Long Judging Poems
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Revelations of the Spirit!
Good things are known to come to those who come before their God,
who praise release from earthly woes by celebrating days
of spilling sperm (that meets its end or egg that sparks new life),
creation’s spark has pitched its tent in place of excrement.
“Both fair and foul are next of kin” (1) (if I might paraphrase
some words Jane speaks), with grave and bed compared, noblesse oblige
for those less traveled in this world! What Bishop knows a wife
(excuse)? The pleasures of the flesh called sin (despite intent)
by those who bow to Popes, to Satan’s spawn! A privilege
that they don’t practice! When they think, think those who do so odd!
Will Jane find love although her breasts have grown quite flat with time,
(though proud priests say she’s ignorant of things that matter most)?
I think she will, though dark days come and time eclipses all!
What Nature IS, what Nurtures man, is not his providence,
nor can we think to save ourselves, if God’s not real, we’re toast!
Is worth of self what Jane boasts of, the raptures of the mind?
Can body’s curves, a garment’s subtle wrap, how tresses fall,
boast they’re of what she speaks! Or lowliness her evidence
she matters? God’s grand scheme of things? Not judging (she’d call kind)!
Massaging rhythms vital, love for seasons, love of rhyme!
Long Tooth
1st of September in 2020
Poet’s Notes:
(1) One of my favorite poems by William Butler Yeats
Crazy Jane Talks with the Bishop
I met the Bishop on the road / And much said he and I.
‘Those breasts are flat and fallen now / Those veins must soon be dry;
Live in a heavenly mansion, / Not in some foul sty.’
‘Fair and foul are near of kin, / And fair needs foul,’ I cried.
‘My friends are gone, but that’s a truth / nor grave nor bed denied,
Learned in bodily lowliness / And in the heart’s pride.’
‘A woman can be proud and stiff / When on love intent;
But love has pitched his mansion in / The place of excrement;
For Nothing can be sole or whole / That has not been rent.’
*
*
Does anyone want to comment or have thoughts about why Yeats would be so
cavalier about meter in the last two lines of each stanza, even the 1st line of the second stanza when 'Both fair and foul..' would be such an easy fix! It seems hard to believe that he is deliberately sloppy. What is his purpose here?
they say forgive and forget
remember and hold to account
seems to be frowned upon
and memorable events take a while
to manifest digest and process
narratives change with the core
at every reason and heart
‘everything is wrong and it is all your fault
what exactly you will have to find out yourself
I will put our relationship into a drawer
and possibly open it again once you …’
have changed to her wishes?
relinquished any meaningful part in the drama?
conceded to her perfidious pantomime?
are totally broken?
‘you claimed that one cannot talk to a depressed one
but were you not projecting your discontent?’
years on the metaphorical couch
like a spider in a cobweb of distrust
attempting to just pull one string
breaking at rock bottom
with someone else throwing rocks
from a fortress of a glass house
accusations lies silence pretense of innocence
and turning children against him
he walked a difficult path
many a time running on empty
but eventually it turned out to be
the best thing that could happen
and he found new love
made peace with his offspring
invested in kindness and compassion
now lives with his lover and soulmate
chapters however can only be closed
when the epilogue has been written
when the spine of the book
stands upright in truth
for years he maintained that she
could not have done any better
did not cope with her own crisis
and he absolved her from further critique
the protagonist eventually found his voice
He has become I and I lay to rest
my memories of that evil malignant
and greedy you chose to become
it was you who tore me apart
and watched with satisfaction
when I became vulnerable and depressed
discredit where discredit is you
it is not about settling score
or spread sheets of retribution
simple honesty will do and
I don’t have to be nice
because poems understand
and refrain from judging the writer
but deep in my soul I do not care
that you have turned lonely and bitter
because while I am privy to
exquisite satisfied pleasure
you made your bed
and that is empty for a reason
trying to hack out my eyes and essence
made me spread my wings joyfully
and you are an old haggard crow
merely feeding on crumbs
05th August 2021
Our story began behind bars with the broken,
Displaying our armor with truths left unspoken.
