Long Legality Poems
Long Legality Poems. Below are the most popular long Legality by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Legality poems by poem length and keyword.
Triumph of immortality over mortality!
Resurrection of Jesus, we commemorate fondly;
Reassessing all virtues, who, gave new morality...!
Romans and Jews found Jesus pattern of legality,
Paving firm foundations for new values that could lead promptly;
Triumph of immortality over mortality!
Pontius Pilate, with his decorum and formality,
Handed over the savior of mankind nonchalantly,
Reassessing all virtues, who, gave new morality...!
Crowds, who sang hosanna once, now in rough brutality,
Demanded death, though heavenly Father designed so kindly;
Triumph of immortality over mortality!
They crushed him; crucified him with all abnormality,
Buried him in deepest of grave; as though very rudely;
Reassessing all virtues, who, gave new morality...!
Jesus knew, his divine father would reverentially,
Resuscitate him and reassure him so graciously;
Triumph of immortality over mortality!
Reassessing all virtues, who, gave new morality...!
16 April 2022
Years ago a marriage couldn’t
Join two different races.
Still some people hate
What that legality embraces.
Now today, the fight goes on
With gays who want to wed.
Those with hatred in their hearts
Protest these laws instead.
Why anybody cares what others do
Remains a mystery;
But loudmouths love to spew their wrath,
With precedents in history.
Today we’ve learned our president
Has made a risky move,
Endorsing same-sex marriage,
Which so many won’t approve.
I heartily applaud him
And I’m glad he took a stand.
Perhaps this huge announcement
Means that change is close at hand.
For those who argue natural law
Should not let gays unite,
They have to face that fact, to most
This is a human right.
A same-sex couple in your midst
Will not pose any threat;
And if you choose ignoring them,
They wouldn’t mind, I’d bet.
So kudos to Obama
For his brave and bold decision.
Equality is closer now
To what we can envision.
Through faith, hope, and love, we will find true meaning.
Whether it's slavery, the holocaust, or ethic cleaning;
Whether by captivity, by extermination, or by lynching;
Atrocities have haunted mankind since our earliest beginning.
Many may contend that Jim Crow died and is being resurrected, on the rise.
Perhaps the question remains whether or not, like Satan, he went in disguise.
Is it not evermore true that if mankind fails to learn from history,
is it not equally true that we are condemned to repeat it?
Resurrection applies only to something which has died.
Anything less than fatal blows will allow hatred to survive.
The fact that Jim lives doesn't mean that many have not tried.
That is, tried to put him to death; rid him forever from society.
In most localities, he is dead, but only in the realms of legality.
By habit and acceptable societal behaviors, he continues to live.
Yes, there are far fewer acts of inhuman lynching like Emmitt Till.
In many hearts, Jim Crow's presence and deadly stench are not killed.
Busing, public integration, and housing policy did not really kill him.
The light bulbs have been changed, but the new ones are rather dim.
There are entities like animals that hibernate until a new season.
Like the devil in disguise in Eden, he lurks until there is a reason.
Jim is like a lifeless idol empowered by the hate and bigotry of mortals.
Or like a 'Scare Crow' in a garden to keep unwanted fowls from morsels.
Jim Crow is empowered by lies and ignorance; and he thrives on false narratives. Regardless of color, continent, country, or culture, we must fight against Jim Crow with our lives.
040722PSCtest, U Choose, Anthony Biaanco.12P
Theme chosen: #14, The Resurrection of Jim Crow
Burden of proof lies squarely on the accused’s name;
The filer can exaggerate and overstate any imagined claim.
In Minnesota, Judges are forced to approve nearly every filing,
Driven by social movements and organizations beguiling.
Oft approved ex parte, temporarily, a future hearing scheduled,
This scorch the earth weapon, leaves most divorce issues settled.
Children are torn from their nuclear parent’s loving arms,
Under the malevolent guise they are protected from atomic harms.
Homes change hands before the ink dries on an order penned,
Leaving the respondent in the streets on their sore hind-end.
Given ten minutes under a Sherriff deputy’s mindful and glaring guard,
One can enter the house to take an armful never to return to the yard.
Future proceedings can take many months and in some cases years,
Simple items forgotten will not be given until the MTA clears.
Falsely accused, you’d think it would not ever get worse,
Until one discovers the plaintiff also firmly grasps strings on the purse.
Given days to mastermind and execute the unfolding of events,
The accuser never looks back considering recompense.
The use of OFP’s in divorce is not only legal,
Attorneys are even encouraged to inveigle.
No laws exist to punish use outside of the scope of legality,
Lawyers readily encourage the OFP’s use as a simple formality.
Even when the order is rescinded or released upon first hearing,
The status quo has been set in favor of the plaintiff endearing.
The state says they would like to minimize conflict in divorce,
Out of fear for real abuse victims they simply will not change course.
But, the moral of “The Boy Who Cries Wolf” ends in his grisly death.
