Long Jurors Poems
Long Jurors Poems. Below are the most popular long Jurors by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jurors poems by poem length and keyword.
…the seeds of neo-Nazism are germinating
Markus Nierth, former mayor of Tröglitz, Germany 2015
Germany’s rock candy windows and cookie like shingles make seeing the oven inside impossible. At first, the obsessive compulsive cleanliness of Nuremberg’s post-WWII streets is a joy. For a child of the melting pot, born after The Big One, it’s painful to recall the grimmer aspects of the Third Reich with their proposed eugenics. Nuremberg [rebuilt] roots in an elitist past hiding behind half-timbered houses of wattle and daub. Once the seat of the Holy Roman Empire seeped in power, then, a base for Hitler’s wunderkind rallies—now a soul-blighted bloom, a minor stop on the tourist trail.
Street walking pedestrians—the silent middle, staid, detached—stroll or bike along paths, immersed in white dreams. The pogroms of terror, stolen homes, and bridges made from Jewish Cemetery stones lie beneath layers of pristine paint and plaster. The Jews victimized for centuries, and the war trials, a mere subtext to tour guide chatter.
xenophobia
tamped down like an ash banked fire
waits to rise again
on a bellows breath of rage
spray painted on railroad cars
The site of my pilgrimage, The Palace of Justice—walled in panels of ashen mahogany—retains a dour mien. Judges, jurors and those to be tried, still use this hall. After-images of skeletal camp dweller and vain glorious generals rise wraith-like from the polished surfaces, paneling, pews, and copings. Greek God’s glower. A bronze crucifix castes judgment on all who pass: God fearing, or atheist. Justice is not present; horrors are not passed and conscience is now presented to the world as a fanatic in a suicide vest.
First Published in Artificium UK 2016
i strive for you baby
Justice raped by a State of Wetbacks
Justice be a Commanders first love
You are stuttering cap that bull, you give a full account
What render aide? aint that a law?
Wait look at the video tape
Well DA said I was a special case.
Hey its ok Dan, hell man I been up there with you
Looking hard studying ever face of my Jurors
My fury, my fault, I still fall hard Im sorry Sheriff's
S.O. be paid and served with high respects
Jefferson be a racist mofo in my book
I pass by you like Soputhern gentlemen do
Respect? well Sir i carry a sword too
And I remember her, yea 911 operator a hot line
And The Captain hes hell on wheels
trust me you dont want to be on his badside
I learned this the hard way
In cell 1 segergation 4 mnths
Seashells were awesome back then
My cousin Amys daughter drowned to death
My mom got my kids back from the state
Oh yea I was in 7 highspeed chases
And trust Justice she always served me well
In the hollows of my soul when it rains with leaden sadness,
And the clouds gather like grey jurors around me,
I weave an umbrella from the glimmer of a dimmed dream,
From that pure laughter, saved from under the tempest's sway.
When the rain wanders as tears over the inner stones,
I shelter my heart with a dance of merry flame,
With the memory of a first love, or the first spring,
And I turn each drop into a note of delicate symphony.
I let the drops of yearning fall into the outstretched palm of hope,
Which turns agonies into pearls that adorn me,
Making from every rain, a tapestry that weaves me stronger,
From joys fleeting, a curtain that guards against untold times.
And when the storm bellows as only the cold wind knows,
I respond with my umbrella woven from yesterday's smiles,
It breaks the waves, turning each thunder into a blessing,
There, beneath my multicolored shield, I hide and find myself.
In gusts growing fiercer, drawn with a bow across the curtain of the day,
I search the sky for a ray to warm me, to dry the clouds of sighs,
And wrapped in the mantle made from the fabric of "once was",
I no longer feel it dripping in me, I just feel new, illuminated spaces growing.
Each cloudburst in my heart now brings truths on wings of song,
Beneath my playful umbrella, joys become the armor I wear,
In the crackle of doubt, I catch the courage to laugh with the rain,
And I let myself be drenched by the miracle of life, for each rain washes, purifies, is reborn.
Here, this day, on this inglorious
Field
Thy vain struggles will count no
Valour.
All hope now abandoned,
Imminent defeat unconcealed;
Erstwhile countenance display
Such waxen, languid pallor.
Surround by your dwindling
Forces
Ye will but sadly find...
That the stout keep of your
Valiant fortress is all but breached,
Once strong foundations failing -
Wherest badly undermined!
For a rigorous examination beckons
ye;
Stood before impassioned jurors
Chosen from the feared and all
Powerful families of the ignoble
Medici.
Black curtains drawn back from
Deep reveals
That look out over the enlightened
Years...
Where conceals...
Hidden between leafs of peremptory
Decree:-
A blight spread upon these lands,
Inflicted from Romes insidious
Plans -
That cause stain upon the
Renaissance of a golden century!
When clapping thunder breaks and
Brazen lightening clashes
Still I would know ye again:
A pounding, frenzied reflex devoid
Of all Godly purpose -
Detached from any amount of
Blame!
For I have sought ye out, O lowly
Meretrix;
Heaping upon you with bondage
Enforced through servitude and
Shame;
And I, O lowly Meretrix,
I...hereby command thy name.
A fastidious Advocate of intellectual
Character
Shallst I elect,
He who be a practitioner of
Theological proposal unrefrained,
To represent you -
Raised from the rank files of the
Dead and slain!
A public gallery, wherest seated,
Ghostly phantasms
That I purposefully select;
And for a judge - A deathly one:
Ill measured, worshipfully detached,
Beneath it all,
And hopelessly arcane.
This "Innocent" fool, dressed in
Guise of highest ecclesiastical
Enforcer,
Perpetuated a medieval Inquisition,
Both protracted and prolonged,
That openly boasted and rejoiced
In its zealous slaughter!
