Best Forensics Poems
scraping by
picking my youth
out from under my nails
the trace remains
of an assailant or two
on the page
make sense of symmetry
when arranged
just so
***
If you lived to tell a lie about your true identity then you never lived at all.
Emotionally in the inside you might break down, your not your true self to the world.
They can't figure us out why bother given us a chance in this world, why push us off to the side when we can grow so much closer with love. They dance and sing in the sunshine without even noticing the Storm, we are broken and hurt but yet we hold on. No one lives there, the feeling was achromatic, the pain has faded away, no feeling of the family of love, jut the feeling of all the rage and anger that took place. They point and scrutinize my life, they watch me closely and eye me down, waiting on my down fall but I will not allow myself to be hammered down. Hope is everything when nothing else is around, life is full of dreamers, believers, just everyday people who trying to figure this all out. Help me to find the forensics on his case, twisted problems of life situations, we never turn our back on each other, the unforgettable touch, the first and last kiss, around and around we go. The past of mistakes, the learning process as I go, I will show my true identity to the world. Love or hate me, live to die, we all will die to this world.
Love is the beauty of all.
years of abuse add up
someone snaps
the judge gives them a prison sentence
which they serve and then get released
next thing that person knows as they try to rebuild their life
starting from the bottom
They approached you
two months after your sentence
tell you you are court ordered
for a 30 day psychiatric assessment
you dont get out for years
made to believe you are sick
witnessing nurses affairs with patience
man with a broken leg forced to walk
young girls screaming rape
the whole time knowing you are not supposed to be there
everyday another fight you can never win
finally you get away
addicted to their pills
everyday a struggle
for years keeping appointments
not understanding what is going on
You serve your sentence
then you serve another one
never knowing what judge sentenced you there
every doctor from a different country
telling you life isn't fair
Doctor's lieing to your family
about biting and kicking him
maximum security forensics
in and out of group homes for years
Then one day you quit taking your meds
tired of the side affects
and suddenly you begin waking up early
doing your laundry
eating healthy
cleaning your house
the hindsight remains
I wasn't supposed to be there
no judge sentenced me there
allah almighty answers the phone when you call amnesty international
Unable to become erect
covered in scales
twitching
foggy thinking
when you can't afford not to think clear
Go tell eminem i get it
I walked the ward for you
made to think i was sick my whole life
and then sickened by the things i went through
I stand tall; the luckiest man alive.
Knowing full well, my life's true direction;
For I'll be sure to amount to something,
Or burnout rather than fade to nothing.
Though here I stand full of ambition;
Lowly I cower within such future;
Though not quite as in severe wonderment,
As in a more extreme trepidation.
Not yet Twenty-One but ripped from youth's womb;
Thrown into the deep chasm of adulthood;
Force-fed decisions I ought not to make;
And forging a trench in life; perhaps wrong.
Fifteen; was I to know what I wanted?
Sixteen; bio-medicine and forensics.
Seventeen; teaching kid's Literature.
Eighteen; poetry and teaching English.
And what if once more my heart should change path?
Kill my ambitions? Defeat my prospects?
What if just once more I lose my true path?
What if my true path is simply to die?
How lovely, isn't
It, to have an 'off' switch, shotty wiring
And all,
And a presence lined up to ****?
They are always there
To cauterize the wounds of emotional castration
Without desire to examine
The blood pattern forensics,
Chalking the splatter up
To an affinity towards Jackson Polluck.
Tears are to the meek
As injury is to the bold,
Chastity is to pureness
As promiscuity is to curiosity.
And what
Supplemented activity relates to the character
Defect of an over-eager search for validation?
How surreal a menagerie constructed from
Syringes full of sunshine.
Currency crusted by blood in place of worth,
Hopeful scribbles of the pale and placid carrying
Small flecks of over packed bags under the eye
Can seem when sunlight filters through rose colored lenses;
How frighteningly apparent
Connect-the-dot freckles and
Spasms of the left cheek and
Teddy bear smiles and
Xylophone ribs and
Bits of skin ghosted from lips become
When refracted by a Narcissus pond—
How I m p o r t a n t,
How appropriate these sentiments:
Perfect companions for the rolled-up-carpet's journey
Of finding permanence along river bottom
Set into the silt and framed with waving algae:
A'voir, piggyback consistencies,
Meet oblivion in shreds
Blown out the back end of the skull
In the instant chapped lip worshiper meets collarbone shrine.
