A just end to a self-appointed judge? A poem for you to critique?

High atop the mountain peaks

- a panoramic view -

quick to judge when someone speaks,

so who appointed you?

Smug and pompous, think you're right

on ev'ry subject going.

At a whim you flex your 'might',

think that you're all-knowing.

Isolated long ago

high above the masses,

looking down on us below,

we, the 'lower classes'.

You've forgotten human touch

and your sight's been blinded.

You have missed out on so much,

you're so narrow-minded.

We shall no longer bow -

you speak for no one now.

Did someone request verse? Is that the only qualification for poetry?

Perhaps we should be posting more limericks.

A definition of poetry:

"writing that formulates a concentrated imaginative awareness of experience in language chosen and arranged to create a specific emotional response through meaning, sound, and rhythm"

A definition of verse:

"(1): metrical language (2): metrical writing distinguished from poetry especially by its lower level of intensity"

You know I'm not a 'gusher', Ma. This is not the best poem I've

ever seen, but it presents imagery and makes a point in a concise

and poetic manner. Someone may be taking the subject matter

personally, in a sociopathic sort of way. There seems to be an

outbreak of thumb trolls today.

Well, not to disappoint, here's some verse:

"It puts the lotion on its skin

Or else it gets the hose again."

--from 'Silence of the Lambs'

.

I absolutely understand Buk. It is also hard for people to get a poem in the singular when it could also apply to a number of people the writer or reader has encountered on this ride.

Bravo Ma!

What people never understand about this kind of poetry is the fact that you probably do not still feel this direct anger at the very time they are reading it.

We designate people by their poetry in too general of terms.

This is a terrific poem.

Beautiful. Reminds of these lyrics from the song "Weight of the world" by Saliva. "Going through this life on my own made me cold as a stone; I'm a ship going

under."

Those judges got into me, made me stop posting my words. I thought those who appointed themselves on top would guide me climbing through shorter paths and less ridged terrain.Should I finish? The rest of the story is well known.

Nice piece, ma!

This made me think of that old song "High On a Mountain of Love." I will never understand turning from love and friendship rather than embrace it.

The power of the pen, good one.

Assume-rs assuming answers. LOL

and the self righteous never see themselves,

as others do. Weed-ends seem to grow more weeds.

This is how I felt when I wrote

to God asking him to pop on

down and Speak for himself.

Direct dialogue is the

only answer.

tosser makes me want to toss my cookies. Is it any wonder I seldom come to YA any more. I like your poem ma, it reminds me of the Gods on mount olympus playing with the lives of mortals.