Best Misjudgment Poems


A Loving Aversion

How do you compare to others
are you grateful for what you tend
is your life not what you imagined
is anger a childhood friend

Why tap the keys with bitterness
does illusion light your stage
what’s reflected in your mirror
how authentic is this play

Is perfection worth the measure
vulnerability for just the tame
are your sleepless nights no burden
do your blankets shroud the pain

Is defense the chosen weapon
is your quiver filled with woes
will you shoot those fiery arrows
till your tide ebbs to a close

Do you see what’s in the running
will tomorrow ever come
can you ascend to some contentment
or will energy succumb

Those doors slammed  tight before you
could you bust them with embrace
alas, its life’s misjudgment
to forever lose the taste

Premium Member Mustard Seed Paradise

Fundamentalists
Evangelists
Jihadists
HolyWar and Final Judgment and RoughLove Advocates
against infidels and other, more domesticated, sinners:

Put down your Bibles and Korans,
written to grow love 
and not weapons for bleary-eyed bullies.

You spend too much time reading and thinking
and arguing
to let your spiritual emotions swell and grow love.

Instead,
pick up a small recycled brown paper bag
of healthy 
fertile
organic mustard seeds.

Learn faith with them,
that together you might grow
to know
this radiant reign of God's Eternal Light and NonDual Dark.

Plant them into Advent darkness,
care for them,
water them
and not the tarish tearing weeds
of envy and supremacy,
hypocrisy and punishing misjudgment,
superstition 
and hope for antiEarth anti-logical magic,
nightmares and violence,
anger and fear-mongering,
Old Testament blood sacrifices
and enslavement to false fascist idols
as if these were large enough
to contain the wisdom of one regenerative mustard seed,
sprouting radiant love for God's sun
and MotherEarth's baptismal waters,
fueling our shared root restorative ecosystem.

Harvest these therapeutic cultures of health
and gratitude
and grace,
make spicy brown mustard with them.
Serve to and from your students
and children
and mentees
on homemade 7-Grain ReGenerate Manna.

Wait for Paradise
to flow through your mouths,
down your throats,
into your communion stomachs.

If your kids are faithful and loving goats,
watch them wag their tails,
wages of love and not sin,
in gratitude for Grace.

If human
help us listen to,
and speak,
and write better tales
for restorative healing of love,
omnipresent as a mustard seed's integrity
of each moment's sacred with secular potential.

And if you should learn faith as one of these kids,
your tail
and tales
will wag truer,
and far more grace-filling effective
and affective
and infective
and reflective
too.

Then you may be safe to return 
to your holier-with-you gardening books
on how to grow histories of love
without sinning against faith
of a mustard seed.

The Tightrope

The barbed tightrope sways menacingly
The imperceptible border separating
A chaotic world from
Inevitable peaceful sleep

She runs without trepidation
Bloodied, stained and scarred bare feet
Immune to the flesh eating jagged edges
Slivers of her soul left at every piercing blade

Leaps powered by her blatant disregard for life
Unfazed by her own inflicted sway
Thoughtless to the potential plummeting
Life or death

Escaping manic voices
Echoing from the depths of 
A lunatic mind
A despairing heart
A tragedy riddled soul

Wisps of hope begin to snake beside her
                                             An alluring path
                                                                 A mirage of dreams

Stillness overwhelms
Baited breath
Mesmerizing foolish belief 
Past lessons forgot
Temptation triumphing 
Over resistant faith

Lured into the pretense
                                     Arms reach out in desperation
                                              Fingertips barely grasping the fast fading hope
Mad laughter echoing from the mouths of the illusionists

The onward chase of hope as it turns to dust
Ripples of violent swaying beneath her feet
Voices encircling
A sprint driven by 
The divine hunger for the seemingly last remnants of happiness

Leaping into nothingness
Delusional enlightened hope
Only a mirror of her heart’s desires
A mere reflection of her pleading tears
 
Misjudgment 	
Condemnation
Failure
Sentenced

                                   And with flailing arms she falls
                                     The tightrope gone forever.


A Youthful Girl In Cold War Part I

Deficient air I breathe in my lungs
In this world now I live, daddy's are careless
The children feeling helpless
Mother's have to play two characters
All I can see is the tears
That flow down their cheeks
Why am I disrespected by the one's who I look up to
I stick with my boys, because I never understood 
Why girls constantly hate each other 

I'm just a youthful girl in cold war
I'm constantly going through it
misjudgment and jealousy constantly bothering me
I'm just a youthful girl at cold war

Trying to fit in is so called being cool
Its just another word for being someone else fool
If they smoke, dislikes him or her
Then that person does the same
Now its all eyes on me so I have to go along too

Since I look at life at a different angle
I chose to go my own way
If my clothes ain't tight then he isn't going to like me
Being nice it's just a bad finish in the end
I guess I come last, some still say I'm just stuck in my past
As much as my pulverized heart been through 
I learned to put off love as it corker, belittlement, and depressed me for years

I'm just a youthful girl in cold war
I'm constantly going through it
misjudgment and jealousy constantly bothering me
I'm just a youthful girl at cold war

Of Love's Syndrome

OF LOVE’S SYNDROME


Insomnia
Loss of appetite
Daydreaming
Incessant smiling
Neurotic
Indecisiveness
Misjudgment
Distress
Stress
Walking endlessly
Flighty
On cloud nine
Ulceritis
Hard of hearing
Nervous breakdown
Imagine illness
Unexplainable phenomena
Sinusitis
Unknown cause of crying
Disorientation.