Such ready to leech services are no longer
A necessity
In the four hours of chemically enhanced rawness
Stuffed with bile and bruise and suck and lie
Hollowed of meaning,
Save for the proverbial cholesterol of hope clogged in pores.
But I awake in numbness,
Cold and invalid,
With my head pressed on Doubt's chest
And my fingers knotting in its own
Begging to be warm again.
I have lost all distinction between day and night
A constant absence of darkness is provided by fluorescent light
No windows available to the outside world
Living in isolation sans any modern day thrills
Four bare walls, no bars, food slipped through a slot in the door
Eating with my fingers because no telling what I would use utensils for
I still taste the blood from the ear I bit off of that inmate
I had to get out of general population no matter what it would take
Regardless of what the prosecution claims
Regardless of whom the newspaper’s headlines blame
Regardless of what the forensics might suggest
Regardless of what the jury thinks they know best
I did not kill my wife
I did not take away her life
The wound on my head that paralyzed my body
But allowed consciousness to remain and watch the act
Was not self-inflicted
As presented as fact
There is no demon inside me who carried out this deed
There is no psychosis brewing resulting in a murderous need
A monster, it is true, is required to make such a mess
But that monster was not me and I did not confess
I was covered in her blood because I held her in my lap
And gave her one last kiss good-bye
There was no emotion in my voice on the 911 call
Because with the lifeless body I held – all my emotions did die
Actually, I am better off now, in this isolated state
Where I am away from the public scrutiny and disdain
I have no reason to want to continue to live
I just know in the future someone else soon – will realize my pain
The monster is still out there
And he will strike again
The look in his eyes showed too much joy
But no one cares to believe in me
It is easier this way
Until his modus operandi once again is employed
Six Words with Fulfilment
Am glad God made me, me.
Second Six,
Though I am a terrible singer.
Third Six:
Ra Fa So La Ti Do
Third six:
You Can also add another do
Forth Six
Have you ever heard of forensics?
Jmaes Theserious Hilerious Honr
When I'm through with this vessel, this is what I wish to have done.
First, any useful organs of mine must be removed and given to anyone
who may need them to enhance their life or maybe to extend their present one.
Once the above has been honored, this is now what I wish to have done.
The remainder of my remains are to be given to the science of medicine.
Perhaps its study will serve some use in saving the life of someone.
I've come to learn though that with any case of cancer no organ donations can be given
nor can those possibly infected with HIV or any other harmful contagion.
Science also can't use these cadavers either. I'm not really quite sure of their reason.
So if the above does apply when yours truly does die,
my wishes are to be applied in the following fashion.
My remains are to be given to what is known as a "Death Farm."
They might use my remains to be locked in the trunk of a car,
exposed to soaring temperature in the hot summer sun
and/or to sub zero temperatures once winter has begun.
The data from my remains will greatly help the science of forensics
and may serve helpless victims who may have died like this to their final form of justice,
possibly resulting in the conviction of they who disposed of their victims this way.
If I can bring Justice to these unfortunate people,
I'd be honored for the small role that I'd play,
but if by chance the death farms don't want me, then this is what I wish to have done.
Dump my earthly remains on Africa's Savannah plains,
perhaps it might provide the starving wildlife there some very needed nutrition.
If I haven't left behind enough cash for such an expensive depart
then do what you want. Follow your heart.
It doesn't matter anymore. This vessel and I are now through.
What to do with it now is all up to you,...
...and I apologize for laying that responsibility all on you.
Urgent Surgery, A C-Section in three seconds
Look lady!
I'm trying to save you and the baby
Nurse Fox prepare the Incision sit
Nurse D please hand me a scalple
To save the Mother
Science says its impossible
And I'll be lucky
To make it out the room alive
Whoosh! They rush past me
There goes the team and staff
Now it's just me
And I aint even a freaking Doctor
And inside these reactions
Creations are made in high rates of radiation
And inside my mind there is a Chemical Lab
It unfolds and rolls out straight
Now Lady Luck sit up you aint even pregnant yet
Now there you go
I speak the word... Poof! theres you a wishing well
I pull the lever down now
It's amazing! ain't it lovely how your wishes fell
And a kiss?
Yea on the cheek and not the lips
That always makes you naughty girls go crazy!
I'm like it's daytime
So lets take away the Nightmares
It's the same day
It's okay, you can hold my hand
Now I'm there in the nights
The knight that fights inside your dreams
And don't ask me why
These lights they just twirl into red and green
And when I say blue
I'm accomindating you by making changes
A snowflake Falls on the same site
where we just had basketball size hail
And another casket goes into the ground
No more suffering!