Thereby spawned a terrible edict -
"Ad Extirpanda":-
Cannon law that advocates the
Use of "Legitimate torture"!
Know thee also, Meretrix, the Pius
Pontiff,
Heaven sent,
Who in his greater wisdom
Convened over
The council of Trent:
Four hundred years spanning
Across a Reformations fears;
Reaffirmed when Pope John,
In reflective reiteration,
Was heard to chillingly hiss:
"What was...Still is"!
TO BE CONTINUED...
because we arrested a suspect
he must be guilty.
the complainant said that there was no perpetrator,
that’s what the report said
in clean boxes
and stamped ink certainty.
no room for hesitation there—
no trembling human maybe,
no “we might be wrong”
no blood on the margins of procedure.
just a name turned into a case number
and a number turned into guilt,
like the typewriter never learned doubt
and never wanted to.
wanting, no needing a conviction this opportunity
may not come again,
causing harm to the complainant never mattered,
like perfume on a locked cell door.
and everyone nods
because it’s easier that way
than looking too long
at the wrong face in the mirror of authority.
because after the report was written
the truth never mattered.
and truth is just another signature
at the bottom of a form
nobody reads twice,
not even the ones who wrote it,
not even the ones
who have to live then die inside of it.
and the defendant given only two weeks
to prepare for trial,
the state attorney introducing an empty paper bag
that caught the attention of the jury,
without ever being opened.
while telling the jurors that the burden of proof
fall's on the defendant to prove
that he is innocent of those heinous charges.
Didn't you know that in the new age America
court cases are decided
by rioters and intimidators
congressional race baiters
getting their rocks off on division and skin tone.
The jurors' box has turned into a carton of quaking eggs...
the media (those harlots of hype and hate)
spreading their corporate-sponsored legs
for the sake of ratings.
Tenderizing the meat of facts
force-feeding the nation, the fat and gristle of
irrational emotion.
Didn't you know that this new age America has
"woken" straight into the whirling eye of chaos-
an anti-white and new age blindness.
The flavor of rage
Red sa@@shes
S + Way from your cheeeks
b.l.u.r.r.i.n.g your
f+Hair skin
shineee In the DARKNEST
FLAshhhH of
s*e*q*u*i*n*e*d Light
ur eyes
I cant seem to find
UUUUUU
Shimmmmmmying in the BRunette
C Peeking
oVer=== SUBSTITUTE windows
T h e s e con jurors """sing"""
UTT er vo-ice
of DIS&&&&TRACTION
B cuz ....... I whirlllll!
In;;;;;;;;;to
O-u-t of con-trol
trOUBLE
Ant Sy JiTt ers
Milk^^^shake m e l t s
in>>>>to your ChASsis
po..........king
my stom ache j # uices
I CANT FIND^^^^^ my legggggs
How can
EYEcandy d+ance
With((((((Red Sashes
June 21, 2022
Brian Strand Premier Contest
Jurors mishandle the facts why can't we?
Does it hurt when you hear others laugh,
or do you think they are laughing at you?
Growing the pain deep inside.
On your mind grows a hurt you can't hide.
What will happen to you if you talk?
This crime to each other goes every long day undescribed.
People who go to school to learn how to think,
then come back to the home to red ink.
Remembered control over they to you is the plan.
If you cannot speak they to you your mind they have gained.
Unable to speak few children can think.
Mom or dad a teacher that knew most don't have.
Detached from emotion this is the place where you hide.
Each to a room none can find.
They say the cage is invisible,
But I can’t even hear the bars rattle,
How ignorant can I be?
I squint;
Peering at others clawing chains I can’t see—
I wonder;
Is my sight broken, or just clean?
I ask, why can’t she be?
They stare—
as though it was clear;
“It’s what’s missing between her legs,”
And what could that mean?
I laugh, unsure if they were joking;
She doesn’t—
My tongue lays heavy inside my mouth.
She’d been convicted by unseen jurors,
in a trial she was born into;
Where I thought I was asking,
I was only echoing.
His cries pierce through knots
of testosterone—
I hear his pain,
I reach out but my arm pulls back
when I hear:
“Now we know what’s between his legs,”
And what’s
that
got to do with it?
I can’t see the cage, the chains,
And how visceral it is for them to keep sane,
But how torturous—
A soul that is bound.
From here, I can only
picture—
The pain you feel,
But I believe it is real;
This is quiet place I stand.
June 2 Faith in God Bible Meditations Based on Job 5-7
Key Verse – Job 5:8 I would seek unto God, and unto God would I commit my cause.
FAITH IN GOD WHOM WE SEEK
God is Whom we seek against confusion
He delivers us from corruption’s oppression
While strengthening our faith to conquer doubt’s aggression…
We need His direction as we press on with His compassion.
God is Whom we seek against adversaries
He secures us as we hope in His victories
While increasing our faith to face worries…
We need His triumph as we confound doubt-caused miseries.
God is Whom we seek against false judgement
He teaches us His truth with wise discernment
While instructing our faith to obey His commandment…
We need His counsel as we strive for prayer-accomplishment.
God is Whom we seek against enviousness
He checks us of heart’s greediness
While reinforcing our faith to subdue greediness…
We need His grace as we enjoy contentment’s blessedness.
God is Whom we seek against terrors
He awakens us from fears of grievous horrors
While upholding our faith to overcome arrogant jurors…
We need His guidance as we behold ourselves along His Scripture-mirrors.
God is Whom we seek against sinful anger
He forgives us from confessed sins that linger
While protecting our faith to fight pride’s hunger…
We need His love as we share the Gospel midst those with dirty finger.
God is Whom we seek against downfall
He encloses us away from frustration’s wall
While checking our faith to win over trust that’s small…
We need His presence as we serve Him, inspired by His call.
June 2, 2025