A child…in a foreign land.
Where we come from—it's all just sand.
Deserted the desert...
but still feeling tethered
to the place that feels
forever home.
Yet—that place
we can no longer roam.
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Left the home land with legislative laws.
As they contained loads of legality flaws.
The colour of my skin cutting at me like a saw.
No jobs, no work, it was my last straw.
Left the land I knew to go and find more.
Knowing that the Foreign Land would have something better in store.
When I moved—I thought my troubles would be soothed.
But found other trouble,
my persistent presence made the locals grumble.
Looked at as an immigrant,
but every day—
a defendant.
"They are stealing our jobs!"you say.
"They are stealing our wives!"you convey.
You never stopped to think—
That just maybe...
we're trying our best?
Yet...
we will always
be seen as less?
At home,
we've got families to feed,
we've got people who are in need.
But what you fail to understand—
We can't help them...
unless we are in the Foreign Land.
God is My Sin
I became a defendant. Socially indictee
Because I don’t accept the immorality of modern psychology
God created the two parts of life. Man and woman. For life, for life
I believe it
The Bible is my witness
Psychology cannot rule life
Only God
The Departing of The Heart
Salutations for the sound of mind and poverty of heart
Reparations that don’t come through in time to rectify the start
Commiserations for the ones who find it hardest to eventually part
Palpitations of another heart that cannot perceive the concept that it must depart
Military consequences that send the young men out to war
Conciliatory influences of the leaders who target hiring of the poor
Crematory inferences necessary as they knock on heavens door
An Adversary without recompense that helps me get up off the floor
Kindness for the people that are on daily parade
Blindness from the steeple as we play Holy charades
They Find less sympathy for the feeble as they huddle close and afraid
Passing through the eye of a needle as the ferryman gets paid
Interjections from the galley as the defendant begins to cry
Objections in a midnight alley as the amendment causes him to deny
Rejections of the black sheep in a family as without her flock she’ll surely die
Comprehensions of the urgency that communicate in sighs
The End by Elizabeth Moroz
The jury said the defendant was guilty
So the judge ruled 30 days in the klinky
If you visit the slammer
He'll be in his pyjammers
Playing a wee tune on his dinghy
In a court where justice stands, A person, and People's fate rests in our hands.
An individual took a bold stand tall, Against a system that's hurt us all.
With a gun, he made his case, Not for killing, but to face
The power that caused so much pain, in healthcare's name, he sought to gain.
The jury has the power grand, To change the outcome with hearts in hand.
Their job is not just to see the law, But to find what's right, without a flaw.
Jury nullification means this: To say, "This defendant, we dismiss."
For justice's sake, they can decide, To change the rules that we abide.
A verdict not just guilt or free, But a stand against what shouldn't be.
For in their hearts, they hold the key, A single choice can set us free.
So let the jury speak their mind, To make our future fair and kind.
In their hands, a chance to right, The wrongs that keep us in the night.
Jury nullification can right many wrongs within our nation.
THREE SIDES TO EVERY STORY
There’s the prosecution with firm resolve
With a jutting chin, in that righteous pose
Poking accusations, seeking the conviction
And trying to expose all attempted fiction
But with that one last chance at the close
The facts, around which it should revolve
The defence, allowed just a little latitude
Offers reasons why police were mistaken
Upon such factors the case is dependent
And seeking sympathy for the defendant
Claiming that due diligence was forsaken
Open hands, an almost pleading attitude
Then the jury, some keen but others not
Expenses paid yet not covering lost wages
The judge is expecting our decision today
But we’re all still unconvinced, either way
And this trial has been going on for ages
Let us just say guilty with what we’ve got
petrichor sillage
lustmord miasma iron cloy
a clot of steel to sever
scarlet necklace gargle silence
cell phone text ‘she is gone, hurry’
metal carriage in driveway
front door opens, beloved eyes close
cafuné at the burial site
saudade lace iktsuarpok
without you — hiraeth
shower of concrete
sixteen feet deep will silence you
now your screams are —
bubbles with pleas
well, when you run out of air
be awhile with the tunnel snake vomiting
water is slow trickle
drown in my misery
laying beside the maggot who broke us apart
golden silence
we make eye contact
I almost save you but on the way…
komorebi ray on the faucet
both our eyebrows raised
full crank
this was
all on camera
question is your honor
wouldn’t you do the same—?
the lord wanted it done
I did what God wanted me to do
the footage shows that as truth
so your honor
are we through here—?
free to go?
court finds the defendant—
“Guilty as charged!” came the jurors’ report,
Reflecting that justice was served.
