are my friends dressed like that Last night everything was so beautiful - we had the best of everything. Satan - said, last night we were recruiting you. Today you are here for Eternity...
0810/2014 By Lucilla M. Carrillo Note: I'm sorry that this is kind of long, but I hope you enjoy it. Moral of the story is what you see is not always what you get... heaven.

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

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!!!!

Details | Judgement Poem | |

The Gate

The Gate

As night begins to fall, she sits quietly at the gate.
Her ambitions are high, but it is up to fate.
For he's not the only one, that death will endure.
She waits like a stone, she wants to be sure.
She cries out to God, believing not, that He is there.
She debates once again, that this life is, or not fair.
The wind seeps through her, as if she were a window.
The gun at her head, awaiting the hard blow.
Her love went away, without making a sound.
He's buried beyond the gate, six feet underground.
She longs for his arms to wrap around her tight.
It won't be long now, she will be with him tonight.
As she counts to three her hand starts to quiver.
She pulls the trigger slightly, as she feels a slight shiver.
She is now ready, to commit this horrible sin.
Someone will find her in the morning, and open the gate to put her in.
She will be wearing a white dress, like she did on their wedding day.
There will be no more sadness, like when the cancer took him away.
There was a loud explosion, her body, now limp on the ground.
Her spirit rose out of her, escaping to where it was bound.
She opened her eyes, and then began to scream.
There was nothing but darkness, it had to be a dream.
She searched around blindly, then she heard a loud voice.
It asked, "Why did you do this?" She replied, that she had no choice.
She heard her name being called, and went to find the source.
She was startled when she found him, he sat laughing without remorse.
He then welcomed her in, as she entered this empty space.
She heard voices screaming in agony, a puzzled look upon her face.
She knew something was wrong, and began to run away.
But there was nowhere to go, this is where she would stay.
She then prayed to God, with everything that she had.
He replied, "I am sorry,” He sounded disappointed and mad.
He explained to her, His decision, why this was the only choice He had.
He disappeared quietly into the distance, leaving her to remember what she had.
She looked up to find her husband, waiting patiently by an unopened door.
She begins to run in his direction, wanting to be with him so much more.
He blows her a kiss slowly, across the air it fell.
Leaving her feeling shameful, feeling that she deserved this Hell.
Thinking that she should have waited, but knowing now that it was too late.
Oh how she wishes to go back, where she sat waiting patiently by the gate.

11-07-10

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.

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Ripping

I rip and chew at my edges
Trying to eradicate 
Placate
Eleviate
My pain
The anxiety 
The part of me that threatens to freeze 
My mental disease
The part I hope no one sees
The inner demons I wish to appease 

The tattoos that your artistry 
Injected
Under my skin
With invisible ink
Yet I feel it there with the words I think
As I claw and bite into my pink

I wish to be smoothed out
Cared about
As the blood appears it calms my shout
Exquisite pleasure wrapped in the pain
With it, some level of relief I attain

I tell myself 
I can't
I won't 
do it again
Yet with chewing
I feel my inner turmoil wane
The weaker bits
The inner head stitches
It helps me scratch, those indiscernible itches
Stopping the soul twitches

In shame I hide my hands
Fingers and things 
The evidence my body sings
Strategicly placed
My problems kind of erased
In fabric bandages encased
Still desperation has a taste
Inner turmoil only temporarily chased

Was I designed for this
Some kind of inner sickness
Expressed in a serpent's kiss
As I'm hypnotized by it's hiss
I wonder
Is there a way 
to fix this
I wish to be 
a fully healed 
Calmer witness
Perhaps this is my litmus
Another test I fail
For I'm a blind  man
Who can't read braille  

I'm bound by ropes
That help me cope
Evidence I can't wash away with soap
I wanted your yes 
But always got your nope
Became an inner pauper
Surrounded by hope
Still deep down I feel like a dope

I know I have much to be thankful for
Greatly blessed I can't ask for more
Still I fear what might be waiting for me
An imaginary enemy
Hidden behind the next door
Threatening my hope for a peaceful shore
Still I know this inner tension is a gift
It's a wave on which, I've been given a lift
It helps me travel far and swift
As within life's currents I hear the music shift.
There is a tune I wish to sing
Above the maddening ring
A new place from which I wish to begin
Beyond tattoos
And cracked and bleeding skin.
Peaceful rivers
Flowing from within.


Please read Njeri Unjeri's poem Tattoo's, after reading her
poem I got to thinking of the tattoos that all of us wear.

Details | Judgement Poem | |

Who You Are

You may be older, but that doesn't make you smarter.
You may be taller, but that doesn't make you stronger.
You may be prettier, but that doesn't make you kinder.
You may be popular, but that doesn't make you loyal.

What you look like on the outside, 
Doesn't reflect who you are.
What you have on the inside matters,
Keep your traits over looks.

You can be smarter, yet younger,
Shorter, yet stronger,
Ugly, yet kinder,
And a no one, yet more loyal.

Those the traits are the things that matter,
Looks aren't everything.
If you can’t judge a book by its cover,
Why judge people by their looks.


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