Best Attorneys Poems


The Swains

THE SWAINS

Under cumulus clouds, grew cauliflowers.
He planted them with love because I adorn them when they were harvested to the table of healthy man, my husband; sons; and brothers.
All were vegetable farmers of California.
We woman loved cooking for them.
They say there never was a better meal than this one every time we cooked.
That was each day of the yield.
Spirits were high as hell.
The profits were insurmountable.
They increased each year.
The sunshine brightly and this eased our fears.
We became wealthy and retired well.
Our children went off into the world.
Both sons became Attorneys of Law.
_____________________________|
Penned on October 30, 2014!
Categories: attorneys, appreciation, farm, good morning,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Hi Storm

In mania, the body unbinds itself.
The skeleton’s dense marrow becomes hollow,
an avian adjustment. It is accelerated evolution.
Fluttering and floating in a slew of thoughts
like nervous wind chime chatter.

My brother blew in through the rattling gate
accompanied by October’s cruelest gale.
Eyes unwillingly wide, levered by a crowbar
his hazel doorways ripped from their hinges.

He ran fervently through the streets of West Chester
with lungs coated with cannabis and amphetamines
until there was blood beneath his toenails, dripping out
just like Jesus’ wine weeping out from his searing limbs.

As he entered into the home of our distant childhood,
his back burned from the warm wrath of penitent leather
the self-flagellation, the begging for the flames of Purgatory
To appease the eyes of a looming Lord
his fate-sealing gaze hidden in twilight’s comforting veil

He says he holds a guilt beyond human comprehension,
that he is an evil person. I tell him we are just flawed people.
After a decade of intentful detachment, my brother cracks open
his ribcage as it blooms like a flower from his sternum.
He says there is a sickness in his soul, and that I will
never truly know him.

My mother and father have had heads made of granite
since he has come home. There are heavy eyes shadowed with
bags made of storm clouds. They have prayed with their
clergy. They have contacted multiple attorneys.

My sibling is a storm that has wrought ruin, but
he can heal. His violent storm might sow a beautiful season
The warmth of his first real smile will bring upon renaissance,
and as the tears and snot seep into the soil of my shoulder
our cheeks may grow a vibrant emerald moss.
Categories: attorneys, brother, drug, forgiveness, hope,
Form: Free verse

Spammer Smackdown

IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA 
BASE FORTHWITH.
ALSO, ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS, 
SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS, 
WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, 	SHRINKS, COLONEL 
CLINKS, BOSSES, CO-WORKERS, EMPLOYEES,VENDORS, SUPPLIERS, 
SALESMEN, ACCOUNT REPS/EXCS, ACCOUNTANTS, BROKERS, CO-BROKERS, 
HACKERS, SLACKERS, WHACKERS, JERKS, SOLICITORS, SIDEKICKS, 
COHORTS, WINGMEN, WHEELMEN, LOOKOUTS, OUTLAWS, IN-LAWS, 
RELATIVES, FIANCES, BOYFRIENDS, GIRLFRIENDS, FRIENDS, FOES, 
ENEMIES, EVIL NEMESIS’, DERELICTS, DEGENERATES, DOPERS, DEALERS, 
TWEEKERS, GAMBLERS, RAMBLERS, CANVASSERS, INQUIRERS, QUEERS, 
QUEENS, COWBOYS, KINGS, FAGS, DRAGS, HAGS, HETEROS, HOMOS, TONY 
ROMOS, FEMALE IMPERSONATORS, [PRE OR POST] MALE IMPERSONATORS, 
DICKS, DYKES, VAN DYKES, DICK VAN DYKE, LESBIANS, LONGSHOREMEN, 
SHORTSHOREMEN, LIARS, BUYERS, CRYERS, CIGAR SMOKERS, CARPET 
MUNCHERS, RUG RATS, TODDLERS, TEENAGERS, JUVENILE DILINQUENTS, 
SENIORS, SUCKERS, TRUCKERS, MOTHER shut yer mouth, LAW MAKERS, 
LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, JUDGES, POLITICIANS, LEADERS, FOLLOWERS, 
DISCIPLES, PROPHETS, EVANGELISTS, SAVIORS, SINNERS, SAINTS, 
SOOTHSAYERS, MEDICENE MEN, GYPSYS, TRAMPS, AND THIEVES, WITCHES, 
WARLOCKS, VAMPIRES, LYCANS, ZOMBIES, WAR MONGERS, PROTESTERS, 
VIGILANTES, VICTIMS, SOLIDERS, GENERALS, GOVERNORS, PRESIDENTS, 
PATRIOTS, PACKERS, LIONS, BEARS, BROWNS, BLACKHAWKS, REDWINGS, 
RIGHT WING, LIBERALS OR LAW BIDING CITIZENS. THEY ARE NOT TO 
CONTACT ME AND LOOSE MY NUMBERS.