The law of the land says to follow the court,
So the verdict was what was deserved.
The defendant, of course, didn’t seem to agree
But instead of accepting the news,
He disparaged the judge and the system so we
Might accept all his nasty, warped views.
When our country was founded, civility ruled
And the leaders worked hard on the laws.
What I hope is that voters won’t somehow be fooled
By a felon with nothing but flaws.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dawns a courtroom closing in on midday, and a cheery sun
uncovering its place being less demanding--a sage who
dons sufficiently in her vocation that imparts one who bears
a respectable position, and one of a high office--so without
delay, the judge withdraws to his chambers for consultations
with the defense attorney and prosecutor, et al., she then
advances towards the lone defendant from her private seat
in the gallery--an officer of the court, immediately takes
notice of her movements and in anticipation presented her
with a chair for her pleasure--the defendant who sees her,
respectfully stands, whereto, she politely informs him that
he may remain seated and air him in a one-sided
conversation being the soul speaker, and he as the soul
listener. Albeit, exceptions to that disclosure evolved at the
end as there is cause for the conversation to become ironic.
*The opener of My Short Story: White Lies, in two parts; I'm
afeared of old habits unchanged as alit surface, amid dim, and
aligned depth of mired cliché, sways a gavel 'ere ...
The wall of russet brick, which, once resplendent,
ever crumbles leaving gaps; a toothless grin
slicing landscape. No longer the defendant
between the plebeians and the crown within,
the ancestral barrier is at death’s door;
rifled masonry builds shelter for the poor,
bridled meadows slowly overgrow the rest;
a child skips oblivious across, now blessed.
the judge was angered
at the repeating drunkard
now he is tuckered
for he heard enough
of his lies and made-up stuff
cause of the handcuff
claimed he was not drunk
blamed the other guy that punk
~meaning the tree trunk
defendant will rise
looking at the evidence
he's telling the truth
that's ridiculous
he's innocent and the guilt
~falls on the tree trunk
proved himself sober
at the masquerade party
~tree trunk who got drunk
Smack the Naysayer upside the head
far fewer would have been harmed
had citizens not been disarmed --
Forefathers wise for Second Amendment
which Naysayers habitually make defendant
a necessary tool
to keep safe even the fool
preventing complete social upheaval
while man, his soul, remains harbinger
of evil!
The jury’s duty is impossible.
They have to decide who is lying.
The defendant says he is innocent.
Police say he is guilty.
Defense lawyer says he was falsely accused.
Points out his ex-wife works for the lab and wants him imprisoned.
Police detectives are leaning on the DNA blood evidence.
Who is lying and how many of them? It is a quandary.
Immanent yet transcendent, glory of the earth
Joy is love-resplendent, spiritual rebirth
Every soul is born dependent, on the voice within
Only one is our defendant, for the price of sin
Happiness is not a task, on which we can depend
Happy children learn to ask, before they learn to fend
What we do to gain success, is worthy to discuss
But when we search for happiness, our happiness finds us
The happiness, that we expect, is not the perfect deal
For love is born of self-respect, regarding how we feel
When kindness borrows charity, to feed the hungry heart
Then service needs our clarity, to do the goodly part
Though happiness is fleeting, our love provides a lift
For good is worth repeating, and joy is our true gift
We love and serve each other, through immanent review
To win the grateful brother, transcendent glory too.
Sometimes in life, one needs a map to find a destination.
Relying on such a tool can cause a slight defendant relation.
There are times that one might ponder the meaning of existence.
On this journey of trial, error, joy, and pain, one prime element is persistence.
Ignorance of man's law still constitutes being liable,
Therefore it is wise to use references within the Holy Bible.
Pages of the word and lineal heritage abide within,
solutions to problems can be found in the Bible, it's the best place to begin.
Be not dismayed by arrows that fly by day or fire that consumes by night,
for utilizing the scriptures helps in manifesting superior insight.
When lost or dismayed about which way to go,
the use of the scriptures will help you to grow.
Have the humility of the earth, which can be molded into any shape,
and have complete faith in God and his spirit will emanate as wine from the grape.
The consequences of life will work out fine with proper deductions,
when assembling something for the first time, one needs a book of instructions.
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