Long Examiner Poems
Long Examiner Poems. Below are the most popular long Examiner by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Examiner poems by poem length and keyword.
Kamala Harris, even worse than 'Sloppy Joe'
Hey, ho ~ They both gotta go!
Biden's waist-deep in corruption
Soon to come, a legal tidal-wave eruption
As for his mental and physical fitness
One or two video clips are enough to witness
More than a snake has Harris wiggles
when defining 'culture' with inane giggles *
It seems that her goulash-like explanations
may just impress rocks and crustaceans
So get thee to the elections in 2024 for sure
who needs four more years of these clowns to endure
_______________________________________________
*"Culture is a reflection of our moment and our time. And
present culture is the way we express how we feel about
the moment. And we should always find time to express
how we feel about the moment. That is a reflection of joy.
Because, you know... it comes in the morning," Harris said
with a laugh.
~ Washington Examiner, Brady Knox, July, 07, 2023.
WHAT IF TIFFE MARRIED ZIFF AND WHAT IF?...
GOOD EVEnING!
Now what if?
Tiffe married Ziff
And McGriff divorced Woodcliff
And what if
I sniff and smell it someone cheating
Someone's being an adulteress
The dead body was frozen
Melted flesh was soft
But the examiner refrozen it
So it was quaff and restiff
No what if this story made sense
This riff of giff what's the meaning of it
Twas a murder movie
Woodcliff murdered Ziff
So he could marry Tiffe
The pleasure garden on mountain eagle
They wed the lodger a story of London Fog
Downhill she's a farmer's wife
Easy virtue blackmail Juno and the paycock
Murder, witness Eistree calling
The skin game say's Mary, whose rich and strange
As number seventeen waltzes from Vienna
The man who knew too much took
the 39 steps
Was he a secret agent sabotage young and innocent
You see the lady vanishes at Jamaica Inn
This murdered wife's name was Rebecca
A foreign correspondent, witness to this was Mr. and Mrs. Smith
Number 13 always tell your wife
So many wife's so many deaths committed
All those poor murdered by Woodcliff
Ahh! it's just from a scene from Alfred Hitchcock??
GOOD NiGHT!
1/26/18
by James Edward Lee Sr.
The Anchor in the Room
I sat across the polished desk, a storm behind my eyes,
Trying to hold the steady mask, the Sovereign’s disguise.
But as the questions started and the air grew thin and tight,
I felt the old familiar pull of shadow and of light.
The tears began to gather, spilling soft against my will,
While I fought to find the words to prove my spirit’s standing still.
But then I looked across the space and found a different sight,
Not a cold examiner or a judge of what is right.
I saw a face of kindness, like a hearth-fire in the snow,
With a warmth that gave permission to let the sorrow flow.
A quiet, human comfort in the crinkle of her gaze,
That reached across the distance through the suffocating haze.
It wasn't just an interview, a tally, or a test,
But a moment where a weary soul was allowed a bit of rest.
Her smile was like an anchor dropped within a raging sea,
Acknowledging the person and the pain inside of me.
For a second, all the ridicule and the ghosts of my past debt,
Were silenced by a stranger that my spirit finally met.
I felt the vulnerability become a bridge of grace,
Reflected in the mercy of that soft and caring face.
It gave me hope for futures where the labor isn't grim,
Where the light of human kindness doesn't ever have to dim.
I walked out with a beating heart, no longer quite so small,
Knowing she saw the woman, and she didn't mind the fall.
The path is still a mystery, the answer yet to come,
But the freezing cold inside of me has started to go numb.
I found a seed of promise in that office, in that chair,
Because a warm and comforting soul was waiting for me there.
-Debra
The human being
(also referred throughout history
as 'long pig' and 'hairless goat'
in the case of younger specimens)
Observing the anatomy and skeleton,
one can see that the human animal
after death young tender meat.
The large central pelvis and broad shoulder blades
also interfere with achieving perfect cuts.
There are advantages to this however,
especially due to the fact that the specimen girl
will weigh between 100-200 pounds,
easily manipulated by one man with proper leverage.
Controlled environments like institutions or jails before.
Health and diet to outward appearances maintained.
Humans are not very kind to the dead here it is why you are.
You are an unknown to me
thus subject to an enormous range of diseases,
infections, chemical imbalances,
and poisonous bad habits, all typically decreasing with age.
I personally prefer calm firm caucasian females
in their early teens.
These are 'ripe'.
But the saw varies from cut to cut,
and again there it is a very large herd to choose from.
The M.E.)
Medical Examiner will need a fairly large room and sufficient space
in which to work (an interior location is suggested)
and a large table for a butcher's block.
A central overhead support will need to be chosen
or installed ahead of time to hang the young body from.
Large tubs or barrels for blood
and waste trimmings should be convenient,
and a water source close by.
Most of the work can be done with a few simple tools.
Sharp, clean short and long bladed knives,
a cleaver or hatchet, and a hacksaw and ribspreaders.
Body Preparation requires plenty of water.
This helps flush the system,
purging stored toxins and bodily wastes,
as well as making bleeding and cleaning easier.
This one I will call Jane doe 007
was found at a bar stunned into insensitivity.
Sharp unexpected blows to the head put her at rest
quite is best, tranquilizers being recommended
If this is not possible without exciting the body
and causing a longer struggle (which then pumps
a greater volume of blood
and secretions such as adrenaline throughout the body
A single bullet through the middle of the forehead
exiting the back of the skull here did nice.
