Best Judges Poems
Not for the contest
No more do I despair
writing for contests with an off the wall theme
Those that want me to create a nightmare
from what was once a beautiful dream.
No more do I care
about Marvel characters who fight and kill
I'd rather spend my time writing silly limericks
for fun and honing a particular poetry skill
than worrying about meter and syllable tricks.
No more do I write
for contests where a sponsor forbids me to choose
how many spaces I indent each middle line
by someone who thinks they're a bard. No, I refuse
to write for a yobo whose rules constrict and confine.
No more contests
do I enter for judges who hold grudges and spite
or who offer friendship placements with a wink.
It's not fair to good poets who get N/A'd as a backbite
I've no more interest in participation with pen and ink
No longer care
to write for judges who give novel length instruction
Yes, rules should be followed, but not to such extreme.
It negates poetic license, serving as a poetic obstruction
making that contest sponsor, head of his or her regime.
No more writing
for those who prohibit adjectives and adverbs be used
or if the sponsor has never written in the specified form.
The power that some feel as a judge can be abused
while preaching about dos and don'ts from a platform.
Oh, spare me
from those who don't know the use of literary devices,
metaphors, proper grammar, and over doing alliteration.
To anyone who wants to enter contests, my advice is...
"Don't take a crown seriously. It will lead to abdication."
No more issues
to deal with sponsors who change their minds midway
through contests because no entries for the theme... bizarre,
and decide, without warning they have the right to say,
"I can do what I want." Who made them the contest czar?"
No blight is this
on judges who sincerely host, giving up their leisure time
to make PS a place where everyone can take an active part.
Those who appreciate good fun in free verse or with rhyme.
I applaud the fair-minded sponsors who have a good heart.
A few weeks ago, I decided to not enter PS contests any longer.
Overly Particular Judges:
What to submit
Only Sonnet form accepted.
Must be a sonnet ( 14 lines - 10 syllables per line. Rhyme scheme : ABAB CDCD EFEF GG)
Must include all 3 lines as below:
Ginger Beer is a tonic
Flotsam and jetsam are marked on the ship
The imp skipped merrily.
These three phrases MUST be included in your sonnet.
Please bold them to be easily seen when judging.
I am looking for intellectual thought waves throughout the poem, particularly on your consideration of what causes tides to come in and go out.
Fresh ideas will be rewarded. Tired descriptions that have been over used will not be rewarded. Think of new ways to describe things.
The title of your poem is your choice. Add SV to the end of the title.
Have fun. 35 poems will be accepted and my time limit will be one week from today. Once your poem is entered it cannot be seen by other poets until judging has been completed.
First Prize, trophy Second to tenth, Glory
Preparing Your Entry
Submit one copy of your poem online. Format your poem. Please make your entry easy to read — no illustrations or fancy fonts.
English Language
Poems should be in English. Poems translated from other languages are not eligible unless you wrote both the original poem and the translation.
A Note to Poetry Contestants
You are welcome to enter this contest, whether or not you won a prize in one of my previous contests.
I write because I love to write,
writing for a contest makes me think.
My imagination and creativity come alive,
as the words dance across the page.
Today I asked my words,
what do they think about contests.
They said,
we bring out your humor on a happy day.
We can also bring out,
your sadness and despair.
I then asked my words why some contests do not place,
not even an honorable mention.
The paper began to get wet,
as my words started to cry.
My words then asked,
aren't the judges also your readers?
I took a minute to think about this and said,
yes they are.
Maybe my readers are reading with a different pair of glasses,
the judges is not reading but judging.
My words then asked,
why are rhymes not always a rhyme?
A rhyme is a rhyme all of the time,
if not then it could be free verse I replied.
My words then said,
be happy when you win we are.
Oh yes I am happy win or lose,
because my readers said they love it.
Hello, my most esteemed poets,
I am trying an experiment that I believe has not been done here on the PS site. I have posted a new poetry contest called "The Prismatic Self: A Gauntlet of Mirrors within the Arena.".
