Long Bailiff Poems
Long Bailiff Poems. Below are the most popular long Bailiff by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bailiff poems by poem length and keyword.
The atmosphere is electric,
There is music in de air,
Drinks at the bar are flowing
I, in de latest gear
Opportunity for sex on the horizon
I'll pick up a guy or two
It's time I start to live my life,
Enjoy de things I do
After hours on de dance floor and liquor that can't done
I still felt the emptiness which follows this type of short-lived fun.
As I sat and pondered, it all came back and hit me like a tone
God's word says sin indeed has pleasure, but only for a season
Lord, I thank You for Your Word!
That is one scenario, I have at least another two.
Which clearly paints the role God's Word plays in everything we do.
Broke to de bone not a cent to my name
The baby crying and the bailiff here to make me shame
I was hungry and hurting with nowhere to go
Cause I had already begged all de people I know
I dropped down on de floor and poured my heart out to heaven
Then God's word spoke clear '... ask and it shall be given'
Almost instantly a knock was heard
God had moved my neighbor's heart to completely fill my cupboard
It's times like these my gratitude would very clearly be heard
Lord, I thank You for Your Word!
Girl you look like a zip when you turn to de side
If I had a face like yours I'd be sure to hide
Stick and stone may break my bones but words would paralyze me
My spirit is wounded and my self-worth 's low as could be
People judge me not based on who I am inside
But simply on what they see
Maybe I should end my life and put a stop to this
But God's Word came almost audibly - one I couldn't miss
Child, you are fearfully and wonderfully made
Known before the beginning of time
All your members were written in my book while yet undefined
I marveled at God's grace and His love for me
Then could not help but raise my voice
And say more confidently
Lord, I thank You for Your Word!
Lord, I cannot thank you enough for all the things You do
For Your Word which is ever powerful has been proven to be true
Inspired by You completely and used to bring out in us the best
For doctrine, reproof, correction, instruction in righteousness
You said if I hide it in my heart, it's sure to keep me from sin
And that success is guaranteed if I do all that is written therein
When I give thought to all these truths
I have to let my voice be heard
And conclude by saying again
Lord, I thank You for Your Word!!!
spinning on high speed mostly out of control
the washing machine failed to conclude any
of its operation according to a wished for manual
given at birth he had not much choice in the matter
due to the lottery of inheritance he missed the bonus prize
surely his emotional mind had often given way to reason
but logic hardly ever stopped the autopilot in his mind
and with the off button defective it guzzled energy
which his thinking muzzled confused inconclusive repetitive
not so much a merry go round but rather a scary rollercoaster
plunging from great heights into nowhere in particular
but with nauseous combustion and vertigo squared to infinity
stop he pleaded and begged for a power cut or the bailiff
to disconnect him from such uncomfortable corrosion
because he himself just could not find the trip fuse
was never able to cut some wires nor change charge or course
inevitable depression provided only temporary reprieve
and alcohol simply increased the ugly voices after a blackout
how he wished to wash his thoughts manually with a bar of soap
but even then procrastination took over and merely smudged the stains
it bordered on incurable insanity but by then he had well crossed any frontier
and to emigrate from his own self required a valid visa for healing
when he did not even know where his expired passport lived a new life
in the past he had paid for expensive medicines kind therapists and doctors
which numbed him for a while or simply passed some time with empathy
yet there was no cure insight no major insight and still misfiring synapses
he joked sometimes that he had seriously considered a frontal lobotomy
but the idea of a sharp instrument passing through his eye socket did not appeal
suicidal ideation changed into self-pity and the machine kept spinning in vain
when he discovered ego-cide and acceptance of suffering karma and gratitude
his life changed dramatically as the cyclones rotated into more conventional drift
eventually he realized he would have been much worse off with a cement mixer
because then the pebbles in the cauldron would surely have shattered his scull
27th August 2024
Well, you asked for it so here goes!
I'm five-feet, eight inches tall from scalp to toes.
Born October 1930 in Indiana - so there, I've revealed my age.
I'm blessed with great health even at this elder stage.
Happily married to my dear Vera for 62 wonderful years,
And we've met life's vicissitudes with laughter and some tears.
Two daughters Leanna and Leslie but, alas, lost Mark, our boy.
Through the years they've brought Vera and me so much joy!
I'm blessed with 6 grandchildren and 4 great grands.
(I hope to stick around for more as my family expands.)
Enlisted at age 17 in the Air Force in 1948 retiring in 1978.
Assigned to Morocco, Germany and Japan which was great!
I 'fought' the Korean War in Bermuda dodging sea shells.
Met Vera in Bermuda and in Texas we rang those wedding bells!
Retired as a Chief Master Sergeant, the top Air Force enlisted grade.
'Twas a challenging, exciting life and I'm sure glad that I stayed.
