Best Wrongful Poems
Sweetened dung is shoveled down
gluttonous throats with eager appetites for
alleged misdeeds skillfully spun
into a frenzy of sensationalized hype
by media-seasoned reporters.
.
Seduced by speculation and hearsay,
a jury of pseudo-intellectuals assembles
neatly with moral turpitude tied
smug and tight around rigid white collars
stained heavy with sweat and anticipation.
She stands alone as the eyes of
the court pierce through her appraising
her posture and expression while
the echo of charges being read dissipates
with the smell of type ink and old mahogany.
Fragments of truth embellished
for shock-value and dramatic effect
spill forth as vomit
from confessional mouths
reeking of rot and fermentation.
Vulturous prosecutors rise in fluid
motion squawking accusations in
expert execution of closing arguments,
pecking apart flesh, unconscionably
scattering the meaty bones of her defense.
a screaming man
is led away to a cell - -
his twin smirks
for Susan’s Wrongful Imprisonment contest
wickedness whirled, when
women worshipping witches
witnessed witchcrafts- will
A jogger was raped
in central park years ago
some youths were accused
And with no DNA evidence
they were wrongly imprisoned
Kevin Richards was
among those convicted for this
crime, spending years in
prison ,but was later freed
when they caught the real rapist
I did'nt deserve to watch my mom break down over nerves
I did'nt deserve for nightly my dads sleep to be disturbed
I did'nt deserve for life to be the judge and jury's words
I did'nt deserve prison on this plate that I've been served
I never thought My kids would see me through this plated glass
I never thought my time would seep bye like a hourglass
I never thought I'd cry like I'd been hit with some teargas
I never thought I'd be the one the world would just bypass
I should have been forgiven but my innocense was shamed
I should have started running but I wasnt to be blamed
I should have saw it coming how could I be so defamed
I should have trusted no one but now I just sit here framed
I will not lose my sanity In the Lord I'll trust
I will not be a casualty to this I must adjust
I will not scorn humanity but for their air I lust
I will not let this tragedy give me a stone like crust.
Sha'ntez Jefferson
10/20/12
"Our lives are not our own. We are bound to others, past and present, and by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future." - David Mitchell's character Sonmi 451
A slave was Somni 4 5 1 to corporate society.
She worked long hours and had no fun.
Denied to see the light of sun
and engineered genetically,
a slave was Somni 4 5 1 to corporate society.
Of joy to come, she once had dreamed,
but truth would set fair Somni free.
Her fate was not what she had deemed;
of joy to come, she once had dreamed
until the light of knowledge gleamed
on her! A martyr she would be.
Of joy to come, she once had dreamed
but truth would set fair Somni free.
(oops, I thought I could do 16 lines, not under 14, so
the first poem is not truly a triolet, but a shortened version of one.)
Inspired by the 5th story inside the movie Cloud Atlas: An Orison of Sonmi~451
For the contest of Black Eyed Susan: Wrongful Imprisonment or Sentenced
Here I live in darkness
Dreadful fright and fear
Kept from all my fam'ly
And friends that once were near
Why am I imprisoned
What has been my wrong?
Why this dreadful sorrow
Instead of happy song?
Naught has been my trespass
Innocent am I
Robbed of all life's goodness
Condemned in jail to die
She barged through the doors of the bank with her gun
And shot the security guard just for fun
She fired her gun and yelled “Down on the floor,
I’ve shot me one man, I could shoot a few more!”
One customer, Jenna, said, “Hold up, you cretin,
You half witted loser, it’s jail you’ll be gettin,
You charge in this bank with that soppy old pistol
I think I might kick your ass from here to Bristol.”
The robber, fired two bullets into the ceiling
And said, “I shall shoot anybody not kneeling.”
Jenna said, “I’m gonna laugh as you fry.”
The robber said, “You’d better reach for the sky.”
Armed police turned up; one lady arrested
Based on the ‘facts’ that another attested
The robber’s at home playing video games
And Jenna’s in jail for calling her names
And all the police wonder what to expect
Now that they’ve lost any public respect
At lunch break they wonder how low they could stoop
When they’re as inviting as watered down soup.
[What a coincidence; a poem about someone called Jenna enduring an injustice. Pure chance… honest, Guvnor!]
