Sonnet

Let me take the splinter out of your eye.
All the time there is a plank in my own.
It’s so itchy this great plank I sigh.
Why are all these criticisms of others sown.

All day long I judge others.
And I know that I’m judged all day long.
Of course I know that judgement smothers.
Like a weary bell, dong, dong.

And then I fail to measure out.
Then complain of the amount given me.
Good deeds die in this selfish drought.
Of course I know all this is the key.

So I am useless at living this Gospel reading.
One day in another life I might have a go at succeeding.

Haiku

There is a great plank
It sits there in all our eyes
Where is the splinter