BUT, IF YOU SEE MY MOM, TELL HER TO CALL ME.



                                               BA-ZING!
                                                     ?
Categories: attorneys, bullying, computer, internet, rude,
Form:

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


A Truck Driver

I am a truck driver,
A profession by choice.
Behind the wheel,
That's my voice.
Left the factory,
Not hidden by walls.
Run my loads wherever they call.
Dispatchers think,
We are some kind of superman,
When in reality,
We just do what we can.
We're looked down on,
Called all kinds of names.
Not recognized as humans,
Like on some deserted plain.
We have a heart,
We have a soul.
Not all are angry,
Not all are cruel.
We are tagged as killers,
By some attorneys at law,
They just want money,
They don't care at all.
No teachings in class,
No information supplied,
To what these rigs can do,
If one of us and a car collide.
I'm here to tell you,
I have a heart a mile wide,
I care about people,
My feelings I don't hide.
Treat me with shame,
Treat me like I am lower than you,
Just remember,You have to answer to God to.
Categories: attorneys, career, humanity, hurt, judgement,
Form: Rhyme

Poetic Justice - Part 1

When stretched forever is my day                   
I while the empty hours away                          
in courtrooms dank with men of silk                
proud and tall                                     
lawmakers all                                                
step lightly lest you meet their ilk            

Attorneys and stenographers                                  
lawyers and interpreters                                 
each word they spake is tongue-in-cheek;        
lear-ned judges, advocates                            
prosecutors, barristers                                  
spew Latin which could well be Greek             

The courtroom's packed
the gallery stacked
the charge is one of pilfering
the bookie sets
last-minute bets:
"10 to 1 his head will swing."

From the ord'ly
fing'ring his rosary:
"Court's in session!  Silence!  Zip it!"
His Lordship enters
sans his dentures
sucks his thumb and looks decrepit

Eyes his gavel
sneers: "You're evil!
my thumb is swollen and beet-red
you'll be detained
when next again
I miss and hit my thumb instead.

"The weather vane
predicted rain
today I'll suffer agony
you caveman's hammer
how did you
till now escape technology?"

To put it mild,
the crowd goes wild
but for the shifty-eyed accused
Judge Weatherstorm
stays true to form:
he keeps his audience amused

Th' accused meanwhile
with comely smile
winks at M'Lord to cut him slack
he'll cop a plea
of not guilty
tho' evidence against him's stacked

The star witness
non compos mentis
brain well-addled by Alzheimer's
mounts the stand
bows to his fans
with clenched fist vows the truth to utter ...

(PART 2 TO FOLLOW)
 
28.04.2011

(This is a work of fiction in its entirety and merely a satirical look at our corrupt
justice system.)
Categories: attorneys, funny
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Attorneys and Online Games

Was at a hearing with my attorney
She was more childish than Bert and Ernie
     Played I-Pod video games
     My anger sure was in flames
Years had passed since I began this journey

But my sexual harassment lawsuit
Totally ignored by this pompous coot
     Ordering shoes online
     Forgetting this case of mine
It was clear she just didn’t give a hoot

My suit’s outcome would have been much better
If I had hired an Irish Setter
     Her actions were criminal
     My settlement minimal
In my next novel I’ll surely get her

She had predicted I would get much more
My dignity she never did restore
     As she won her online game
     My harasser escaped blame
Lawyers and video games I abhor



*Based on a true experience!
Entry for Natalie’s “Cell Phones in the Sauna – What Annoys You” contest
Categories: attorneys, angst
Form: Limerick


Premium Member To Care, and Sex, Givers and Receivers

I hope we all at least aspire to become adept caregivers and receivers,
as these two directions seem to be nondualist,
mutually symbiotic;
to give care is neither better nor worse than to receive,
as optimal healthy care giving is also receiving--
these interactions mutually feed and enrich each other.
We call this healthy and growing love.

The best care giving comes out of love and nurturance,
not merely the exterior forms of ego discipline,
the ego-control of negative emotions and thoughts.
Love sublimates negativity,
often with humor at our own ecoconsciously mindful deep learning expense,
co-investment,
looking even deeper at this relationship in this time,
and learning to share this Basic Attendance
in a nondual spirit of co-mentorship.