The woman was crossing at
the Manhattan corner of
Jackson Street and Madison Avenue
when she died.
Her son sued the bus driver
and the City of New York
for running her over;
negligence and
wrongful death.
.
No one saw the woman
until her body was found
on the roadway
thirty five feet from the crossing.
Here's how the experts saw it.
.
The woman was first
knocked to the ground by the bus,
then rolled under the bus' dark body
until she was killed by the right
rear wheel.
The experts said she must have
tried to block the tire by raising her
arm over her face.
.
The court found in favor of the plaintiff,
granting seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars
as the value for
a few microseconds of
"fearing impending death."
Never thinking about my actions
Not caring about what others think
shrug my shoulders being my first reaction
others say my attitude stinks
of course i dont care
I owe no one nothing
I have not a smile to share
but I can tell you something
a small secret
you must promise not to tell
in your mind you should always keep it
Somewhere in life i stumbled and fell
then my vibe came off all wrong
cause i really do care
even though i always feel like i never belong
in my heart there is a little tear
just needs a little tape
someone to show me love
not a soul around me that is fake
the best person being the man above.....
They filed his blood beneath a numbered case—
the marrow went to war without a call.
The VA counted cells, not what took place
in basements where his stare could split the wall.
The cancer knew his secrets—mutiny
against Guam’s humid silence, its red debt
claimed as the twenty-one guns thoomed in key.
We stood. We nodded. No one cried. Not yet.
There’s money now, for toxin’s wrongful death,
Agent Orange crusading through his bones.
But not for years of learning that a breath
is held—not for the legacy of tones.
They pay for what his blood became, not how
it taught us all to disappear. Lie down.
You can feel
the rush
down to
your toes
when the cop
in your rearview
hits the party lights
and your trunk
is loaded
with bad news.
In 1955,in Lincoln,Nebraska,John E.Reid hepled
gain a confession from a suspect,darrel parker,
for parker's wife's murder.This case established
Reid's reputation and popularised his technique.
Parker recanted his confession the next day,but
it was admitted to evidence at his trial.He was
convicted by a jury and sentenced to life in prison.
He was later determined to be innocent,after another
man confessed and was found to have been the
perpetrator.Parker sued the state for wrongful
conviction;it paid him $500,000 in compensation.
Note.Zafar Supari you are guilty of criminal offense.
There once was a girl
who lived in a very small world
she was 11 years old
and thought she looked very pale and old.
Until she went walking
one day
and was feeling very sad
she met a boy
they called Chad
he started to boost up
her head
with all the good things he said.
she believed every little word
know she's about to have a little baby girl.
She finally decided to tell the father
about the child
but when she went over
what she saw was worth her wild.
She seen him
laying across his bed
with a girl they called Lased.
She ran out of his room
but she wished
she never believed
anything he had said
She told him about the child
and everything he denied
she was so depressed
she went home and her bed
she sat and cryed.
Now she has to make a decision
of having an abortion or to keep the child living,
It takes a long time to make her decision
because an abortion
is not worth knowing
that your mother gave you up the first day
you were living.
Would you give away an unborn soul
one of God's creations
a precious peice of gold.
She had to decide
what to do
then she heard two songs
that sang Can I live and I miss u.
The song had a great toul
for the song
there is one of the most precious soul.
She's decided to raise her child
and not worry
about the things he said
that were so foul.
Now she's wondering what's he going to say to her
when he gets all of his child support papers .
Young men of wrongful courage and conviction,
seem to plague our beloved nation.
Many of them do not successfully complete
their high school education.
Without any proper guidance from Jesus Christ,
They have no inner voice of conviction in
their troubled young lives. They seek the
wrong passage ways. Death and violence
becomes their entire world.
Without any proper sense of what happens
to be right or wrong, most likely they
will decide to become gang members before
very long. Their families and their communities
sing mournful death's songs.
They arm themselves with knives and guns
along with other methods of massive destruction.
Their imitation into gang life, often involves
the taking of innocent lives. The streets
of their cities are crimson red with
human blood.
Revenge killings of rival gang members
seem to escalate. Death without any
honor is their ultimate fate. Decent
society members need to rescue
these young outcasts before it
becomes much too late.
Love in Christ Jesus
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
aka Roxy 54/ October Country
Revised version
February 28, 2018