While in the Air Force I earned a degree in Justice Administration,
And upon Air Force retirement became a Colorado Bailiff for my vocation.
I like folks who keep their word, are punctual and I don't suffer jerks gladly!
Me and the Lord are working on this but I have very little patience, sadly.
I love God, family and nation and enjoy writing poetry and even though,
I've penned nearly 1200, alas, as a bard I've made very little dough!
I like steak and taters and a sip of Beringers White Zinfindel now and then,
And going to Cripple Creek to play the one-armed bandit when I can.
Sorry if I bored you but once I began writing the words just seemed to flow.
Now, you probably know more about me than you ever wanted to know!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Entry for Regina Riddle's "Bio Poem" Contest
CAR COURT
Enter, the older heavyweight steel giant,
The bailiff, a 1954 Hudson, reads unhesitant :
On the docket for this morning : guilty by implication - a Trabant,
In close custody with a Cutlass Supreme for supervision.
Next on the docket: a Pinto for likely gas-tank explosion.
Third on the docket: an English-made car (any marque) - body corrosion.
Lawyer for the prosecution, a pretentious character, a gas guzzler SUV
4x4 off-road with winch - for Saturday use on driveway only -
Hangs out with Vettes; and uses NO2 in fuel. Who?Drugs? Not me!
Downbeat guy as the defence counsel , a solid no nonsense Hummer,
A real enviro-bummer,
Klutzy ugly and personality like a mack truck in summer.
Trabant coughed its way to the stand.
Clerk of court Volkswagen, order in hand,
Read the indictment quietly, efficiently, bland.
Prosecution began with noisy opening musical-horn tunelets
The jury, all serious-minded stolid Volvos and Toyota Starlets
Were not impressed. Hummer clumsily interrupted with an objection, “Let’s
Stop, on the grounds of precedent,” but at this point Pinto reversed,
Crushed its trunk and its gas-tank exploded, and worst ,
Hit the the English car : and into flames they both burst.
Cutlass argued with the SUV, which was winched away pending sentence.
Case against the English car dismissed from lack of evidence.
Trabant was deported back to Germany: no import licence
Overseeing all these proceedings : the ever-reliable, I-won’t-budge,
The I-have-a-spotless-reputation, I-hold-no-grudge,
The mechanical virgin, the silent Rolls Royce as judge.
...........................................................................................................
Sequestered possibly, the jury deliberates
Determining verdict, handing down fate
Consequences harsh or maybe none at all
Defendant’s only action, is to now wait
Did he truly do it? Does evidence support?
Who knows for sure, but the victim and he?
For that is the reason he waits in the court
To determine his fate, his life, then to be.
He said he is innocent, not there at the scene,
He arrived after the man had shot his gun.
He pried it from fingers, threw to the street
Yet stayed, though thinking that he should run
Because he was there and on the gun, prints
D A thought it airtight, they had the right man
They were just looking forward to getting the win
Without truly examining the evidence at hand
Circumstantial presented, the D A now prays
As jury, in locked room, goes over the facts
The defendant, too praying his evidence weighs
Counts on faith and that the jury’s not stacked
The bailiff called order, all silent, we stood
The judge and the jury came back to the room
Each lawyer had felt they did all they could
While one hoped for freedom, the other for gloom
The juror, he stood with his paper in his hand
He hesitated briefly, then he started to read
“We the jurors”, he said with a voice of command
“Find the defendant not guilty.” We couldn’t believe.
The room was then chaos as two families roared
One was for happiness, the other quite mad
The defendant then stood and expressed once more
Condolences for the family as he, too, felt sad
Hence, I plunge into imagination to encumber suffering,
Athwart are the horizons wider than my pride,
I, one but three, such a symbolic trope, the Trinity,
A gorgeous exaltation gorged into voracity, itself.
The good is near me! The evil - inside of me!
The principles of distortion underlay the phenomena
Of eternal agony, above and beyond embers of Inferno.
I command the creation of the tenth circle, beyond
Boiling rivers of blood and fire, beyond the frozen lakes,
It’s the core of gravity, the centre of an inescapable certainty,
It’s darker than darkness, blacker than blindness,
It’s dwelling at the bottom of a raven’s gut – and I call it – hope.
Have none! Do not wear livery. Do not submit to a judge,
Nor allow a bailiff to cross your path in the legacy of the flames.
On the wings of poetry far from perishing Evil, all the way to
The dawns of assorted cognizance that whirligigs the itch in me,
I exfoliate the words by setting the residuum of thoughts, in line
With the divinity of soul, that presides in my inner world, unknown
to the world.
A cipher on the head – I cannot be bought as I am not selling
The spiritual cosmology of my imagination, even when it’s ebbing,
No treatise of compromise is saccharine I crave, as I confer
A profane sense in the heathen parish of myself, for myself.