Another one of my brothers just fell
Zip the body bag up
I ain't got nothing on my team but a bunch of ignorant fools
And when I drop it's like a star goin off into a supernova
I toss em and they land into a pile of schizophrenics
And now these Two nurses Know
Ceratintly Life is taken serious
Together we're a Dream Team
Piss on some forensics
Cuase I cut you a slice
2 times Twice the psychic
I can take you to the body
But your furture use of me is undecided
Accepting aloneness, incomplete solitude, imperfect rest. The garden
wasted, pumpkin patch planted late, potatoes untasted left in ground.
A thousand email addresses, each unique represents a flame of
passion, compassion, desperation or depression. To understand, to know's
impossible. It is therefore only reasonable to observe the shadows
on the mountain, the actions of the dreamer which tell us something,
little, nothing of his dream. It's a simple secret shared,
longevity. The half breed John Russell says it right, the
date and place don't matter, dry desert or cold mountainside,
lush bottomland, soulless or hospitable, contagious hospital.
The best laugh's death's, a perfect escape, perfect error, perfect
rest. Their solicitude's unnecessary, grief is temporary, life goes on,
you go under, underemployed, the undertaker's never unemployed.
Forensics prove an ovary with two chambers, ovule adnate to the funicle.
What I want to be is content
Satisfied
Pleased with my life
Looking at myself
I've lost self love
I've lost self assurance
I've lost self actualization
I've lost me
In this deadly process
I've been searching
Like forensics teams on missing person's
For a purpose
I'm starting to lose focus
Envy starts arising
Plentiful opportunities to hurt
Yet the only blood that drops
Is from my own skin
Losing
It's evident
That i'm draining
Not understanding the path
That has been chosen
I can't find joy in the best things
I simply poke needles until they inflate
That's just my state
Love is in the air
I'm starting to feel a lil *****
Cause nobody is ever there
Everybody else gets their someone
Alone. I lose more blood.
My heart beat stops
I'm draining away
A man disappears where abouts unknown
Not at his work not at his home
Days pass as a passer by finds
His right leg in a country wind
Days later his left arm in a ditch
All is quiet, enquiries have hit a hitch
News comes in of a Torso being found
Beside the river on common waste ground
What posses a person to maim this way
As every dog has its day
Policing, forensics in this modern age
Will endeavour to capture this killer of rage
But what do we do when we capture them
Send them to prison as they live like men
A lethal injection, a fair way to put them down
To cleanse rightfully our cities and towns
Through out the world many families have suffered
These crimes of killers and sadistic cowards
We are taxed for our efforts in life as we work
They may never get out, but living is their perk.
An afterlife awaits a star
on having bid its au revoir
in supernova’s days of yore,
with remnant of collapsing core
impressionistic as Renoir.
The cosmos leaves the door ajar
for astral evolution far
with pulsar winds wherefrom outpour
an afterlife.
In vast sidereal memoir,
through brilliant stellar repertoire,
midst universe’s evermore
with skies our astro-eyes explore,
from starry stuff we humans are
an afterlife.
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
“We are made of stellar ash. Our origin and evolution have been tied to distant cosmic events. The exploration of the cosmos is a voyage of self-discovery.”
~ Carl Sagan, Cosmos
The poem is a rondeau ~ a short poem of fixed form, consisting of 13 lines (plus the phrase twice) on two rhymes and having the opening words or phrase used in two places as an unrhymed refrain.
Inspiration for poem from article and image ~ G292.0+1.8: Stellar Forensics with Striking Image from Chandra
Explanation from Chandra ~ This supernova remnant shows us just how complex a star’s afterlife can be! About 20,000 light years from Earth, G292.0+1.8 contains a pulsar left behind after the death of a massive star, as well as other features that give scientists insight into supernova remnant evolution.
all congressmen asked
the forensics team to view
their hard-drive data
Forensic science fascinates me
in a curiously, unnatural way.
I cannot get enough of it.
The blood droplets, the hair follicle,
the fingernail that proved someone was
where they were not supposed to be.
Sometimes wondering why this has such an
all encompassing overwhelming hold
on me, I think it is the brilliance behind
the scenes that has amazed and intrigued
me into watching every forensic TV show
I can get my eyes on.
That and the fact that these people have
gone to such great lengths to help solve crimes.
I think it is their expertise and genius that has kept
me fully engaged and enthralled.