The JUDGES have now been selected:
1. Lin Lane
2. Ink Empress
3. Duke Beaufort
4. Vanya Evangeline
5. Anne Winter
6. Hiya Sharma
7. Andrea Dietrich
8. Daniel Rodgers
Since only one person can view the contest, all contestants' submissions will be distributed between the group for input and ratings. When the contest is complete and we have the final list of winners, we will have personal insights from all the judges for each winner and all honorable mentions.
Thank you for your time and patience
Blessings,
Daniel
Life itself sometimes begins at the "End"? Life always has a beginning,and I am not certain about how "Life itself" will "End".Will you hold on to your "Life" that you have now to invigorate,and inspire the desire that the love gives so that you can live again,regardless of the condition that we sometimes find ourselves in. You may be in a"Wheel Chair",and think that no one cares,but please put yourself at ease,and be completely aware that you still have "Life there in that "Wheel Chair"! Caregivers give care even if we may be in a wheel chair! Our caregivers really do "Care",for those who are "Bed Ridden",or those who are in a "Wheel Chair"! They know where you are,and they realize why they are "THERE"! They realize that they truly love and give "Loving""Care"!!! We all can look around,and see "LIFE" everywhere! We can look inside of ourselves,and find life "THERE",and in the "Caregivers" that give us "Care"!"Care giving can start inside where "GOD" resides and can defeat the enemy that tries to take our "Lives"! Caregivers are "Blessed" to be everywhere,and "Caregivers" support "Dare to Care"! We dare you to care,and we swear,as "Caregivers that we will"Forbear"the "Hard Work" of giving,kindness,compassion,patience,and tender love to some who do not care:but as a "Caregiver" we "Care"". You may not see us ,but we are everywhere! God puts "Caregivers" here to "Care"! Did you see that "Caregiver watching "Over" "There"? "Let us "Love";Do not be afraid of "Loving too,too,much: Love is "The Fulfilling" of "The Law"!
DEDICATED TO ANDREA DIETRICH AND PAUL CALLUS WHO SEEM TO THINK BY CORRECTING PUPILS PAPERS IS THE SAME AS JUDGING PS CONTESTS.
They teach
They preach
They bloody screech.
Teachers coach
The weak they approach
To their weakness they encroach.
They advise
For some they compromise
Favourites are prioritize.
They manipulate
Teachers to their innocents stipulate
If opposed they intimidate.
Teachers I was one and did the same
I saw beyond and felt the shame
We all looked ahead the pupil’s exam.
Two Judges sitting,
side by side,
one condemns,
the other saves lives.
To place someone,
in a cell so cold,
is the job of one,
since time of old.
The other one saves,
He knows their heart,
and forgives their sins,
cleaning every part.
Two Judges sitting,
side by side,
one is truth,
the other one day,
will stand trial.
planning and replanning all the freaking time twenty four seven
who are you to judge
the problem is you
if you like some shoot you say it is good
great write brilliant touching and all those crap sorry
back to reading the 38 poems
most of them are laborious today
following a pattern artificial rhyming
big funky words for no reason
no life or spark i am hungry
who am i to judge still we judge silently
then i write nice johnny or clarinet or gangadhar
or whatsoever
people like their names even when you are angry at them
life is so funny like a snake and mangoose
i am getting kind of tired from last nights
no alcohol no cigars and no ecstatic union
i was forced to quit the first 2 a few years ago
thanks to the architect of the third
familiarity breeds contempt you know what i am saying
F word
what happened to pete and keith or rocco i can kind of
relate to or bev skate and charms or the destroyer
or the silent well
i skip the one liners and the contests usually
but today i need to keep my promise and i am hungry
F
the lady from the south i guess who was talking about
black and white pools gave a small lift
like a glass of beer
i am tired of writing nice nice and very nice
i need to urinate and defecate[are they bad words}
and eat the cold break fast soon
the one liners are really getting onto my nerves and the contests
the lady from the east really flipping me out
i am on thirty one and jeez this guy who has written about five
thousand poems and still writing the same old beauty eday
is on.i am holding my breath praying to god for patience and
am writing very very nice for the last time today my breakfast is cold
who am i to judge
So, I’m the last survivor of a breed that ruled the world!
