Through corridors where echoes stay,
An advocate walks day by day.
With weary files and restless eyes,
Beneath the court’s unending skies.
Not every truth is clear and bright,
Some tremble softly out of sight.
Yet hope survives in every plea,
Like waves that rise upon the sea.
Between the laws, between the pain,
They stand through loss, through doubt, through rain.
For justice is a distant flame,
Still burning though the winds may change.
The black coat carries silent cries,
Of broken homes and unheard lives.
Each page contains a human storm,
A wounded soul, a trembling form.
There are battles no one sees,
Hidden behind legalities.
A calm voice masking heavy strain,
A smile concealing private pain.
Still onward walks the heart so brave,
Not seeking glory, wealth, or praise.
But searching through the noise and fear,
To make the voice of truth appear.
And though the road is long and worn,
Where faith and disappointment mourn,
An advocate still chooses light—
A journey between hope and truth.
Motive:
jealousy twisted into a desire for power,
Systems built from broken trust,
Superiority sourced by those who exude it,
Blood spilled from the hands of those who are black
Empires built from false prophecy
Lies cultivated from the weeds of projected self-hatred
Motive - the white man to appear as the superior race
Alibi:
The fragility of whiteness,
The acidic tears of the white woman,
The weaponisation of power by the white man,
The homemade, home-baked stereotypes - to divide
Propaganda pieced together with the glue of prejudiced policies -
Weaving deceit to narrate harmful ideologies of blackness
The portrayal of victimhood, for the picture of white innocence,
The abuse of power, to abuse black people
Alibi - racial killings masquerading as self-defence
The defence rests
Prosecutors sweat
The judge, blinded by bias
The jurors , all white
The verdict:
Not guilty -
By reason of fear of colour
Acquitted
Now freedom awaits -
For the white man, now he can do it again
bloody bites bleed me
red lawsuits courtrooms sue me
paper lion king
prosecutor is pushing for a guilty verdict.
defense lawyer argues there is no crime, for there is no body.
forensic expert says she must have been killed, due to the amount of blood.
her parents are conflicted.
they want her to be alive.
they do not want her murdered.
they do not want to blame their son-in-law
he has been like a son for twenty-two years.
and he has custody of their five grandchildren.
they feign their support.
keeping their accusatory feelings under wraps.
holding their breath in the courtroom.
waiting to see where this show is taking them
The jury sits stoic and pensive with unwavering eyes
Set upon me like a lock on prey
Persecution for the crime of being small
Groundless accusation I have yet to discern
Though it seems the world has already done so
I am by fault a timid being
Created, it seems, by a mind set on juxtaposition
I am neither here nor there
Neither bright nor shadow
I stand with shaking knees
Sit with shaking hands
Interrogated for moments or hours
I’ve been forced to shrink
Forced to fold into myself,
But I am the one standing before a judge
The verdict readies itself to change a life
I receive my sentence with salted, glass eyes
Doomed to life without a chance
-s.grace
OLD AND NEW 3 : COURTROOM
On a throne sat a vulture
feathers preened in paisley silk
eyes red and drawn
heart tightened by trauma
skin thirstily drank almond oil
Ghosts in black gowns stood
around remembering privileges
past the ruffles, insulated by
a myriad rules crying ink
spilling verbs on cold
corridor benches
White rhino horned a metre
eyes flecked hazel fear
buttocks rippled castrated power
in Versace pants pressed by
servants underpaid, yet dancing
Blood numbered endless doors
coffee machine broken, judge
pasted a smile borrowed
from law school decades ago
onto a hand-painted t-shirt
Another drama of new estates
I wondered where the freedom
fairies were ?
©GhairoDanielsPoetry1997
In the witness box
pathologist Cox
a seasoned witness quick on the draw
the lawyer, no rookie
a rather tough cookie
with a weak defense was clutching at straw
As a last resort:
"Your post-mortem report
shows the deceased resisted attack."
"Surprisingly, M'Lord
he looked rather bored
and certainly gave me no flak.
"His eyes were closed
he pretended to doze
or already in Dead People's Land."
As laughter erupted
the judge interrupted
amused, he held up his hand:
"Devoid of breath
he still feigned death
you must have freaked him with scalpel in hand
for due corroboration
and a full explanation
should not we call the corpse to the stand?"
He forgot to remember her name
but remembered to forget her claim.
==============================
Contest:Chiasmus
Date:10th March 2012
Courtroom…Again
Back into the courtroom I go
All the personnel I seem to know
I’m really sick of playing this game
Coming here over and over gets really lame
One of these times I’m going to land in jail
Communication with family only by mail
The DA and lawyers making a deal
A guy getting locked up for a car he didn’t steal
The judge seems to be a descent guy
But not the kind of man to forgive a lie
This time I walked away with no penalty
But next time they’ll probably get me
I cannot wait to put all this in the past
Being good is something that must last
I don’t want to get in trouble anymore
To have a good life, with happiness galore!
The Courtroom
As I sit here in the courtroom
I see others who are filled with doom
But for me I’m not to nervous
For god provides me with a great service
He reminds me things could be worse
I could be laying in the back of a hearse
I got to remember life will go on
Soon all my troubles will be gone
Even if I go to jail
I will receive some love by mail
Most others have it worse than me
The love of my parents I can see
I may have a pretty bad record
But surely you must take my word
If this is as bad as it gets
I’ll be doing cartwheels in double sets
With that awesome aura
of competence about her,
against her cool confidence,
he'll have to walk on water;
her lethal, legal logic makes
his best arguments leak,
and now he's thrusting his whole arm
in the dike, so to speak,
with water spraying all around him,
he just wants to cry,
but he's got no one as a scapegoat
to hang out to dry.
Her expertise kicks up in him
a dust-storm of mute wrath,
like dull anger throbbing
as murderous thoughts' aftermath;
his pique hisses low, wanting
to roar as fiery fury,
but he must control his blaze
to forestall self-injury;
he must feign congeniality
and endure all of these
and swallow what's left of his pride,
pleading, "Your Honor, please."
Courtroom Drama
My, my what can I say?
Back in court for one more day.
Mr. Nathaniel showing his stuff.
Upset the judge that was very tough.
Waving at his friends like he was in school.
Disrespected the court now that was not cool.
“Detain him since he wants to play,
Let’s keep him here”, was what the judge said.
Nov. 26-07 My son Nathaniel had to go to court to answer previous charges
on trespassing. In stead of him sitting still and facing the court. He was
watching his friends on the other side of the wall and waving at them and
smiling. The judge didn’t see anything to smile about.
I have to return on Friday with documentation showing why he was not in school.
He was suspended from the school district for carrying a knife and we had to
wait for a hearing. Talking about perilous times.
Please keep us in your prayers.
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