Protect real victims, punish the abuse of the OFP use and breadth.
Just half a meter away is this semi-covered female
so fertile for a score of trees to grow on
smooth and soft, curvy and oily
a rich landscape for my longings to become playful penguins.
Her body’s map has been possessed by my hunger
and a split second is too long for our disappearance from door to bed
as the tiles beat my wardrobe to claim the auction of our flying clothes.
Fierce and aggressive, every act is industrialized for pain to taste sweet
a little harm is not unhealthy, let a smile show from the thorn’s tip
biting but patting softly; modesty, the only crime
pinning down and licking through, respect, out of bound
sharp pinching and slow tickling; legality is completely unwanted
summing up an erotic wrestling as intimate as the coiling of wires.
Tightly cornered ‘V’ in front, roundly curved ‘W’ behind
I gradually rise erectly, facing the clouds from under
to honour this beautiful respect towards the pattern of the english alphabets.
Muscles gliding over muscles
joints clicking in a uniform rhythm
produced fluids, keeping both souls sticky
love on stage and now in full display.
Sounds from raging hearts, dancing furniture, bullied foam
all in one competitive race.
Skins on fire for desires to completely burn
so hard, gets inside so wet;
everything else is then subjected to a bouncing and stretching symphony.
It is nothing but refreshing
to abuse our privacy and change the colours of its secrecy;
mourn all night my love and let our instincts ride this luxurious yacht.
Published: 6/25/2020
For the Sensuality Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One
Placement: 2nd (7/1/2020)
Excuse me, dear friends!
I would like to learn about
something important to me
that keeps my mind rather busy
and makes me look a little bit silly
Would you help me know
if there are still some idiots who are
against color people in our time and why,
and if something like that
isn't supposed to be a crime,
On the other hand, I would like to know
whether or not it is only I who witness
that a great number of whites
go to the beaches in summers
to change the color of their white skin
to light or dark brown
lying in the sun
And also,
there's one more thing I need to know,
Aren't those dumb whites afraid
to look like color people
when their skin turn light or dark brown,
or with their stupid thoughts and approaches
to be like a real clown?
Maybe, they might think that
by looking down on color people
they will be crowned with a crown
on their heads
Such a way of thinking fills me with dreads
Excuse me, frieinds! Say it again.
Do you mean to say they don't care about the legality
as well as their responsibilities to humanity,
and on the beaches in summers
they just aim to develop
their amphibious capability and peculiarity
that once their ancestors had
Now I see better the reality of their stupidity
Thanks a lot for your help
Our stay in the
mushrooming subdivision
Ashley Springs
can achieve full ownership only
by meeting the developer’s
latest requirements...
six bushes and two deciduous trees,
keep your garbage can in the garage.
Such restrictions have put the whole
neighborhood in the throes of unrest.
Gears are clashing even as I write.
To sully the community spirit
in this way evokes emotions which
attempt to sidestep legality.
We more flexible newbies,
about thirty in number now
are pitted against
the established oldies
who could grandfather out of some of
the constraints based on length of residence.
Solution? It’s our property now!
Mr. Developer. Your raw power gains nothing
by the forcing of personal preference.
written May 27, 2018
Walking or wading in water
Along life's way
I could sense a pull toward
Something...no someone
The life-laden leaves
Drew out breath from my being
I grew greater in the moment
If not for the pleasure of knowing
.....who or what I would be seeing
The birds of the air gathered
In a location, around the noun
Light gathered at a spot and shone
As if there were no sky or ground
Closer and closer I come to the moment
Revelation would soon be mine
I would know and be known
By something or someone above humanity
....divine
I heard movement and looked left
I saw Him, if only for a glance
I knew Him, and He knew me
But someone smeared my screen
............I awoke without a second chance
To possess the image
Was that what I was pushing for
To own experience, unique to me
Was I placing my identity in the natural
Trying to prove value on what others see
......coming through my creativity???
Stupid distractions with magnetic attractions
Pulling and fooling the bird in flight
I don't want to be grounded in order be founded
In the legality of level-headed laws...that bite
.......and eat the heart of man
LOVE is all I want
........all circumstantial evidence is distraction
The End
Written by Trudy Schrader on 11-6-2018
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- In memory of the La Vegas shooting victims –
The touch of imperfectionality on some naked truth.
It burns deep into the flesh of happiness,
Yet stands smiling at the laxity of frailty.
A drop of legality would have seared the ice.
Some degree of excess consciousness couldn't avail indiscretion.
So selfish I was, struck the baton to revealing.
Tore down the garment of wonderfulness.
If only it had wrath a shield against grievous consequences.
Strayed from the bareness of my palms, my cherished secret.
Caved in the passing-by of history, are acts and actions I adore.
Regrets bid me awareness but I annex consolation in satisfaction.
Springs of flowing emotions seals my loosed heart.
I'm hung to the persistence of negativity.
Sunk into contentions so absurd to gamble worth for kinds.