Brrr! It’s getting mighty cold.
I suppose we can’t complain though. Our innings was quite long.
Brrrr! It’s getting mighty cold.
When I was just a nipper not long hatched from the egg,
Brrrrr! It’s getting mighty cold,
My dinosaurus granddad told us stories of an age,
When everything was beautiful and fair.
We had a democratic system,
We had judges stern but just.
No one knew what hunger was,
We just ate ferns and moss.
O happy salad days!
Brrrrrr! It’s getting mighty cold.
I suppose we got too dozy in our leafy paradise
And didn’t see the rot was setting in.,
When a bad-egg dinosaurus by the name of Tyrannosaurus
Decided violent revolution was a more preferable solution
To the problems of the state than was steady evolution.
Brrrrrrr! It’s getting mighty cold.
He taught that eating lettuce was a very foolish practice,
That eating meat was what we ought to do.
“In the case of scarcity, don’t think t a perversity
To eat a weaker brother. Let the weak go to the wall!
Brrrrrrrr! It’s getting mighty cold.
The ensuing decimation with each succeeding generation
Of our species led in time to a general deterioration,
Then a cataclysmic annihilation until the time has come
That I’m the only one left to tell the tale.
Brrrrrrrrr! It’s getting mighty cold.
Those frisky little suckers that constantly make fun of us
Doubtless think they’ll have it all their way – and so they may!
The sun denies to none of heydays at least one.
But after that? Brrrrrrrrrr! It’s getting mighty cold!
THE FORGOTTEN JUDGES
I had forgotten them because it was long ago
But nothing is forgotten
It is all written in the book
The great ledger showing credits and debits
Used to think of Judgement as being
A guy in a white beard totting up
The debits and credits and then awarding
Some sort of final gift based on the balance
Now it has suddenly become clear that
There will be perhaps a small handful of
People from the past, now long gone,
Facing me as I approach the teller’s grille
They stop me as I try to join the line,
And draw me aside to their small group
I can’t remember them - but they remember me
An old woman all wet from the rain,
Two guys looking down-and-out without jobs or hope
A schoolkid with broken glasses from some class of losers
And an African child, way too thin to be healthy.
They all smiled and talked about incidents
Where I had touched their lives somehow.
With my weekly cheque, the African had survived and become an engineer.
Glasses-kid graduated school, grew up and found a wife in Chicago.
One old guy had died soon after I met him,
But with a warm meal inside his belly and hope.
Other guy liked the job I got him in some recycling place.
Old woman had spent my cash on lessons for her grandson -
Every bag of her pickled cabbage I bought on that windy wet street
Sent him to school and he earned enough to look after her
In her older years, much to her relief.
I said I was glad to see them again, looking so well.
Even though I didn’t remember them –
But that I really had to get in line for the grille
They said listen up - you can
Skip the line, go straight in the white door over there,
And say we sent you - you’ll be ok.
Those overly particular judges
Give me a halt when I see their contests
Asking to write what I feel
In hard form plus a kyrielle
I better go and take my long bed rests.
At first, I did once, spending my whole night
Started from the topic I needed to write
Half of pantoum, I dozed off
Felt like floated with the roof
My poem was posted after a week, fight!
All entries were judged after some few months
My poem moved to next page, new poems in front
Mine wasn’t found on the list
After passing judges’ wrist
Whose strictness lied on perfect rhymes and fonts.
Those overly particular judges
Give me a halt when I see their contests
Asking to write what I feel
In hard form plus a kyrielle
I better go and take my long bed rests.
I wonder:
If we believe that Jesus Christ is the only BEGOTTEN Son of God,
Do we get a free ride into heaven?
Yes and No!
Yes, because Jesus overcame the grave and was resurrected,
We all will likewise be resurrected.
We have been saved from eternal demise…because of Jesus.