Put another more therapeutic way,
health care professional training has invested in attorneys
and insurance bottom-line profit-seeking,
risk-management corporations,
to articulate how to defend oneself,
one's practice,
one's relationships,
from inappropriate touch and language and aggressive behavior.

This is not a bad thing in our WinLose ecopolitical economy,
but it is the less compelling side of our WinWin opportunity-optimization potential
for both caregiving and receiving
which is all about how to therapeutically touch and speak 
and derive maturing empathic consciousness.

Both strict conservatives and progress-nurturers can agree
that our GoldenRule caregiving-receiving journey
within this health v pathology Earth climate,
through both internal and external landscapes of ecotherapeutic touch and language,
is how we further evolve together
toward optimizing WinWin health,
regenerative caregiving-receiving,
communicating with hands and feet and mouth from within mutually cooperative empathic trust.

As this conversion occurs and re-occurs and concurs,
then life becomes all about WinWin optimizing appropriate touch.
Too long enduring issues of  inappropriate touch
become artifacts of a prior benighted millennium,
a former age and stage and life,
our progress-conserving  regenerate Elders would not wish stuck upon us
or our great-grandchildren of all Earth's species.
Categories: attorneys, caregiving, culture, health, humanity,
Form: Political Verse

Homeless On Mulberry Street

As I walked down Mulberry Street, my pack and the shoes on my feet.
I see a nickel, penny a dime an empty bottle of wine.
Fletcher the old drunk, smelling a bit of a skunk still I smile and wave.
Punks have placed Graffiti on a wall, claiming ownership of this urban sprawl.

I stop for a bit and have a quaint sit on the remnants of a flower box.
I light my last smoke, watch some odd folk, they walk to the beat of their drum.
Exhaling the sweet mist of nicotine addiction, happy this is my only vice.
A dandelion grows through a crack screaming for me to take poetic note.

A Mercedes parked in front of the attorneys office, ill gotten gains.
Trash blown into the inner recess of the arched doorway in which I sit.
A drug store receipt a note perhaps a declaration of love or don't forget the milk.
The cast iron manhole cover states proudly, Made in Chicago.

Ahead lies the Mulberry Street Mission a line already forms.
Where dinner and biblical mumbo jumbo are being served.
The old woman greets everyone with a smile and tells them Jesus loves you.
I'll wait until she goes inside I don't want to argue.

The wind blows and sunshine falls on my face.
I notice out of the corner of my eye a normal folk (Non-Homeless).
Taking their own cigarette break enjoying the same sweet addiction as myself.
Our eyes meet in acknowledgement of we are the same, for the moment.

The Mulberry Street bus rambles by spewing noxious fumes.
The city's wind artwork slowly turns hoping someone will take notice.
My last long draw on my cigarette, I grab my pack and pull myself up.
then One foot Two foot I resume my journey to the Mulberry Street Mission.


(In Memory of Fletcher Campbell 1940-2015)
© RC Arts  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: attorneys, addiction, adventure, crazy, destiny,
Form: Dramatic Monologue

Premium Member Saturday Night

It's another Saturday night
ending this week
as started
alone again.

I came here
almost two years ago
to my retirement hermitage
but oddly,
and often uncomfortably,
shared with my hurt kids,
mental and physical illness
adopted and then adapted;
an asylum for the perpetually incontinent.

Cars pass by.
Sometimes a loud motorcycle
or two or three or four
or even more
here on the southern boundary
of a county seat
in a State
where rural counties
have been disenfranchised
of political purpose.

Our largest employers
are two tribally owned casinos.
One across the Thames River
flowing past our backyard retreat.

Our second largest income producer
may be the County Courthouse
where attorneys and police
collude to extort voluntary donations
from poor young adults
red and yellow,
black and white,
guilty of speeding
and texting
and smoking medicine
without a license
in Great White Father's sight.

I have been listening and watching
for what this half acre is.
We are not as rural as I had hoped,
with State highway 12 too near my front yard,
but this place is also not urban
or suburban.

What it is not,
whom we are not,
seems more clearly articulated
than any positive definition,
refining our becoming quiet place,
alone together,
shunned by healthier neighbors.