Through the gates each day, our counselor hats on,
Where pain wore a face, and hope felt long gone.
You, with your wisdom and counselor’s grace,
Me, burnt out but still showing my face.
We stitched up souls with words and care,
In a world where few even knew we were there.
"Eight and the gate" rang like a drum in our chest,
Till we traded our keys for a long-needed rest.
No longer confined, our world opened wide,
With pups at our heels and friends by our side.
Bella, a farting cutie with sass to spare,
Jack Dangles—cutest dude anywhere,
Ollie, judging all with a skeptical eye,
And mine, loyal, wild, barking at the sky.
We measured our days in tail wags and sparks,
And found light in our dogs when the world turned dark.
You’re my news anchor, my human rant,
My “yes you can” when I swear I can’t.
We share stories and snacks and fried calamari,
And laugh till we wheeze like a nursing home party.
You’re blue as the sky, I’m red underneath,
But we cry the same tears from sorrow and grief.
We talk of the world—no judgment, no shame,
Different opinions, but hearts just the same.
You bring the fire, and I bring the “me,
”?You rage at the news with raw clarity.
(You really should join that Trump-haters squad—
They’d give you a mic and a standing applaud.)
When the world gets too heavy, we know what to do—
Dogs, snacks, the news, and a cry or two.
You’ve saved me from drowning more than you know,
With sarcasm, love, and that fierce Jewish glow.
You check in with care that never feels fleeting—
Usually starting with, “Hey… what you eating?”
You’re braver than you’ll ever admit,
Still fighting each day with your sharp, clever wit.
You ache in the places that scream in the night,
But you rise. You stay. You still fight.
I’m twelve percent Jewish, I love to remind—
Which explains why I cry and complain all the time.
You yell “Borscht!”—I say, “What’s that mean
”You sigh, “Oh hush, just eat something green.”
You’re my friend beyond what words can explain—
Through doctor reports and every bloodstain.
If life’s a long walk with no real map,
I’m glad it’s with you—nap by nap.
We’re still here. We’re still us.
Still wrapped in dog fur, still raising a fuss,
Partners in crime—chaos, a must.
Hey what did I miss?
Do I owe you something,
that every time I make a move in life you react?
Do I owe you success?
That every time I drown, making bad decisions
You recognize,
Judging like an expert.
Does it hurt to mind your own business?
To make absoluteness in your own garden?
And Show us how magical your opinions can be,
Unfortunately, I am not even really bothered in what you do
Course I am too focused on what I do.
Few Opportunities I blew,
And I am not afraid to start off building by a canoe
In my life patience is virtue, and that is one of my principles.
I am not running a race, nor am I in competition,
I am passionate, even risk I don't mind taking
And with assurance I am gonna top up my life with a barbeque.
I dont really care what you think of me,
Please do the same,
I am trying to live my life.
Please stay back from following me around, you are not my shade.
Please stay back, I am not getting married, I dont need a brides-maid
And I am not your lake so please stop showing up like you are a mermaid.
I am saying this and it does not mean I am afraid of you
It’s just all irritating.
Let me downgrade,
Of course that would be so unfortunate.
And Let me loose concentration,
Of course that might seem out of fashion.
You are not sorry, so no need to pretend.
Cut the act,
Course I know it is what you wanted to celebrate in a decade.
Maybe it got delayed.
And maybe I overplayed, but that is still not your concern.
Hey, Im trying to live,
I am trying to live my life the best way I know how.
I fall, I brake, I rise, I succeed, I loose, I fail, make bad decisions, overstay in my struggles?
That should not matter.
Please give me a breath,
I am just trying to live
And In advance I forgive you
Just please! stop being pain in the ass, I want relief,
I don’t wanna be aggressive
You are so destructive, please Just exit.
Exit from my bussiness,
The show is full, I don’t need a guest speaker.
You are too lost in my space please go find yourself somewhere else,
And Stop being a gossiper, you will grow weaker.
Stay focused in your own lane, and use your brain,
And Stop peeping through my book, write your own.
