Long Attorneys Poems
Long Attorneys Poems. Below are the most popular long Attorneys by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Attorneys poems by poem length and keyword.
Air Force general office
General document call
Wing general
General wing at hand
Constitutional allowance of print exam
In history we are where in civilization
Urban Structure Inspection
Fail
Instruction to add
The generals attorneys must approach American diction to resign civil unrest.
Attorney General to Forward Admiral
Forward Admiral to General Reserve
General Assembly
Before
Reconvening
Treasury
Obstructing mailbox
Requisition order for reinstitution of mailbox
In the issue of "sermons and titles" in loss
Perhaps draft able language of this nature
Please requests to defer scheduled
Appointment and disjourn justice.
Appointment may not be controlled.
This is again violation of rights. Also
Furthering evidence of consistent
Disregard for equality in attitude and
Unanimity of action in attempt of
Coercion
Wills to turn around discussion, dialogue
To the tuned laws legal availability
Thus document owners are not deprived of "housing" control and ownership of speech and speeches of said document(s) currently committed in clerical error
Before presidents and attorneys got hold of it,
and back before theologians were even a glint in the Golden GodHead's eye,
Prayer, silent or verbose,
was filled with reminders and gratitude to ourselves
and for and from others,
with pleas for urgent help
from all souls past
and still longed for,
especially those personally remembered
by having shared this home on Earth
in more balanced golden era times
of enchanting imaginations,
And petitions
to future generations
to finish what we,
and all who have passed through before us,
have healthy started,
And to forgive us for what we have neglected to rightly left unfinish,
failed to deeply hear and see resonance,
heart and mind resilience,
feel and think restoratively
this difference between healthy prayerful life
and pathological resistance
to sacred multiculturing educational re-membering
theo/ecological resources of silent EarthTribe souls.
For experiential ecologists,
and for communion theologists,
those who see cooperative nature's climate outside
reflecting organic spirit's health v. mortal pathology inside,
Prayer often leads from suffering impatient words and warnings
toward restoring just non-violent silence.
Life as prayer provokes a transubstantiating bridge
between past and future regenerators
for growing compassionately interdependent Left/Right Brain Egos
To travel back through origins of healthy DNA time
and forward toward omega tipping points to co-arise branching wealth
securing resilient global resonance
restoring justice
regathering Earth's ecstatic silent communion
within AllSouls before,
Breaking through theological silence, glass ceilings,
boundaries for and against solidarity of ecstatic futures,
polycultural wealth of health outcomes,
resiliently sustainable.
Such prayer changes interdependent things, systems
transubstantiate yin-cooperative and yang-competitive relationships.
Living prayer stretches ZeroSouls
experiencing ZenZone co-empathy--
easier in communal ego/eco-dynamic
empowering ecstatic silence
of a FullMoon winter solstice night.
She keeps a loaded barb
in her pocket book.
She once found an unused finger,
and has been thrusting it
at hapless men ever since.
She loves TMZ and Nancy Grace.
She sells space to celebrities
and their attorneys.
She harangues the cosmetologist
at Macy’s,
probing for facial weaknesses.
She carries a Pekinese with diamonds.
She is a mother of cloud-children.
They live on the outskirts
of her other interests.
She diets on crustaceans and couscous.
Her soft parts are pummeled
into snapping turtles
While I was away,
her hard buttocks came to visit.
It left a blank card
and a small unspoken threat.
The ‘threat’ was on the front step
when I returned home.
it is now under my roof,
organizing my life, remodeling it
into something less comfortable.
more ergonomically efficient.
I have informed the authorities.
in this civilized democratic society we have the law
a system of checks and balances that our forefathers had foresaw
but today we have the rich and powerful, the elitist ones
who think that they're above the law no matter what deeds they have done
we also have those who are in a law-enforcement capacity
who think the law does not apply to their acts of duplicity
we have court clerks, judges, attorneys and D.A.s
who use the rules of law as a game that they can play
yet it's us the American citizens, the law-abiding average man
who view the law as a most important and judicious plan
innocent until proven guilty, it's the democratic way
we regard the law as a necessary rule to have order in this day
it's a shame and a travesty that those in trusted positions of power
think that their deeds are above the law at any given hour
so how do we fix this problem and amend this flaw?
so everybody will know that they are not above the law.
I told the truth
and it was enough to ruin, more than one life.
Not because it was false,
but because it would not move
out of the way.
They did not argue with it.
They closed around it.
Rooms do this.
So do systems, built upon Brady violations.
I learned that truth does not shout.
It stands.
Strickland vs Washington is a mountain rarely successfully climbed.
And standing at the top is unforgivable
where all others are forced to kneel.
They asked me to explain myself—
again,
and again,
unable to allocute their reason,
until explanation sounded like guilt
and clarity like refusal.
I watched lies pass freely,
given chairs, given time,
while truth was told
to wait outside
in the cold stormy weather.
There where I was at they mercilessly assaulted me.
They did so without hope thinking because they were never getting out they had to.
For nearly seven years they rearranged my world, so my words could not survive in it.
Innocence was called, I am, and was naïve.
Inconsistency was called obsession.
Pain was called behavior.
I did not break loudly.
But silently in great distress.
I learned how to disappear in their world,
while still breathing.
If I stayed alive,
it was not out of hope.