For what ever reason her companion is here right beside her.
Is is called murder suicide I think it is two suicides.
Whom ever goes last gets the cellophane wrap.
A love twisted in a high school romance,
Both fixated on puppy dog eyes,
Skipping classes followed by lies,
Predictions to never be seperated,
Only as much as parents tolerated,
They would run if given the chance,
Upon a mellow river rusted a louring mill,
Dim lit repairs by a scarecrow of a man,
Alongside the river it was a small span,
As skeletal hands of the mill snag floating logs,
Rising sun now pierces mountain fogs,
A cold chill replaced by warmth that begins to fill,
Brackish waters breed fish teeming angling,
A plaid retiree toats an unknowing burden,
For upon the rocks a body rolled in curtain,
Fumbling hands dial the sheriff's office,
Resulting in a stomach turned nauseous,
Thoughts race from torture to strangling,
Students murmor rumors over empty chairs,
As sherriff pulls students for questioning,
While a plea for help at a parent's beckoning,
Cries heard aloud through echoing halls,
Answers from questions expose a plethora of flaws,
Tensions tighten because this small town cares,
Foghorns sound as headlights cross beams,
Moonlit mist hides a livid discord,
Only witness, a fisherman shipboard,
Rocks shuffle around steadfast feet,
Argument ends in the shore's peat,
Unwanted blood spills ending young dreams,
Narrow light leaves a lifeless body luminous,
Examiner removes an entombed clue,
Beneath a fingernail a piece of paper folded in two,
Unfolded the bloodied paper reveals vastly,
An agent must be summoned lastly,
For murders like this may be numerous.
Her body temp is at ten degrees the coroner said.
He lifted my lifeless hand and I let if flop down by my head.
That tears it, I thought. I might actually be dead.
There is no sign of life or shake of her head?
Medical examiner felt a need to say, and thus said.
So they cut my chest open and out gushed some red.
I was glad they did not do that back on my bed.
I thought feeling nothing, rather amused now instead.
My puffy bloated stomach showed I had been overfed.
Proof is my treadmill with a totally unused tread.
I was lead to heaven by my big cousin Weird Zed.
A sour stinky old man who had never been wed.
He came to collect me on a double Moped.
Heaven had the most luxurious inviting bed.
For once in my afterlife I was glad to be dead.
Only sixty-eight, said my moronic cousin ‘Lil Jed.
I watched my funeral with my other deceased cousin Fred.
I enjoyed seeing my relatives do cartwheels on my bed.
Now they are arguing ‘bout who has to clean my shed.
Verifying one thing. I truly might be utterly dead.
My mother
- Subash Khanal
My mother wakes the morning every day
The horizon with the sun rises with her smile
The birds get forage before the sun comes up
All domesticated get fed before she eats
By being my own future
She finds my waste of time
I believe her as examiner of time
I think her as a mirror of time
My mother,
The life I have to read is yours
The life I have to learn is yours
You who feel full when I feel full of my stomach
You who get your dream when I relax on my sleeping
When I laugh
You can laugh by hiding your mountain of pain
You are not ignorant without book knowledge
I am ignorant even with bookish knowledge
My mother,
I wish to live life like you
I wish to become as wise as you
Although she urged her husband Job
To "curse God and die",
Was this said in hatred?
More likely, with a cry.
She too lost her livelihood.
She felt her fibre fray
When all her precious children
We're suddenly taken away.
The man she fell in love with
Was lost in sickness for a while.
With so much grief and trauma
How could either of them smile?
Some conclude that she lacked faith.
Others say she offered Job no support.
But before we pass on judgement
Let's consider a little thought...
When their trials were over
God blessed them both abundantly.
If she was bad in God's eyes
He wouldn't have blessed her - would he?
God, the examiner of hearts, knows best
What's truly behind each word, each action.
How thankful we can feel that he understands
The pain in each reaction.
So before we draw conclusions
Based on the limits of what eyes see,
Let's remember deeper things go on
In the hearts of people like you and me.
“It did not look like suicide to me,” Lee, the novice detective said.
“It was suicide,” her partner stated firmly. “Open and shut case. Solved.”
The last seventeen cases he had solved were suicides.
“But she was stabbed in the back eight times,” Lee protested.
Her partner coughed loudly and indicated they should go outside to discuss it.
“How are four perfect x’s wounds in her back suicide?” she asked him.
“Have you ever thrown knives?” He asked her.
She shook her head ‘no’.
“She was a great knife thrower,” he said. “She just threw them up in the air and laid down.”
Lee stared at him. Was he serious?
“The ceiling was only nine foot high,” she argued.
She decided to speak to the medical examiner until she discovered that he and her partner were twins.
Eight days until retirement! He thought.
Eight days until I get another partner she thought.
Determined to re-open his last seventeen cases.
This is what the local examiner preaches
Lynchings, or killing someone by hanging, historically were mostly used by whites against black men in the South beginning in the late 19th century, according to the NAACP.
Below my reply in comment
How they twist words to suit narrative, lynch mobs were a common practice in Ireland and many countries all over the world, so selectively do you promote division black or white this article is racist bias in content promoting hate
Liberal has a new agenda when it comes to the truth being told
for what value it holds someone has to correct fools
lynching is as old as warfare itself virtually