Hence, I plunge into imagination…
People rose in quick succession
As the bailiff said "All rise , this court is now in session"
The judge walked into the courtroom
And the trial would begin soon
My client stared straight ahead
On trial for killing the husband she had recently wed
He used to beat her after his drinking bouts
It was either him or her, no doubt
But it was a clear case of self defense
As I listened to the prosecutors opening statement
Then the first witness was called
An elderly woman who lived two houses away
She said she heard a loud argument on the night in question
Followed by two shots in quick succession
But she forgot to mention
That fireworks were going off on the night in question
As more witnesses were called
I cross examined them all
There was no denying that some of them were lying
The trial lasted for seven days
And there were many reasonable doubts raised
Finally it was given to the jury to deliberate
In their hands was my client's fate
On the fourth day a verdict was reached
My client stood up with tears in her eyes
As the judge said "Will the defendant please rise"
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop
But my client's tears did not stop
The verdict was read rather quickly
"We the jurors find the defendant .... not guilty"!!
My clients fears turned to joy
As she hugged and thanked me
I had set the fair maiden free
From the dragon raging out of control
I was the hero, the dragon slayer of old
In every beLIEve, there is a lie
Which lay hold on your mind; a tie
Like sweats dripping from glands to dry
For feeble is it to live free in forever goodbye...
Be calm but try to ask why
In every lOVERs' affair, there is an over
But before you'll discover
Many are times, you've laughed of Oliver
For his seeming twist in turns recovered
Now comes your turn to rediscover
Life is undercover!
In every friENDship, there is an end
Buried many reasons of needs to blend
In every little mistake you wish to amend
In pleasure to bless your partner and commend
Him off faults but you don't care to pretend
He can still become a godsend
In every trUSt, there is an us
Willing to bear the cross
Of all clouded trance of fuss
Where no one is at loss
Or be tagged a cuss
In lIFe, there is an if
That associates knee to knife
Which surrenders thy lovers to strife
And tears to keep it dead a tiff
Even if we have a qualified bailiff
Let lie be acceptable if it could save a life
Why won't end be welcomed to set us free
If trust is an issue to fight without laugh
Then all isn't over but a disguised referee
But when there isn't space for blunt truth
A place equal for both
Black and White: elders and youth
Who will be undaunting to oath
And caress it like Ruth
Life becomes miserable to cope
And a dreamland for a beautiful lost hope
#GeorgeFloydChallenge!
The distinguished judge sat on the bench for many, many years.
He was highly esteemed and loved by his associates and his peers.
With great dignity he donned the robe of his honorable profession,
And with clarity and common sense made his rulings at each session.
The challenge of the law since a young attorney was his passion.
For those washed up on perilous shoals, he had great compassion.
Nervous young lawyers were blessed to have him hear their case.
He treated them with ego-boosting dignity and abundant grace.
An unpretentious county judge was all he ever aspired to be,
Upholding his solemn oath to serve the people of his community.
Dispensing justice fairly to the rich and penniless as well,
Interpreting the law as he saw it and in this he did excel!
He scrupulously observed the Constitution and the tenets it decreed,
And espoused The Golden Rule as a way to fully succeed.
He cautioned youngsters of the challenging life that lay ahead,
And to learn from mistakes and pursue productive lives instead.
His long-time and ever faithful Bailiff saw to his every need,
Taking care of all details no matter how small the deed.
Blind justice was a vision in his mind as he balanced the scale.
You see, the judge was legally blind, working with the aid of braille!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
"ALL RISE! THIS HONORABLE COURT IS NOW OPEN AND IN SESSION!"
Th' court room wuz his domain, bailiffin' wuz his profession!
No one dared hornswoggle him in that hallowed room.
Should any nonsense occur, he'd surely lower th' boom!
Usin' th' butts uv his forty-fours, he'd gavel th' court to order.
An' he pounded agin an' agin to quell any cheeky disorder!
The wisened old judge tolerated th' bailiff with some bemusement.
His antics provided folks with local lore an' amusement!
He'd served th' venerable judge fer years on th' western frontier.
His steely-eyed glare filled grovelin' scalawags with fear!
Hoss thieves, cattle rustlers an' drunks he'd seen galore,
An' desperadoes, train an' bank robbers by th' score!
Warn't no guns er bowie knives 'lowed thro' th' front door,
An ya better aim fer th' spittoon an' not mess up his floor!
B'fore enterin' his sacred realm ya'd better wipe off yer boots.
He didn't take no guff frum any of them hell-raisin' galoots!
Adjournment wuz gaveled fer th' old feller an' is talked uv today.
He met th' Big Judge In The Sky, on th' cold floor where he lay.
Seems he vigorously gaveled his rods, a stray slug hit his head!
Th' judge couldn't cope with that an' he too keeled over dead!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)