Live your life,
I am also trying to live my own the best way I know how.
I am trying to live,
I am trying to live my life, in peace The best way I know how.
Civility and Man: A Historical View
Since man began to populate the earth,
And feel the pull of Satan’s evil ways.
The angels came to teach the fallen souls:
Proposing righteous ways to live earth days.
Decorum had been taught both then and now.
Man, Adam and his wife with death had played.
The badly chosen fruit waylaid their plight.
Enlightened, but from loving God they strayed.
Significance and consequence brought death.
The mortal two began to populate.
So rules of etiquette began to grow.
And man’s new fate embraced their mortal state.
Before too long, grave envy showed its face.
And Cain did not obey the rules, as taught.
He chose a rock and struck his brother dead.
Civility was not wrought in that rock.
When Moses led his people through the sands.
And Father carved some rules upon a stone.
Uncivilized, they bickered, played, and sinned.
Respect for God and His great words had flown.
When Socrates and Plato came around,
Civility…philosophy was deep.
The Ten Commandments were the reigning rules.
And politics gave zealousness a hold.
George Washington and others wrote some rules.
These rules were social rules, not civil laws.
Civility back then meant manner’s guide.
Respecting one another, yielding self.
The hundred plus ten rules, then set in place.
Fell prey to proper conduct’s judging ways.
And judgment for their lacking could be cruel.
If down the nose one’s self-worth found a sneer.
Dear Harry Truman taught a civil dream.
Of unity within the scope of men,
Together working for the greater good.
All brothers hand in hand respecting each.
The world today is filled with hatred’s fray.
Mankind now turns away from loving ways.
The common man believes all shall be well.
Surprise! Civility is on the road to hell.
Good actions are respecters of all men.
With energy beget not violent ways.
Or great travail shall overcome mankind.
Civility to me, most surely means:
Loving one another, there and at home.
Willfully revising loveless thinking.
Rebuking darkness with the light of love.
Unity and freedom…let us ring.
United wisdom drinking of love’s well,
No longer greeting slaughter of lost hope.
But civilly, rethinking plights of man.
© Name withheld for the contest
March 21, 2010
Poetic form: Free Verse
PLEASE PRAY FOR THE WORLD AND FORWARD THIS AS INSPIRED.
Fight for your country but we're all brother in soul
Why are we so ignorant of the situation
Why is there so much hatred between our nations
Why are we fighting for the wars
There has only been massive destruction in the course
They say fight against but when will it stop
We are just playing a game that's killing at the top
How i wish for no more discrimination only charisma
The hope for no more judging and no more racism
One united world is what we'd call it in those days
Not knowing the resemblance or the difference in those plays
Trying to make a change for a better place
I'm going to evolve into a change that rearrange
I'ma be a leader not a follower in my story
i"m not afraid to race in my glory
Watch me grow in these multitudes
With a desire to overcome in positive attitudes
Not just another one in the crowd
Wanting me, myself and i to be proud
Not if people know how I'm feeling
Or if my notes are any much revealing
I want to be listened to and memorized along history
My melodies will be more than the different like Elvis Presley
More than the unique but not lie the usual
Not afraid of being who I am I'm not unusual
Day by day trying to figure out what God plans for me
everyday Im looking for my destiny
Knowing none of this to you might make any sense
But lets worry about the now not the past tense
now there's a time for every season
Knowing everything happens for a single reason
Knowing how it feels to be alone in a world of many
But i have Jesus and I'm sure that's plenty
Cause and effect being human is a result of virtues and defects
There's a time to live and a time to die
There's a time to live and a time to cry
Wanting to do something here and about
Exhaling a shout
Wanting to cry out that for sure
Making a single wish on a million shooting stars
Believing I'm locked up but not behind bars
Locked inside a maximum security called inner self
Going through something I've never delft
Why is this happening to me
Reasons are complicated to see
Or to believe in such disasters
Sometimes i wish i could just die faster
A topic which seems long way off is really not that far
My soul locked inside a body jar
Sometimes having those dreams that make you doubt and intervene
It changes your perspectives with a rotation of electives
A mentality in a state of maturity
Not close to being a fallen angel with any much purity
Those leather pants fit perfectly
Against your skin. I can’t stop
Staring; You can’t stop teasing -
It keeps me up all night,
Struggling to
Keep shouting.
