Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Francis Oct 2023
Someone told me,
To water my own grass,
But what they neglected to mention,
Is that my grass is crass.

This is due to my unfortunate past,
Every minute spent kissing ***,
To be walked on and trampled by,
Boots and heels of brass.

So no, I will most certainly not,
Water my own grass,
The thoughts and evaluations,
Of the judgment I pass,
Is necessary and voluntary,
In a sea of largemouth bass.
Another poem about judgment of character since I’m always in defense.
"horrible bird"
she called it
telling of how
she had watched
a crow pluck
and pry at
its weakened prey
while perched upon
the bird bath
outside her window
at the garden's edge
despite this sternest
of lessons
nature at its most fickle
she still sits
in her comfy chair
looking out
over a bank of flowers
buoyant in bloom
enjoying the sight
of wagtail
bunting and finch
alighting on the stone plinth
pompous and preening
refreshing themselves
admiring the plumage
of their reflection
before returning once more
to wing and wind
Heidi Franke Apr 2023
Start with self.
The others can wait.

Thoughts are just passing clouds for which to meditate.
Observe the world as the observer, not the taker or receiver.

Judges are for benches. Do not sit alone.
   Stand and walk into the songs of birds.
   Free within your self called home.
You discriminated against me my whole life.
Good luck being discriminated against in Hell forever.
Zack Ripley Sep 2022
I know. It can be scary to feel.
You either feel too much or nothing at all.
Or even worse, you feel you've hit the bottom
so many times you stop being afraid of the fall. Maybe you're already there,
and you decide to take a look around.
You start to feel safe.
Because you fear you'll be judged
if you are ever found.
Judged for falling when people thought
they were picking you up.
Judged for staying at the bottom just because you were "stuck in a rut."
And these fears are valid.
These fears may come true.
But these judgements will come
from people who love you.
I know it might not be clear
what I'm trying to say, so here it is:
it's okay to be afraid.
But if no one knows there's a problem,
they'll never be able to help show you the way.
My Dear Poet Jan 2022
I create a giraffe
from a paper craft
green was its colour
“Nice dinosaur”, they said
hmmm…
should’ve chosen red
or tan tinted paper

So I flip in half,
squash fold to a calf
It’s simply done with ease
“Nice baboon”, they said
hmmm…
I change again instead
to an island and palm trees

with mountain and valley folds
we unfold what creation holds
and recreate a world from disaster
we make a judgment fold
from the view they hold
hmmm…
if only change is as simple as folding paper
Origami - a Japanese word meaning 'folding paper'.
The two most important folds and the simplest are the valley fold and the mountain fold. They form the foundation of all origami models.

There is also a Judgement fold where an exact location point does not exist, and so you locate the fold by eye alone
My Dear Poet Jan 2022
In this remote and cold world
Peter and his beautiful wife, Pearl
lived alone, most on their own, together
Pearl loved Peter with her life
she was an honourable wife
till death, did do them apart, forever

Every morning before the sun
she’d rise up and she would come  
and kneel at his feet by the bed
She’d roll on his warm sock
put on his slippers, in her smock
every day, since the day they had wed

All her friends knew of her love
mocking, laughed, “it’s enough!
thinking, he treated her like a slave
But it was only then, when he died
that they all stopped and sighed
realising just exactly what he’d gave

for every night when they’d sleep
he pulled up the blanket to keep
her face warm and little nose
for poor Peter was taller
and the covers were shorter
exposing his feet and freezing his toes
My Dear Poet Oct 2021
I  have five fingers
Raised in my defence
You accept my surrender
We shake, without offence
Till, I point with my index
Raise my thumb for a gun
Curl three fingers back
Tucked into my palm
“Bang! …Bang! You shot me
A simple twist of my wrist
You aim it back at me
A hand gun for a fist
There is no defence when standing in judgment of others
070221

Kung gaano kalayo ang silangan sa kanluran
Ay gayundin nya inalis sa atin ang ating mga kasalanan.

Para sa mga taong akala nilang mag isa silang lumalaban
Sa mga taong tumatakbo’t napapatid ng kadiliman
Sa mga taong naghahagilap ng katotohan.

Sino nga ang ba ang tunay na saksi ng ating mga kamalian?
Tayo ba’y tinutulak ng mundo papalayo sa liwanag?
O tayo yung nananatiling tapat sa kabila ng mga kaguluhan?

Marahan ang pag ihip ng hangin kung saan tayo’y patungo sa mga bituin
Ngunit ang araw ay sasapit na ang Liwanag ay bubulag
Sa harapan at walang pasabi na Sya ay darating.

At kahit pa anong gawin natin sa mundong patikim lamang,
Sana alam natin kung saan nga ba tayo nakatingin
Pagkat tumatakbo tayo papalayo, naghihilaan pababa at pataas.

Kailan ba tayo mananahimik at kusang magpaubaya ng lakas?
Nang ang lahat ng ating alinlangan, sana’y makaya nating mawaksian
Pagkat sa nalalabing mga oras, tayo ri’y mahuhusgahan.
Next page