2012 April PAD Challenge: Day 22

For today’s prompt, write a judging poem. This is a poem that could be judging others, or it is a poem being judged. I realize there is the opportunity for feelings to get hurt with this poem–so please be mindful of language, subject matter, and personal attacks. (If any lines are crossed, please send me an e-mail at robert.brewer@fwmedia.com, but I’m hoping everyone can be respectful and still handle this prompt creatively.)

Here’s my attempt:

“what say you”

yes or no,
maybe maybe so
a circle
and a kiss
dreaming you will select this
anything but no.


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318 thoughts on “2012 April PAD Challenge: Day 22

  1. Jolanta.Stephens

    It’s an everyday
    As I step
    Into the spotlight
    To be scrutinised
    And judged
    Not about my skills
    Not about my vernacular
    Not about my relationships
    With each student
    But about my jewelled nose
    My inked body
    As if removing them
    Will remarkably turn
    Me into a better

  2. foodpoet

    In the time of judging
    Shell call to the night
    Music plays in
    The shadow of time and stone
    Under the circle calendar
    In the curve of the moon
    Music plays
    All rotates
    And returns to the beginning
    In the time of judging


  3. AC Leming


    blocks his view of me.
    He judges me not.
    But boyo, you sure do.

    Yeah, I laid myself down
    on that adulterous bed
    we made up together.

    I enjoyed your body
    as much as you did mine.

    So stop avoiding me
    like I have a disease
    you might catch
    just by acknowledging me.

    I smile like you don’t hurt
    to look at. Nod at your blank face.
    Curse my phone when my texts
    disappear into the ether,
    unanswered, unread.

    But we both jumped in together,
    so what gives you the right
    to give me your strong
    and silent treatment.

  4. jendorf13

    A Stranger
    He steps into the unfamiliar
    Eyes focus then avert
    Some focus persists
    Becomes strong
    Discomfort may reveal
    Prejudice, fear, distrust
    A smile brings
    An adjustment to the lens

    By Joanne Endorf
    (I originally liked this one for under the microscope)

  5. seingraham

    Judge not Lest ye be Judged*

    What of our nature compels us
    The desire to be the arbitrators
    Of all things
    Sit on high, insist on adjudication

    Perhaps not as harsh
    As King Solomon with his wise
    Wiles and sharp sword
    When his insight and assessment
    Or maybe just a lucky guess
    Knew any real mother
    would sacrifice a living baby
    rather than see
    her child cleaved
    in two

    Even so, given the opportunity
    more, not less, of us
    accept jury duty
    or so the stats attest
    Eager to sit in judgment
    of our peers
    Except in the case of death
    that is, when a person
    is on trial for murder
    There are fewer
    that wish to sit
    on those panels

    Mind you, this peculiarity
    is specific to the western
    hemisphere alone
    In fact, the North American
    continent in particular
    Given the same opportunity
    or one similar
    In most other parts of the world
    Individuals are all too happy
    To be the arbiters of death
    And not just through
    Trial and jury processes
    Often, as executioners

    It is, apparently, a cultural thing.

    *Matthew 7:1

  6. LCaramanna

    Spelling Bee Judge

    Shoulders square, serious air,
    spelling bee judge sits erect at the table,
    a certain aloofness establishes
    no personal connection with contestants.
    Eyes appraise spellers,
    glance away from the nervous twitchers
    to linger on confident contenders with courage
    to eye contact
    the spelling bee judge,
    fingers poised to ring the bell
    without hesitation,
    eliminate the contestant
    if the word is spelled wrong.

  7. po

    Judging Poems

    Writing poems
    one after another
    I am playing catch-up
    after a week of the flu
    but I keep skipping
    the judging poem
    probably because
    of my papers who
    bled to death in
    Freshman Composition,
    all because of run-on
    sentences connected
    mostly by dashes
    and commas–my
    teacher kept screaming
    “You have to know
    the rules before you
    break them”–
    bless her, but as
    you can see I’m
    a poor judge.

  8. Yolee

    Apples to Apples

    With 7 year old cleverness
    she chews over the red
    delicious and sour green
    cards, wraps up the verdict
    with a mallet made of glitter,
    lets a giggle escape between
    big and little teeth.

  9. Caren

    You don’t have to say a word;
    I can see it on your face.
    I can hear it in your voice.
    Even your body language
    Relays your condescension.
    I’ve two words for you: Bite me.

    Caren E. Salas


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