Best Jury Poems
Should I disregard
what other people think or,
balanced on the brink, maintain
a thin-veneered façade?
Where shall I store,
how shall I keep,
the poetry I must write
but cannot show--
that which smolders deep
and threatens to erupt?
Must I lock it all
securely in a box,
store it high upon a shelf
where none are wont to go?
Would it be likely to corrupt
the innocently unaware?
Should I, at least,
pretend to care?
Might not I plunge into the mob,
joining others of this ilk...
should it be my job
to preach, now the day
has finally been reached --
to walk alone in open air,
free from fear of full disclosure?
Would my revelations stir
those who taunt, who hate?
Might not their spate of hurtful words,
and worse, prompt my avoidance of
the fate they threaten,
encourage my reluctance to unmask?
And may I be moved, instead,
in surly tones, to ask
who made them my judge and jury?
I don't look at the judge. I just look at the jury.
I don't look at the defendant or the defendant's attorney,
nor will I look a the prosecution assistant and or district attorney.
I will listen, not look at anyone giving sworn oath testimony.
As a juror I feel that it's my civic responsibility and duty
to decide strictly upon the evidence and not based on any ones appearance or personality.
My Justice is as blind as justice should be
not withstanding the decision that must be made beyond a reasonable doubt
based upon the hard core physical evidence presented to me that the judge will allow.
Every time I serve as juror, which believe it or not is an honor for me
I'm always dumbfounded by many other juror's stupidity
who are compelled to render this ultimate decision, Guilty or Not Guilty.
I wouldn't want 3/4's of the jurors I've met making such life changing decisions on me.
That's why I'll never turn down an opportunity to serve on a jury.
Everyone is Innocent until proved Guilty and all innocents need a juror like me.
When I informed a former boss that I was summoned to serve for jury duty,
my employer out right said, "Get out of it or you will no longer be employed by me."
Guess what I did. I served on the jury.
I'd rather lose my job, than risk someone who may otherwise be Not Guilty
losing much of their freedom and God given liberties.
*
Another personal note:
In Every Election I Vote.
*
Red blood splashes on muddy terrain:
ambushes booby traps fatigue jackets
waiting for the enemy... 98 degrees in the sun,
encountering and returning fire; life barely there
and war’s longest refrain plays on.
There is no jury within hostile grounds,
despite patriotism caught between triggers
as shadows of night weep for freedom’s balm;
no courtroom, unlike before, to defend prisoners
of the Wall, or Mekong… their scraped turmoil
diluted over canned loaf and juice, unheard.
Young knees deep in enemy ‘s clay…
a voice ringing, “ Shoot!”, a motto of allegiance
for homeland, while the instinct to live
kicks, rams into higher gear… young soldiers
too focused to see the eye of fear.
Where is the jury within hostile ground?
Only heaven can discern a topsy-turvy
sense of man's unrighteousness...
As war’s longest refrain plays on, and on.
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John Hamilton's Upside Down World Contest
Re-posted 3/7/2017
Written 3/21/2016
Wouldn’t it be odd if she didn’t believe,
And ignored the truth that occurred,
Denied all the proof of what other folks saw,
Denied what other folks heard,
Ignoring the transcripts, not wanting to know,
Not asking the folks who were there,
Not digging a bit deeper and doing her job,
Choosing, instead, his despair,
Well, it seems odd to me, these odd looking days,
The witch hunt believes dubious lies,
This uninformed witch chasing disproven stories,
With her phone and her suit and her tie,
Leaving behind her a wasteland of barren,
Destroying a man’s life of build,
Destroying, for no reason, the years of good done,
This innocent man who she killed.
life has somewhat
calmed down now that
I’ve bowed out from the rat race
and officially finally retired
I’ve learned to disentangle myself
from the merciless mundane madness
I don’t miss that old hamster wheel
always spinning out of control
I’m now at peace with myself
I’ve become my own jury and judge
questioning my every choice and decision
to ensure they fall in place with my master plan
the voice of my conscience keeps me
aligned and on track as time trickles away
ultimately I know I’m not really in charge
but I can at least be master of what I can
one day I know I’ll be facing my Maker
and there will be no sanctioned excuses
down to my very core I’ll want to be proud
of what I’ve done and become
Read on air by invitation ~ June 5, 2021 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: 1st place 2021
Submitted on June 2, 2021 for contest VOICE OF CONSCIENCE sponsored by UNSEEKING SEEKER - RANKED 5TH
THE JURY IS OUT*
There once was a simple rhyme
that made up a jury's mind.
They gave it great thought
for a verdict they sought
as the clock in the courtroom
passed time.
They had to determine
how true the allegation
that the man really killed his wife;
or if he could go free
and go on with his life.
They listened very closely
their minds made up mostly.
But their brains the lawyer
did sway,
as they listened and then
heard him say,
"If the glove doesn't fit
you have to acquit."
and "not guilty" became the
verdict.
And that was the rhyme
that turned the jury's mind.
'Twas a shame, and a sham;
what a crime.
* The O.J. trial prompted this poem when I saw a commercial for the Johnny Cochran Law firm on TV (after Cochran died).
The minutes turn to hours
As we wait and wait and wait.
The boredom settles like a fog;
Some sleep or meditate.
I read my book and magazine
And others do the same
Or check their phones or I-Pads,
Read their mail or play a game.