PLEASE SEE A CARDIOLOGIST OR A COMEDIAN!

Premium Member Overcoming Torture of Frustration

I loathe the grief of frustration torture
Especially when my care-giving work is jeopardized
Caused by misjudgment of no regard to rendered sacrifices
Bringing to naught my volunteerism-spirit
Prodded with love’s motive, optimized graciously.

When gripped by the torments of failure’s misery
I cling to God and cleave to His power with faith
Confessing faults, admitting incompetence...
Delighting in His pardon, I move toward stewardship triumph’s height
While defying self-pity’s dominance.

Thus, I conquer awful downfall guilt
Overcoming taunting mockery of negative criticism
Striving as champion midst persistence-bout
Vanquishing allurements toward comfort zone lingering
Prevailing over clouts of scheming vanities.

Here I bask in the Lord's assured freedom around joyous peace
...Plunging into His compassionate rejuvenation
Believing that He knows my servant’s heart
As well as my intentions’ secrets which echo sincerity’s shouts…
Despite unfair treatments, I trust God’s perfect judgment*, always best!

*Deuteronomy 32:4 He is the Rock, his work is perfect: for all his ways are judgment: a God of truth and without iniquity, just and right is he.

October 12, 2018
2nd place, "Any New Free Verse Poem" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Lu Loo; judged on 10/28/2018.


What

The look on her face 
Told it all... 
She made me know 
That it's not 'seresere' 
I wasn't joking as well 
Then 
Two don cut four... 

I pouted 
I hissed 
I was pissed... 
Surely boys are not smiling.... 

The reason was one 
Misunderstanding... 
Misjudgment... 
Mistaking... 
Everyone just misinterpreting 
Your actions... 
It vexes the soul... 

But what can a man do? 
Patience... 

Such is life....

Said the Pandemic Aren'T You Afraid Yet

SAID THE PANDEMIC   aren't you afraid yet

I've been around a long time.
They call me SARS, MERS and now COVID-19. 
Take precautions, 
be clean and careful
for I descend like an Omen. 
Sneezing, 
coughing, 
bone chilling hot temperatures
that destroy your lungs 
and even your heart. 
I can be Deadly!
I am the result of human misjudgment and interjection, 
from consuming the forbidden, 
overuse of antibiotics, 
and chemical experiments to name a few. 
You know they created me.
So do yourself a favor, 
eat lots of veggies, 
fish, black seed oil,
take your vitamins, 
anything to boost your wimpy immune systems, 
because I refuse to be treated lightly. 
I do show up without knowledge, 
travel in thin air, 
spreading by the slightest of  touches, 
even lingering for a while, 
wherever you may leave me, 
on cart handles, 
door knobs, 
counter tops, 
wash rooms, 
just about any and everywhere. 
So be Cautious and Aware, 
for yes I AM DEADLY 
and will take you
before your time.
© Al Juman  Create an image from this poem.

Betrayal

once you take that first step down the path
the decision has been set upon and you cannot go back

now it is up to trust, that invisible demon or angel in waiting 
right or wrong the pendulum will swing in either direction

time a curse or a blessing guided by a compass
beholden to no one it has its own destiny 

for love once betrayed is a vengeful enemy 
setting off a cornucopia of storms of anger

unleashing the torments only goddesses can bestow
their ire thrust forth like a thunderous lighting strike

wishing to smite those that have broken her heart
there is no hiding from the maelstrom your betrayal has unleashed

bringing embarrassment to those that inhabit castles
a dire misjudgment in a moment of voluptuous temptation

is there now regret to having succumbed to human wontedness
it would appear so, hands now tied striding towards the inevitable

step by step moving closer to the sentence handed down
the walled fortress now a corral with no escape

and then I am there, she and a legion of men in waiting
a gilded sword sharp as any in the kingdom prepared

her golden hair blowing in the wind, delicate features revealed
utter beauty astonishing in the backdrop of a scorching sun 

how could I have traded this for a night of passion with another
now I am pushed down to kneel before her my heart racing wildly

she is judge and jury and as she draws back the sword 
I wonder if there is one morsel of sympathy in her repertoire

so I close my eyes and ponder why has my lust brought me here
all the whilst listening for the whoosh that will end my days or not

Andreas Simic©

Untitled

The seed implants in my head
Leabing the wound of a school marked by the hand
Once again it's caused misjudgment of me
Conservation is lost
So hold on...the ride is far too rough
Scream so they hear you again
Beneath the gorund the midnight lovers though
They thought they were alone
Once again my friends are banned
Hanging from trees with bark of a barbed wire frnce
Nylon burns so deep and the noose is too tight
My breath is taken from me
So hold on...the fall is far too long
Giving too much time to scream
Beneath the ground the midnight lovers though
They thought they were alone
But we were wrong!
We're watched from the distance
We're heard with satelites
Binocs and tripods kept us hiding
But we've found sanctuary

