Long Plaintiff Poems
Long Plaintiff Poems. Below are the most popular long Plaintiff by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Plaintiff poems by poem length and keyword.
In the case of life Love turns from plaintiff to defendant
Justice the judge, is impartial throughout the hearing
Love left to plea for it’s mere existence
Justice in the process of rearing the ugly verdict
You called upon Wisdom, says Justice
Which you considered to be your greatest ally
However Wisdom proved to be your downfall
Because Wisdom does not reside with you
In fact Folly is your greatest ally
You , Love, Called upon compassion
Compassion could not offer you solace
You had received all Compassion could give
You gave it away at every chance
Love, you then blamed betrayal for your failings
Betrayal proved that also it was never in your way
Moreover it was working in your interest at every turn
Only hiding it’s motives to protect your constituents
Justice says, I must say you are the greatest charity worker
You work in the interest of no one and in the interest of everyone
Your logic is error and your error is logic
A true contradiction of yourself
You live on a path between Triumph and Tragedy
Taking either route as you go through Time
You say Happiness is your goal
You say that Hope will lead you there
Have in Time, Hope can prove true or false
Then you claim you then are the goal in yourself
But you have already proved to be a contradiction
What then can be said about you Love
I say you make the greatest case, with the least evidence
There is your virtue and your vice
Form:
I walked outside in the scorching heat moving papers and turning over pages just looking for that one line that goes back to the middle ages. The search was long, the documents were strong and the paragraph sits at the bottom with the exact words about the controversial land. Moses was deceased, Joshua was bequeathed and mimiram joined the crew when her leprosy
came through.
I traveled to Vatican City to view the writing form the thirteenth century there were piles and piles of them standing in a row but I had nowhere to go and I could not move any of them.
I had to view them with a magnifying glass or the whole thing would have fallen apart .I walked along the Vatican city underground and there were museums all around with documents that goes back to the creation of the earth but they were all sealed up in dirt.
Something caught my eyes from the back and I continue to move my eyeball over the lines to see what historical data I could find. I just wanted to fit the pieces together until I could uncover the secrecy, and just when I thought my long search was done a cockroach crawl up from the corner and there it was staring at me, the very line that illustrate my dignity. A thousand cameras pointed at me from every angle, I could not touch or move a thing until the vessel I had memorized the plaintiff hymn.
The Priest kept juggling on the floor and the Roman soldiers keep asking for more, the theater was where it all began with a harp a violin and a harmonica riding on the gondola and singing a song. They were all playing for me as the discovery breaks the bonds of history to uncover an age-old mystery, the authentic crowd docked on the other side while I continue to hold up my pride and the gondola drift.
I try to fit the piece together so I went on a hurricane ride and landed in Peru and made my way to the city of Cuzco to connect the dots and explore the salt mine of maras and when I got what I wanted I made my way to France and visit the Mount Blanc and made a bond with Eifel tower. When the research was over, I clocked in nine hundred million dollars for a Zig Zag line and a marking on a cave that was divine.
And so the evidence was right in front of me to prove the murder in the first degree and a global fraud in the second degree. You must make haste and come and see me.
Courts oblivious, on blissful high,
Poor plaintiffs on a long wait die,
The system still stays put
On same age-old input,
Mothballed, the pending cases lie.
Perfection, a vague search,
Totter in wobbly lurch,
Load of cases on deathbed lie,
The price paid for delays sky-high.
_______________________________
Happenings |11.05.2023| justice
Poet’s note: Research reveals that some of the oldest cases are pending for over 60 years, almost a lifetime of an average plaintiff. One might feel, a less than perfect justice is better than the perfect one that takes such a long time. A limerick here tends to lament the pathetic realities. One may note: to bring home its point a limerick tends to exaggerate and so need not be taken on the face value. This is the fourth in the series: Your slip is showing, Milord.