It's another lonely ending
anticipating yet another not new beginning
tomorrows stretching out alone
long retiring shadows
on this southern edge
of a Connecticut County Seat
without apparent purpose
or co-defining meaning.
Categories: attorneys, age, health, loneliness, meaningful,
Form: Prose Poetry

Fifty-Two Plus One Hike Hypocrisy Part 3

People of the blue hill arrowhead new inroads  settled the plum-rock if they would have known the thirteen crystal skulls would sing of disease prayer towns taken for granite People's Republic  Taxachusett old colony pilgrim bay Make It Yours; The Spirit of America By the sword we seek peace, but peace only under liberty                                                Large waters people of the three fires living in peace the Cadillac’s bristling hairs of fur trade stir the fox seven years of war and more expanding breaking treatise Out of many, one I will defend everyone wants the land  great lake wolverine mitten Winter Water Wonderland World's Motor Capital  America's High Five Great Lakes,                              Great Times; More To See  If you seek a pleasant peninsula, look about you                    Land of rolling cloudy water dropping milk into water friends of the free people forced into smaller lands where crop failure a winters starvation red tape no credit for food                  If they're hungry, let them eat grass friends at war over three hundred warriors                No attorneys or witness were allowed as a defense for the accused, and many were convicted in less than five minutes but Sheridan's, Custer’s and Baker’s plan                   was a dawn attack on a village in heavy snow, when most of the Indians would be sleeping or huddling inside to keep warm. It was a strategy he had employed before Explore Land of 10,000 Lakes Bread and Butter north Vikings north star Sky-Blue Waters                        *                                                                                     These called rebels heathen from underground before they had a flag forced to walk the trail of tears to be the red men from a land the government never paid then there is the slaves when cotton was king the Free people of color children of European men and enslaved women but half the population were slaves until KKK’s burning cross waving  the guerrilla war flag calling it "the White Man’s Flag" as well as stating:“ As a people we are fighting to maintain the Heaven-ordained supremacy of the white man over the inferior or colored race; a white flag would thus be emblematical of our cause. ”  Birthplace of America's Music magnolia bull bay the hospitality Feels Like Coming Home; The South's Warmest Welcome
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: attorneys, america, betrayal, black african
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Whatever Happened To All Those Cab Drivers With Phd's

Whatever happened to all those cab drivers 
  in Madison, Wisconsin with PhD's back in the 1970's?

How are all the college kids doing who cut off a finger or toe
  in order to avoid get drafted for the War in Vietnam?

How many domestic terrorists with blood on their hands
  are leading respectable lives with forged identities? 
    Bernadine Dohrn, 'College Professor' - ex-Leader of 
      the 'Weather Underground'... Do you sleep at night?

Whatever became of all those long-hairs in the pictures
  at Woodstock Music Festival in New York in 1969?

How about all those backpackers searching for Truth, who dived
  deep into cults like Hari Krishna and the Moonies?
    Wuddya say, Ginni Thomas?

Where have all the flowers gone? ... They've gone the way of
  ANTIFA, of BLM, of Seattle, WA, of Portland, OR, of all the
   'Sanctuary Cities' and George-Soros backed Prosecuting Attorneys
     who refuse to prosecute, of CRT, of the 1619 Project, of endless
      COVID lockdowns, of 'The Squad' and of 'wokeness'

But if you ask me, if America could survive the Cuban Missile Crisis,
Castro, Mao, Watergate, Sadam Hussein, Monica Lewinsky, Bin-Laden, 
9/11, the Dotcom Bust, the ENRON and Arthur Anderson scandals, 
the Great Recession, the Real Estate bubble, and Donald Trump and 
Hilary Clinton, then I guess we can survive about anything
Categories: attorneys, america, history, nostalgia, pain,
Form: Free verse

Mlk From Wikepedia Article(Http://En.Wikipedia.Org/Wiki/Birmingham_Campaign)

MLK recruited teens to march in demonstrations in Birmingham, AL. Due to ADULTS 
would not be influenced to march by his speeches. Fire Water hoses were turned on 
the disobedient teens at a high power that rolled them down streets and over cars, 
tore their shirts off,  while MLK Jr sat safe in jail, writing letters.