It was accuracy.
I knew what was real
and I would not let it be erased
it was hidden by repetition.
This is not a redemption.
This is a record.
I told the truth, on the stand.
Where most are instructed by their attorneys,
not too.
It was of course not enough, at eight thirty in the evening,
the jury asked the judge to be suquestererd and judge menendez the Chief judge said to return to there room and stay until a verdict they found.
They returned thirty minutes later with a split verdict, where with a high probability they would have found me innocent, had they been allowed to go home to return the next day.
Robert Vaughn's demise is something that billions of people deplore.
If he had lived just eleven days longer, he would've turned eighty-four.
Vaughn had the ability to make movies and TV shows enjoyable.
When we lost this great man, it was like losing a precious jewel.
When we watched him on the small and the big screen, it was always sure to please.
During his later years, he continued to act and he also did commercials for attorneys.
If you visit Hollywood, you can see Vaughn's star on the Walk of Fame.
Because of his death, television and movies will never again be the same.
[Dedicated to Robert Vaughn (1932-2016) who died on November 11, 2016.]
[verse]
My crazy sister had roamed homeless for so long.
Once an intellectual, then her brain went wrong.
For hospitals to keep her, she had to be a danger.
A strange logic, but to reality they were a stranger.
[chorus]
Where does Brenda sleep tonight?
On an underpass out of sight?
In a doorway, or a city park?
Seeing visions in the dark?
[verse]
One day, a call came in on my cell.
It was Brenda's voice she had stories to tell.
She said she was at Union Station DC
I said I'd be there as fast as I could be.
[verse]
I called Dad, he said you can't cope
She's too much to handle not much hope
Doctor says put her on a plane back here.
I had to agree but felt an undefined fear.
[verse]
Brenda was waiting - tousled hair, blue eyes.
She gave me a hug; I felt my spirits rise.
She wanted to come to my house, I had to demur.
"Dad wants you flown home; you need a cure."
[verse]
"No way" said Brenda, ready to fight.
So I put her in a hotel just for the night.
I said, "see you next day just wait for me."
Brenda saw a trap and went out to be free.
[verse]
After work I came home, got as far as my door.
Two cops standing there, with photos in store.
Of Brenda stabbed 40 times, chest and face.
By a supposed member of the human race.
[chorus]
Where does Brenda sleep tonight?
On an overpass hiding from sight?
In a doorway, or a city park?
Seeing visions in the dark?
[verse]
You can blame the underworld for the crime
But subsidized attorneys stopped care every time.
The lawyers excuse: she had always been free.
But that was not freedom's meaning to me.
[verse]
Their motto seemed to be "Live free and die."
Freedom without reason is just a good-sounding lie.
We couldn't give her the one chance to get well.
She died with her rights on, after 4 years of hell.
[verse]
Now its true that there can be shades of gray.
But from the spiral there should be a better way
Dad's home not meant as a madwoman's base.
And freedom is not just about physical space.
[end]
So now we know where Brenda sleeps.
Under a stone where a willow weeps.
Rosy ideals need common sense at the core.
No freedom now, she'll roam no more.
Youth was just a lone brushstroke
Foolishly, I thought it would forever glow...
the same best friend forever
the same candy store from heaven
the same field of flowers gold...
but youth never really had a chance.
It was dragged from the warm tide pool
into the deep blue end.
So many wasted moments
swinging from the social anxiety tree
lonely bee looking for the flower
amidst a decade and a half of cold concrete...
The best friend died of liver disease
the heavenly candy store is gone
eaten by a horde of attorneys
the wildflower field plowed under
by rows of broken homes.
One brushstroke on the canvas of eternity.
The joke had always been on me.
Hello. I think that you, like most people, have met me.
My name is Irresponsibility, and I live up to my name.
I will never forget "The Twinkies Defense" used by
Dan White's attorneys in the double murders of
Mayor Moscone and Harvey Milk in San Francisco.
Should I be held responsible for things I do when
under the influence of sugars or other consumables?
I will neither lie, cry, nor deny that I did the things
for which I am accused. Yes, I did them. But.
But I will never take responsibility for my actions.
I ran the stop sign, but I should not have to pay the fine.
He, her, them, or they? It's okay, but certainly not Me.
Yes, I pulled the trigger, but I did not make the gun.
The government needs better laws to stop gun makers.
Indeed, I concur and consent that this confession
is in essence a concession filled with 'Buts, Howevers,
Moreovers, and of course, Whatever'; but not a 'Period'.
Yes, I'm a thief and a cheat, but it is not my fault.
The devil, his demons, and all their friends made me do it.
It is therefore not my fault, and I will not take the BLAME.
If you understood my problems, you would never BLAME me .
Ambulance chasers
have morphed into
Civil Rights Attorneys...
salivating at the gurneys – a big
paycheck a chance to obtain,
making a living by inflaming
already blood-red, fiery pain –
Compounding perceived
prejudice -- hate; propagating
color-division...though good
blindness has been of late
on many lips and in loving sighs
contradicting rank media allies
(conspiring enclaves – perpetuating
malicious, racist lies)...
manipulating facts for
evil purpose; they are
the “Mess” in cesspool...with
only one rule, win at all cost,
and a healthful society though
not so gullible as they think
forced to wade through
foul sewage
a shyter's manufactured
legal stink....