Nothing is resolved when you slam
The bedroom door - Don’t sleep
Angry. You know I hate it when you
Surprise me in the shower and
Turn the screws until I
Can’t even think. All the blood
Rushes to my head when I
Clutch the curtain – you know
I am there.
I see you see me as I
Hope we won’t wake up bitter in the morning,
Casting those cross couch glances and
Judging. Your eyes are killer
Aphrodisiacs, constantly seducing me
Like that time I had to
Pin you in the grass.
As the rain came down I kissed
Your lips and cradled you.
I can still close my eyes and hear you whisper
“You’ve left the toilet seat up again,”
I tell you that I’m sorry but we both know
In the dim light of the television set
I am barely listening.
You smile and shake your head,
For therein lies a flaw you choose to live with.
You swear, one of these days you are going to
Turn off the light and kiss
Every inch of my body
In honor of my being me,
And in honor of your being you,
I will return the favor.
Afterward, we’ll lie in love,
Smiling in a comfortable silence
Like the uncomfortable silences
At the ends of those trivial arguments
You start yet can’t finish.
There is no retort for my abashing.
You say you’re sorry but we both know
That you don’t really mean it,
So I make sacrifices I choose to live with.
I swear one of these days I am going to
Cook the most wonderful meal,
The kind where silence is a compliment
Ending with content smiles,
Doing the dishes,
Cursing at new shirt stains and small cuts
From knives hidden under soap water
Although
We don’t really mind the healing process.
I sleep and think, Tomorrow
I should walk to the jewelry store and look over
Diamonds, as I think of our
Long nights, walking through lit up old villages
Cuddling on the couch in the television light
Drunkenly kissing beside bonfires
Sharing friends and glances
And love and life for good or for worse,
Carrying the same heart.
I can always push that button
That has you turn me on,
Be it a laugh, a smile, a sting, or a bite.
We do what it takes to make us happy
And it works,
Especially when you put on
Those leather pants.
You lied to me...
You lied to me when you said the church building was the safest place to run to-
When you made me believe those grey headed men dwelt in the castle of wisdom too-
That following every letter of the doctrine to the latter was the best way to live as a believer with little or no clue-
You lied to me...
You lied to my face with sweet utterances that lured me to confide in you-
Sweet lies with the beauty of butterflies you send from the pulpit right before my very eyes-
That hurting me with honest lies became the source of peace written in your skies-
You lied to me...
When you left me exposed to the harm of the world and spirits unknown by sending me out in discipline because I fell-
Protected your own, but left me, a fallen soldier to be chastised and face emotional torture, neglect and a living hell-
So you painted me black, as the sinner you see me, which means I count no more, so my pains and experiences I can't tell-
You lied to me...
That lies became the only truth I could believe in-
That no longer are words from your pulpit worth believing-
For every single statement you utter was more like the bullets aimed at deceiving-
You lied to me...
So don't make me lie to myself that you're the purest, cos I can no longer pretend-
For these words are not to slander or judge. No! This, I don't intend-
But I am a proof of my words so dare not ask me to defend-
You lied to me...
And you still lie when you call me dear, cos I know you don't even care-
You lost your saltines in my life, so your sermon has no slot in my ear-
For your letters, I'll tear, your voice I won't hear, cos the thought of believing you gives me fear-
You lied to me...
Under the covering of a minister, you hurt me over and over again-
Judging me by your standards caring less about my pain-
And getting humans to follow your doctrines not the creator, gets me sick and insane-
You lied to me...
So I pray I'll be the last soldier to ever fall-
The last you'll lie to and lash your rod of discipline into when you stand in front to call-
And a lesson on living by the standards of GOD OF MEN, not the MEN OF GOD to be learnt from by all-
For never again will I absorb your lies like foam and water cos man........, I'm older, am stronger and standing taller.