Twenty-four hours after his arrest, King was allowed to see local attorneys from the 
SCLC. When Coretta Scott King did not hear from her husband, she called Walker, 
and he suggested that she call President Kennedy directly.[48] Mrs. King was 
recuperating at home after the birth of their fourth child when she received a call 
from President Kennedy the Monday after the arrest. The president told her she could 
expect a call from her husband soon. When Martin Luther King called his wife, their 
conversation was brief and guarded; he correctly assumed that his phones were 
tapped.[49] Several days later, Jacqueline Kennedy called Coretta Scott King to 
express her concern for King while he was incarcerated.[18]

While in jail on April 16, King released his "Letter from Birmingham Jail", written on 
the margins of a newspaper, scraps of paper given to him by a janitor, and later a 
legal pad given by his SCLC attorneys. The letter responded to eight politically 
moderate white clergymen who accused King of agitating local residents, and not 
giving the incoming mayor a chance to make any changes. Bass suggested 
that "Letter from Birmingham Jail" was pre-planned, as was every move King and his 
associates made in Birmingham. The essay was a culmination of many of King's 
ideas, which he had touched on in earlier writings.[50] King's arrest attracted 
national attention, including that of corporate officers of retail chains with stores in 
downtown Birmingham. 

(I got his info. from wikepedia) I was not born until after his life ended--so I really 
did not know anything about MLK Jr.. I thought this was interesting, his wife and 
children were home.  Others put themselves in danger for the cause.
Categories: attorneys, black african american, historymarch,
Form:

Too Crowded, Crawdad

And so, the homeless have a stake
somehow, the Lord of angels states
to do it unto me ~ my sake
offensiveness I can remake!

A tone, a gesture of impede
a beating by a Mayor's heed
"out of my town", he intercedes
old Crawdad crowded this guy's speed!

Why not impair the lonely soul
or bring to justice, Cops don't know,
they hide the facts, incite control
old Crawdad, able, got to go!

Attorneys, Sheriff, all relate
to ceremonies for their sake,
but when the unknown need a break
it's who gets His, not a fair shake!

Old Crawdad bleeding on the rug
the Mayor shouting "one more tug,
I better quit, my tavern's crowd
might hear my voice, you know I'm proud!"

The Council hushing up the strain
Their tourist season must have gain
without the "bucks" we can't contain
our lifestyle, qualities terrain!

Well, Cop does hinder, warns the town
this can't get out, we'll look like clowns
he was encouraged, Council's row
to make it less, just so and so!

It's sickening, they all shut up
the way they whisper, eyes dropped thin,
no food for Crawdad, housing, stuff
run out of town, that's all of him!

So large or small, vestige the same
keep flowers showing, hide the pain
that flaw of justice must remain
it's whose on first, belittled feign!

Stories not over, Mayor Cain
and Able Crawdad, called the game
he sued the Mayor, lose his shirt
goodies in numbers, stores, the roof!

Not that asunder means get tough
equal's not undermining's bluff,
No Crowded Crawdad, own the town
Homeless have voice ~ their own renown!



Little town Mayor beats up a homeless man in Laundromat and leaves him
bleeding on rug, he goes to Cop, takes report, nothing is done.  You see the
Mayor hires your Cop, and had you noticed the coalition here!  It's happening
everywhere!  Say something!  We are not all wandering, homeless!
Categories: attorneys, abuse, community, discrimination,
Form: Monorhyme

Premium Member Trilogy of Nonviolence Advocates Rev King Jr Attys Mandela and Gandhi!

The "Trilogy of Non-Violence" advocates peacefully uplift humanity
Humanity is to behold a peaceful way of overcoming the struggle of life.
Life, where all souls are valuable and with love are diminishing hate
Hate! Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. states, "Driven out by the light."
 
Light of the world for humanity to see shining bright, eliminating darkness
Darkness, which Attorney Nelson Mandela survived in gloomy dungeons.
Dungeon of despair, trying to rent his humility, spirit, and soul without relent
Relent, he withstood, overcame with God's grace, seeking peace, not revenge!
 
Revenge develops turmoil in humanity's mind and soul—"So agonizing!"
Agonizing the spirit to do ill will toward others without peace—Violence!
Violence Attorney Mahama Gandhi pronounced is inferior to non-violence
Non-violence is strength emanating from an indomitable will of humanity.
 
Humanity diligently erased images of the beast, displaying its ugly appearance,
Rev. Dr. King, Jr. Attorneys Mandela and Gandhi defeating such ugliness!
Categories: attorneys, beauty, courage, hate, humanity,
Form: Other

Quick Cuts 1 ,2, 3,

Physicians
magicians 
who work wonders with a pill.
They diagnose,
prescribe the dose,
and then you get the bill.

Attorneys
journey
to the law books for a clue.
to file a brief
or sue for grief,
but it's legalese to you.

Mechanics
don't panic
when the car chugs in the bay.
They take their time
to wipe the grime.
" It won't be done today."
Categories: attorneys, funny, on work and
Form: Epigram
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