A waste of time for everyone
And I don’t understand
Just why this process takes so long
When everything’s at hand.
The judge is in his chambers
And the lawyers, I assume,
But here we sit and sit and sit
Within the jury room.
The government runs things its way
With methods old and tired.
If this were private industry,
Then someone would be fired!
Sit waiting in pool,
Will I be picked for service ?
Time will tell me more..
HI IM SOPHIE
THE ONE YOU ALWAYS LAUGH AT
WHY DO YOU HATE ME
CAN YOU EVEN ANSWER THAT
YOU'D HATE ME IF I WERE GAY
YOU'D HATE ME IF STRAIGHT
YOU'D HATE IT IF I HAD A GIRLFRIEND
OR IF THE QUARTERBACK ASKED ME ON A DATE
YOU'D MOCK ME IF I WERE POOR
EVEN MORE IF I WERE RICH
I'D EITHER BE AN INDIGENT
OR A STUCK UP *****
MY BEAUTY WOULD INTIMIDATE YOU
MY FLAWS YOU WOULD FLAUNT
ONCE YOUR MEAN WORDS ARE SPOKEN
THEY DON'T DIE THEY HAUNT
REMEMBER THE THINGS YOU SAID TO ME
THE MOMENTS THAT MADE ME CRY
THE SAME WAY YOU DID
WHEN YOUR HEART WAS BROKEN BY THAT GUY
REMEMBER THE THINGS YOU DID TO ME
THAT LEFT BRUISES AND MADE ME BLEED
THE SAME WAY YOU DID
WHEN YOU FELL FROM THE PYRAMID WHILE CHEERING FOR THE TEAM
ALL THE TIMES YOU EMBARRASSED ME
MADE ME HANG MY HEAD IN SHAME
IF THEY DONT SAVE ME IN TIME
ARE YOU THE ONE TO BLAME
YOU SEE WE'RE NO DIFFERENT
YOU AND ME
EXCEPT I WAS PERSUCUTED BY A JURY OF MY PEERS
AND YOURS SET YOU FREE
a just judge thats' fair in the unjust judge's case never lost any * - * innocent that's fine twelve of your own guilty peers why would you want them - * executioner the swift hand a quick death rate a sadistic one
Though they filed in one by one and marching to the music
The decree was silence yet those devils kept marching
The Day of Judgement has been coming for a long time
Praying for solace , and waiting for the rain
Refreshing rain to wash the parade of inequity but the marching
The rain doesn’t condemn ,it renews and refreshes and remembers
Remembers the past and nurtures the future and the tide
Don’t forget the tide , it brings one in and takes it back
Those rubberneckers keep me alert for the Sun
They get inside of me waiting for me to make just one mistake
But the sun waits for me as well as does the rain but the marchers
They plod on and on but God found me free and gave me ablution
Let the bells toll, the children sing and the sun shine on all of me
If the thought doesn’t fit you must acquit
For All who suffer Depression
POEM " HER COLD BLUE SKIN " by martin gedge
A windy frozen day night sky under the grey
the falling snow so thick and slow
would cover as she lay
in waters winter freeze death whistled through the breeze
as darkness walks the shadows talk
to whisper help her please
for souls onto receive to lead her to believe
upon the knife another life
would never let her leave
and so sick and sadly true her skin was cold and blue
as spring would break the ice would wake
to see her body through
and in her grip of strand the hairs to hold her hand
would set her free as it would be
to call upon the man
and judge and jury came in a court that bares her name
a guilty rule to catch a fool
to live in silent shame
and to one to sit his cell that drowns into the well
she is the witch that flicks the switch
to watch you burn in hell...
by martin gedge ©
High school's like a jury - let us all be judged
the righteous and the wicked and especially those in love
The jury's always watching - it has a thousand eyes
it's in constant deliberation and it hears a million lies
some think there's popular immunity and that's how the system works
but celebrities are piquant targets - it's one of the systems quirks
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury - I address you here today
to plead the cause of justice, for a girl who was drugged astray
I know this girl’s not popular - she's known as "what's her name"
But the *prominent* guy who “seduced” her used methods vile and lame
I work cloud-like opinion and gossip pointedly outside stalls
I direct lunch-time chatter and I'm "overheard" in busy halls
I'm a regular Bader Ginsburg - you WANT me on your side
and If I'm coming for you - there's no fu*king place to hide
You point the accusing finger,
For infractions of the rules.
Common sense and understanding,
Oft must bow to a book of rules.
You sit in judgement of the wrong,
Hating evil doers;
Refusing explanations,
As clemencies grow fewer.
When you sit in judgement,
You accept a dreadful task;
For you drink judgement on yourself,
When you sip from that flask.
God will judge the mind and heart,
Whene'er He judges sin.
Man will judge the act alone,
He cannot see within.
So think before you judge someone,
For oft you can't say sorry.
Be certain of the circumstance,
When you are judge and jury.
By Elton Camp
“Damned if they do, damned if they don’t”
Whatever, the group must anticipate taunt
White, yellow, black or brown
Either way some of ’em will frown
“A cop got by with murder again!
Against pigs, there’s no way to win.”
“He didn’t really do a wrong thing.
It’s a mistake, charges to bring!”
When the decision is made known
Let’s hope good judgment’s shown
Imagine serving on that grand jury
Your decision’s certain to bring fury
Will any good come from this escapade?
Only more violence and division, I’m afraid