Unlike the world the mind of Truth is not for sale
the spirit of its word is freely shared
and gathering together whose hearts have cared
within affections warmth our souls regale
For love does recognize those who are its own
and to embrace within its arms all caught
and forsakest each other willest not
open welcome by invitation to its home
So her gleaming brighness doth upon all shine
and all who look upon her know her fair
wisdom and justice for all does share
and fertile are her passages of time
and within the bride and groom do become one
where hearts enjoined the work of God do prove
that to free those enslaved to madness move
where the works of hatred can be undone
At the cities gates her voice appeals
that to turn aside to wisdom taught
submission to understanding in your thought
the sources of true knowledge she reveals
Our hearts are the plaintiff before the judge
where does show our contempt or praise to be
our actions display only what our heart can see
whether its instruction did we bid or grudge
For all do stand before the court of Life
within its time all thoughts and actions etched
framed within its moments lives are sketched
if one has weilded justice or the knife
For all have seen the truth of justice and her scales
with impartiality her weights are ever seen
actions of your heart determine kind or mean
those who listen to instruction she never fails
Those without a home she's given cover
fed and clothed has she whom those had none
bid those who wish to share in love to come
benevolence the garments that clothe each other
Within ones own heart is lodged our truth of ways
many have sought to hide its full intents
but the full exposure by time its seeds prevents
the thought and deeds recorded by time its days
Examine does ones heart the life of self
and if to the course of love one has been true
for sealed within is all that makes up you
opened will be the book that lays sealed upon its shelf
And we like sands that moving through the glass
what was our future has fashioned now our past
but what is us is in its scroll now firmly cast
and saved until he who unseals the graves of everlast
COPYRIGHT © 2011 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Think deep and mull over your every sin,
Look unto mind's mirror, critical, keen
To wash your every single evil clean,
Confess, your true self’s confidence to win.
You are the plaintiff, you are the witness,
The defence lawyer are you, and the judge,
Harm there's none to come clean and to confess,
Need there be none to feign, nor ever fudge.
O beware still of that old impostor
That pretends to be what he never is,
To mislead you, he being an actor
Will pose: child at times or parent to please.
Have you ever noticed his hidden guilt?
Not once has he donned robes of an adult.
Yet, if nothing works, just come back to me,
Forget the world; come to me just to be.
_______________________________________
A man is torn apart by the machinations of his ego. His conscience is nigh but crushed. And then he hears a voice from his lady love: Forget all this pursuit of becoming; come to me and just be. The sonnet allows itself an extra couplet.
Sonnets | 02.03.06, revised Feb 2023 |
I knew my ancestry and my dad was a joiner,
But verged on disowning my mum for labour,
Not married in history yet throbbing with spark,
Love, truth, kindness fibered the gelled dark.
A stunner - intelligent, muscular but sensitive,
The royal in me saw the people as plaintiff,
As steering the vile lark of determining troughs,
In a grass-roots democracy to nullify the toffs.
Prolific at speeches, education never lacked,
Peeking as child into the ear in discern I jacked,
I knew nothing was unproven, cleanliness won,
Joules inside quenched the human sown son.
In the health profession I beamed, overcame, won,
Differences waged exacted to desecrate the sum -
Poor, minority, stealthy and dragon ignored asunder,
No equality known to hook the solid, base shelter.
Mobile, but wherever I tread met haters and lovers,
Pranced about suckered by vulgar ruling bearers;
Taught children life and followers’ carers’ quick,
Stead ahead hailed by the people as their wick.
Freedom held my blink until shown as the trait -
Real by weight for the sick to crop myself as bait.
Therefore human aim, space, time shouted ball,
‘Cos the individual is right, by the pinnacle, wall.
My twelve friends accepted my way and my mind,
Chose to love crook, crank or by altruism behind,
Meant rear - banned and ashore, but fully sentient,
No restorative, candid deeds to strike ambivalent.
People glued came to see me - the Nile drawn,
Dealt troubles without ways n’ routes to spawn;
Yet state and common folks both, themselves,
Killed me for a movement shooting with shelves.
But those many who loved me would never forget,
Forged sail by the integral identity never truly set:
They said afterwards that my substance, way, holds,
It’s life that affords me, not the shined, bold folds.
There was a court case and everything, a slot,
When they asked if I was a god, king, mad, a shot:
Dumb. Bitter I’d gone and cut short, they said I’d live,
Within them in their memory as the cultural give.
My existence is not a point - your location, for always:
It’s not belief in me that matters but it's your sways;
Your life is important and it's your existence that calls,
MLK, Lincoln, Walker ball for the sentient, rugged stalls.
Who am I?
His fingers crashed on the Piano notes,
Like a defiant wave in the Heart of the Ocean…
An Ocean of Music, Rebellion and Symphony.
For where there is Symphony,
There is Harmony…
And where there is Harmony,
There is Beauty and Love.