K.G Inji
(Orator of Wordz)
I let lust lead.
So when I speak on this,
I’m not guessing.
I’m not judging.
I know what it does.
It rips your heart.
Messes up your mind.
Twists how you see people
how you see yourself.
It cages you.
Makes you smile in public
but cry in secret.
Makes you feel too dirty for grace.
Too broken for mercy.
Too far for forgiveness.
And the worst part?
It makes you think God’s done with you.
And truth is — He should be.
But He’s not.
Because Jesus didn’t die for the cleaned-up version of you
He died for the broken one.
The ashamed one.
The addict.
The liar.
The boy with secrets.
The girl with regrets.
You can’t delete demons with a filter.
You can’t kill sin by willpower.
You can’t win this war by fighting flesh with flesh.
You need the Spirit.
You need God.
I tried everything.
Fasted. Blocked sites. Prayed.
Deleted apps. Made promises.
And still fell.
Until the Holy Spirit whispered:
"You don't get free by pretending you're not bound.
You get free by bringing it to the light."
So I did.
I confessed.
Not to impress.
But to survive.
To finally live.
And you know what?
God didn’t cancel me.
He covered me.
He didn’t shame me.
He saved me.
No lightning.
No thunder.
Just quiet conviction
and loud mercy.
Now, I don’t boast in my strength.
Because it wasn’t me.
It was always God.
Every time I said, “I can’t,”
He whispered, “I can.”
Every time I fell,
His grace picked me up again.
I still fight
but now I fight from victory, not for it.
I’m not perfect
but I’m free.
And I write this for you.
Yes, you.
If you’re stuck in ****,
trapped in shame,
thinking it’s too late
It’s not.
Jesus didn’t just die to save you from hell.
He died to save you from this.
This secret sin.
This silent prison.
This hidden addiction.
So bring it to Him.
Say it out loud.
Let the light in.
Because when you confess,
He doesn’t walk away
He walks in.
He breaks chains.
He still does.
And I am living proof.
So let the world hear this:
My little secret sin is now exposed
not to shame me,
but to free someone else.
Because if He did it for me,
He can do it for you.
Let the world hear.
Let the broken repent.
Let the captives run free.
Let the light shine in the darkest room.
This is not weakness.
This is freedom.
This is Jesus.
And He is still breaking chains.
“Get lost, I don’t care,” snarled the young wolf disingenuously
The naïve stripling wanted little more than acclaim
With no knowledge of why it continued--
The
slow
pulsing
of his
ruby
vitality
into the
wounds of others
Which he mistook for his own
One day kind fate bestowed a gift like none else:
A life full to overflowing
With loving family and meaningful work
There was not one single extra quantum of energy
Work all day, family all evening, sometimes work all night
It all suffered from itself in a lovely, mediocre sort of way
But mostly it clarified
An argument, a stressful day, a worry had a price:
Family time, sleep, energy always the losers
Zero sum, one in, one out, unavoidable
The luxury of care was
dead.
So when rumors flew pell-mell, as they do
Like the Wicked Witch’s monkeys
I let them, not pyrrhically hunting them
To their nattering source
And out went the sheep in sheepdogs’ clothing,
Tissue paper acquaintances by the dozens,
Card house construct of popularity
and most of all, irrelevant obligations
If you care so little as to be swayed by the winds of rumor
Then that’s how much investment I have in you.
Bye.
I’m ironclad when impeccably intact in my integrity
Vulnerable only when I drop below my own equator
To the muck-slinging hyenas that beset us all
For when I am true to me, any harsh judgment of me
Reflects only on the one doing the judging,
as I am FREE
This is not to say that I own no bathroom freshener
--To keep the boat afloat, one must diligently look for leaks--
But the double-edged steel of the naked truth
Is the
only defense
And the best nutrient for the garden within
For then and only then am I right with myself and God,
And free as can be expected
from the cares of this world
6/9/16
© By Author
For Contest: Rise above it
Sponsor: Becca Teagan