…And perfection!
And NO because if we fail to forgive, we will not be forgiven…so Jesus said!
I ask, then, will we obtain exaltation if we disapprove of another and condemn him?
(We MUST leave that responsibility to God who can read the heart?)
Can we censure, disparage, denounce, rebuke, defile, slam, attack, find fault, knock,
reproach, scorn, or criticize and still be held blameless during our own judgment?
Is it enough to say, “I am sorry, please forgive me”? Then, dismiss our human
weakness?
Or must we teach ourselves to STOP!
If we ridicule, tease, and make fun of another,
Do we deny ourselves of higher spirituality?
I say, “Yes!”
Understanding, compassion, and pure love diminish.
If we judge others, we will be judged likewise.
If we forgive others, we will be forgiven likewise.
Jesus said, “Yes!”
Forgiveness teaches love, tolerance, and understanding.
Blaming teaches hatred, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.
The choice is ours to make.
Will we spend our hearts and souls making fun of another for personal amusement?
Or might we, instead, look inside the hearts of another with Christ-like wisdom?
Life is a learning process; love takes practice.
Good luck to all who seek righteousness and exaltation.
For eternal life is more than a game of wits.
It is a competition between righteousness and wickedness.
The choice is ours and it is free!
What choose you, this day?
God help us all!
life is so funny
like the snake n the mangoose or the ladder
last night i promised
after the epiphany
i will read all the poems in the forum
of new and old poets premium and regular
before break fast
food is the easiest way to bliss
we are in this online forum for poets
amateur poets where we post our freaking
poems early every day except national holidays
i am under a spell these days and might
run out of space or more characters as it happened
with collective sin is a virtue
we are kind of restricted bondaged here
so watch whenever the space run out or
more characters
this will be over
like a cardiac arrest bless my soul
rip
thirty eight funky poems seems like
they all decided to throw out their emotional garbage
this nice morning when i am hungry
jeez
we cant even curse here for fun rules
F
words i guess
i hate it sometimes poems like these
deserves it
who is an amateur and who is a professional
i guess pros have more b acumen hire agents and
make little money unlike us.
who makes money any way by writing stupid poems
they say
write a novel or a screen play or atleast a short story
poets are kind of lazy; F word.
sun comes out of the hut like
a teen age girl smiling shy
all poems are good i promise
it is the lazy sweat of a liberating soul
who lifts a pen or hit a key instead of accumulating
n possessing counting n calculating bonding and stocking
planning and replanning all the freaking time twenty four seven
who are you to judge
the problem is you
if you like some shoot you say it is good
great write brilliant touching and all those crap sorry
judges asked me what is a meter
well it is three feet three inches and change
jesus where is he from arent you ashamed to call you a poet
what is a foot
foot is you know one we walk with or twelve inches
jeez how can we help him the lady seemed very kind
what is iambic foot
i was kind of irritated and blurted out
bla BLA
he passed they shouted and seemed keen
on "passing" me away
When the disciples James and John saw this, they asked, “Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?”
But Jesus turned and rebuked them.
Luke 9:54-55
How easily man judges,
hates, throws down the gauntlet.
Oh can’t you see - God is the merciful one.
We hang ‘em high and hang ‘em low
(Better than them, am I)
We love to be one of the mob,
pointing, mocking, laughing.
Are we teachable?
The lord stopped James and John in their tracks.
(Oh I wish he’d be condemned,
send fire down on his head.)
Oh sure…we are the truth tellers,
we imagine ourselves to be god.
We want, him or her, destroyed?
But ahem…God could destroy anyone,
anytime. His purposes are greater than ours.
I’m grateful for that. You should be too.
Oh can’t you see - God is the merciful one.
I don’t want to see what’s in your nose.
Bring it level. If God judged you today
without His help, guess where you’d be?
He says wild things like:
Love your enemies!
The good news trumps your newspaper
and news on t.v.
If your nose tilts, let your eyes see God’s
peace, mercy and grace
…a revolution of love
10/28/2022