The intricate melody,
Cried like a Woman Obsessed,
Like her Husband had died,
And now she shrieks for his return…
Music maybe the plaintiff,
But Never the Judge,
Never the Judge…
It sings to us the Story of Tragedies,
Blooming in the Pregnant Bellies
Of Divine Dahlias…
It adds notes and keys,
It adds emotions and memories,
It is the Plaintiff Divine,
But Never the Judge…
True Art cannot Judge,
And the Art that does,
Is Law…Not creativity.
If a boy called Kartik got lost,
The music will say,
Oh, Kartik!
Alas, Kartik!
You are dragging me away from
My happiness and True love.
The music will cry and the music will
Plaint.
But the Music will never find Kartik,
Kartik has moved from the Realm
Of the Heart,
To the realm of the Divine…
The cat had caught the mouse some while ago
a stealthy stalk, a pounce, a single blow
not fatal, for now, the cat would need take joy;
and ease the tiresome day with this new toy.
Feigned indifference, a chance escape, a catch;
oh, silly mouse, for cat you are no match.
Cat cleans a paw, other on the mouse's tail
which will wiggle, struggle, all to no avail.
The feline foe lays on back; without a care
begins to throw the mouse into the air
until even this fun bores our mouser so
and now decides, the mouse he has to go.
The little mouse is shaking, waiting there
the cat humps up her ginger derriere:
a sudden mighty swoosh, a flash of grey;
the mouse looks up and quickly runs away.
The raptor's silent wings to distance flies
accompanied by our moggy's plaintiff cries.
My poems are words with soul - Silent One.
As a monotone morning sketches
charcoal trees under
smoke filled foggy skies,
rain casually falls,
sliding down slate roofs,
causing havoc for traffic
on bustling roads.
Red lights seem to shimmer,
shining through shades of grey,
as the sound of raindrops drip
against my BMW's black bonnet,
my mind drifts nonchalantly,
discarding beeping horns and FM beats.
I ponder
is it an act or is it an art
this thing they label as life,
living with a formula formed and forged
from a mix of experiences and emotions.
I begin to question myself.
(why do we do that?)
I seem to have adopted a sense of vulnerability,
fusing feelings of fragility,
since my hair infused into silver (yes I chose silver over grey) -
something my father warned against.
But I'm not as tough as him,
although he wasn't half the man I am...
Yet what I have seen and heard,
has ultimately made me who I am today
and in all the suffering I have
always searched for the light -
Rumi was right.
Maybe I'm too open minded,
too fair in this field of selfish spirits.
Maybe I'm not loyal enough to my beliefs,
which contradict my moral compass
and philosophical projections,
but I've never claimed to be saint.
My soul is telling me to shut up..
I've always wondered if I'll ever be understood..
At least I understand me - but is that any consolation?
It's not as simple as wisdom accumulating.
Sensitivity of a smile can never be underestimated.
You have to peer beyond the verbal,
non verbal - comprehend the action.
Sometimes I feel unloved,
many times invisible,
yet I seem to come alive in loneliness.
Would I be a plaintiff or defendant
in a court of your judgment?
I will always represent myself.
Words with speech have never been true confessions,
as my thoughts are too deep,
sometimes too unreliable,
that's why I never pen them down -
it scares my soul (who tells me again to shut up).
I wonder if I make sense. Soul calls it nonsense.
Green flashing circle says I can go.
An abrupt end to contemplation.
Sadly grey tones and
tints of tiredness remain.
Simple Musing
8 December 2023
6/7/22
It's the lamest
I hate it
All these snake pits
Another rapist and racist
You name it
Still to this day it's
The same tricks
And same
Don't tell me to watch my language
Why's there always gotta be a bailiff and plaintiff
Always fighting even when you're related
For a reason pictures were created
Dated artwork that was hand painted
Demonstrated that opposition was decapitated
Or incarcerated
The cause of many outrages
It all could not easily be predicted and calculated
As it was stated
This is accurately translated
People often claim it
And blame quick
Sad that many became sick
Surely it can't be fated
I won't stand for it and take it
I'll work to change it
Not afraid of it, but willing to face it
In order for myself and others to make it
For far too long I've waited
At times I really ate it
For being one of the bravest
At my lowest very far from my greatest
Dang it
This is the thanks I get
It's time I shape shift
Unable to trace it
Still can't explain it
All these tired faces
Too many lives taken
Annihilated
In today's world hard to find peace and quiet places
Endless noise
No longer about toys
Maintaining poise
While working with different alloys
Still looking for joy
No need to be coy