Finding Reasons To Live Through It

Flickers of flames
Licking embers
Slowly but surely
Do you see that?
Fire is catching
Fire is catching
Fire is catching
Every single
Pair of eyes
Glued on the screen
Following the recent reports
People kissing and raising their
Three middle fingers of their
Left hand
One by one
It’s the modern Salem witch trial
Lightly spoken words
Uttered with no precaution
With honesty and independence
Taken offensively
Interpreted in the opposite direction
Misjudged
Misunderstood
And finally
Leaving one lonely
They’re burning the witches
Anyone who doesn’t take
The side of “justice”
But it isn’t just
Two sides of the same penny
It isn’t just
Yin and Yang
There’s more than one
Angles and shades
Impossible to
Count and keep track of them
All
Not all of each are
Spoken out for
Where were you
When Gondor fell?
The other kingdoms were and
Are falling into flames
And
Continuing on
Kingdoms are still burning
Surely but slowly
When you were needed most
You were not there
And now
You seek Gondor’s support
There may come
A time of peace
However
Day by day
Witches were burnt at the stake 
For years and years
This world
Life is full of suffering
It’s hard
The world is cursed
But still
We find reasons
To keep living

Premium Member a blooper a blunder a bungle a botch

A blooper, a blunder, a bungle, a botch
A miscue, a misstep, misjudgment and more
A faux pas, a boo-boo, a bumble for sure
A miscalculation, a miscomputation, grade goes down a notch.

Circle of Life

The biggest coward of a man is to awaken
the love of a woman without the intention of loving her
as to love is to honour and cherish her soul

is a man a coward who deceives a women to protect their heart from breaking
can a man who truly loves a women live a life locked in a lie

when truth will break a women’s heart and question all she knew
and pain is thrust upon those that moments before loved without question 

can love be used as the reason for closing the lid on the box of misjudgment and deceit 
or is true love allowing a women the chance of happiness in a world of truth

will the pain of realisation and regret of the act felt inside,  be punishment enough for the sinner who wronged a saint 
if true sorrow resides within a blackened heart, can it allow untainted blood to flow once again

these questions have answers that lead to more questions until truth makes its way to the surface, the heartache the pain, the loss of trust and deceit is key to the box which holds the answer to the question that can only be discovered through consequences of the initial question you wished you never asked

Calling of Home

Focusing on my self; no other
filtered out all negative feelings
cut ties with deceptive dealings
home is calling so don't bother

Feeling things that make no sense
a little of revenge, guilt, anger, fuss
a lot of love, faith, truth, and trust
Thinking of things conjuring defense

Eliminate thoughts of all others
took for granted with misjudgment
challenging my truth with argument
now stuck in shame that smothers

No allies in this deceptive outer world
most live for bribes lies no alibis
all I truly hear is loud curdling cries
devastated by the truth, only can hurl

Let this be a lesson to trust only self
trust your own feeling and knowing
forgiveness and healing for growing
always room to help improve oneself

Not understanding my role in your life
no longer needed spoken or explained
hate jealousy greed no longer retained
dismantling what The Divine calls strife

Completes my assignments with grace
highs lows many death and rebirth
bring back LOVE to beautiful Earth
LOVE is home there's no other place

Premium Member Running with Rex

Running with Rex

I rowed a boat into a lake, to clear my head from feelling addled.
I forgot my big brown dog Rex, but after me he paddled.
A loyal shadow in the water, but my eyes just looked ahead
Rex's breath was giving out, but his spirit had not fled.

Luckily, father launched a boat from the beach.
Like  a hero in a story, his strong arms did reach.
Rex scrambled into his boat, a dripping mess.
Dad gave Rex a hug, I gave Rex a caress.

Later years Rex would run with me
I thought he was lucky, I thought he was free.
Better off than being inside a house all day
like many sad pets across the USA.

We ran with the track team of Jackson High
As he ran, he wheezed, I never asked why.
We ran all alone, up the mountain of Bear.
We ran like a two-man pack, in the clear dry air.

One hot summer day, he collapsed in the sun.
Looked so bad, fear gripped me, I felt my heart run.
I doused him with water, inside and out.
Like a desperate rain, trying to end a drought.

They tell me now that this was my final blow.
The wrong thing to do, but of course I didn't know.
I drove to the vet too fast, a risk to drivers on the way.
The sky seemed black, though it was a bright summer day.

The vet took one look and told me Rex was dead.
No more memories of me, eternal nothingness instead.
I had run Rex to death for a misguided ideal.
The rest of my life, this wound will not heal.

I had to tell my dad, and my brothers too.
Dad was bitter, but there was nothing left to do.
Wasn't that I was cruel, or that I'm not nice
Life's lessons hurt the most when others pay the price.

I tried to learn life's rules, to ask what can go wrong.
To pour cold water on manic ideals, to be wise and strong.
But many times, in later years, a victim took the fall.
If you can't think ahead, you become a human wrecking ball.

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