Long Verdict Poems
Long Verdict Poems. Below are the most popular long Verdict by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Verdict poems by poem length and keyword.
...His starting point, after much hustling,
was a diner at the edge of the town,
the man who had once built massive bridges
now spent his days at work frying hash browns.
Working for a pittance, day after day,
the only place that would dare give him pay.
About three months into doing such work,
just after the breakfast rush was complete,
he saw a woman enter the diner,
with two young boys, she looked about forty.
Time had done little to Alan’s ex-wife,
Whitney was a queen, hallowed in his sight.
He tried to hide, but Whitney caught a glimpse,
a flabbergasted look clear on her face,
but he made no move to go talk with her,
and she had two kids, could not leave her place.
His heart pounded until Whitney had left,
seeing her moved over felt much worse than death.
She had proclaimed that she would stand with him
when the accusations first had been made,
but the media had taken its toll,
he had watched her resolve drain, day by day,
until the day that the verdict had come,
when he’d been locked up, then it had been done.
She’d started divorce, he didn’t contest,
it was something he could not do to her,
she’d wanted children, normal existence,
all the things that a good woman deserved.
With him in prison, that would be denied,
so he’d signed the papers, and said goodbye.
It had been simple, before he’d been freed,
when he had not had a reason to hope,
now, seeing her, with some other man’s kids,
seemed beyond his ability to cope,
a wound that wouldn’t heal, slowly bleeding,
making him question the point of being.
But the next day, when his shift was over,
and he was walking slowly for the bus,
he saw a G-wagon, and his Whitney,
and his heart started racing then because
there were no kids there, no shield she could use,
confronting this was what he could not do.
But she came forwards, her face fresh with tears,
struggling hard to keep herself composed,
until she broke down, and embraced Alan,
saying, “I’m sorry…how-how could I know?
I’m not sure how to deal with this because
I don’t know why she would do this to us!
“Now I’m left looking at a man I love,
that I abandoned, I’m ashamed it’s true…
We were so happy, but now all I see
is all the things that I’ve taken from you.
The life you deserved, that I thought we’d build,
her lies and my weakness…it’s all been killed.”
CONTINUES IN PART III.
Un-revelling Rivalry
Who am I to speak of historical rivalry I cannot contest
all the clever myriad truths conjectures and refutations
about the two masters the two foes with huge presence
when history acclaim appreciation is subjective personal
up front and back stage up all artistic ins downs and outs
My parachute helicopter mind wants to give first prize to
to Leonardo for free flying inventive rebellious mind and
he helped me with anatomy dissecting corpses and all I can
still smell fragrant formalin preserving miraculous tissues
when I had to learn those medical terms and cut into flesh
But then Michelangelo shares my middle name though I am
no angel but who can proclaim that I may never be biased in
associate vein in quite shallow post-post-modernist anticipation
when the great man also painted in narrative personification
Deluge Drunken Noah Creation of Adam Madonna and Child
Okay family man that I am I resort to holidays with my children
and am so sad to admit that we never so far made it to Rome
sacrilegious or not but how could I pass The Last Judgement
when seeing Sistine Chapel’s altar would alter the verdict
of Ignoramus with leisure time spent on Normandy’s beaches
Well now I recall that trip to Euro Disney when we walked
from Tour Eiffel to the Louvre where I temporarily lost my
little boy Moritz and almost my temper when the devious villain
hid from the artwork was sulking because the Mona Lisa was
so small and he was so tiny could not see amongst masses of
tourists the smile and metaphorical writing on canvas and wall
So in all earnest while giving a toss I could-would have to resort
to tossing a coin in regards to whom why how and whenever the
rivals could measure up to history my history my story and life
Even and because of my whacky literal critical stance and my
stanzas bordering on mockery heresy subtle subjectification
you must remember that I have one tongue and two cheeks
And while seemingly ridiculing an important theme of historical
prominence I still bow in awe admiration yet lodge my own angle
perspective whereas the two grand master’s problem was not
what I would behold in my eyes and my soul in full radiance but
that they chose not to consider each others contrasting beauty
as compliment complement Leonardo Angelo Michel Da Vinci
01st September 2016
This Christmas, I am moved by the names in the genealogy of Jesus. I find the Biblical genealogy of Israel and Jesus to be a very fascinating study. There are four named women in the genealogy of Jesus and one name referenced. They are TAMAR, Rahab, Ruth, and Mary: Bathsheba is referenced to as Urias' wife.
When one reads TAMAR's story*, there is the feeling that what she did about her situation was over the top, out of culture, way out of line, and out of the realm of Godliness. By the same token, if we put our feet in her shoes, during her time, we might feel the same as she did regarding her plight and how to remedy the situation. Her patience ran completely out, and she felt that her father-in-law Judah was not living up to his responsibility. However, she did not bother to appeal to a greater earthly authority, nor did she bother to consult with The Lord. She took matters into her own hands, and although her approach was deceitful, her outcome was acceptable to her.
Judah's verdict against her, by current human standards, seemed judgmental and harsh. But Tamar forced him to face the truth and to commute her sentence of death. TAMAR proved to be a force to be reckoned with.
Judah speaks to all of us who spend our lives seeking self-gratification and running rampantly in our reckless self-righteousness. TAMAR speaks volumes about taking matters into our own hands, seeking desperately to find a fix for what ails us. More often than not, such fantasy fixes end in failures, and we live with the consequences. Self-righteousness is often very subtle and is capable of wrapping itself around the best of us. It's the type that says, "If I was writing a Holy Book, there would not be space on my Holy pages for the likes of Judah and Tamar". As a human filled with flaws, flops, and failures of my own, I am most grateful for the grace of God that has been extended to me. Both Judah and TAMAR, by no goodness of their own, found themselves in the genealogy of 'The Christ" who presents Himself as the Savior of the whole world. That includes Judah, TAMAR, you, and me.
12042017PoSoupContest, Favourite Poem From December 2017, Julia Ward
*Genesis 38
A hiding place, a warm and darkened room,
A lit doorway, bright against the dark,
Cold against the warmth, a frame for odd
Assorted stranger-forms whose faces loom
As quarrels over (what?) convulse and rend them,
Leering laughter giving in to vicious
Sneers, bared fangs, silent snarls
Of wretched, clutching, atavistic mayhem,
A terror once removed. Inside that hole
Distant from the proximal horrid window
Where twisted evil shadow-puppets fight
Peculiar faint amusement seems to roll
Like waves around the cave, detached and born
Of safety via distance, of certainty
That out would never be in, that warmth was safe,
That war above, so far away, forlorn,
Could be watched as from a languid seat
Far recessed in a darkened empty theater,
Nestled snugly, listening to the voice
Which comments on the raging battle heat.
From somewhere up, behind, not left nor right,
But from the center, voice and fight both
Directly sensed, as if they each occurred
In a vacuum, touch and smell, sound and sight
Being interchangeable and void.
The fighters jab and poke, madly gouge,
And neither gains advantage, being justly
Matched, as both are faceless, the man
At left pitted fair against the shrewish
Plot of his opponent, evil woman.
Both in turn appeal for judgment, turning
Away from fighting to glare and wave and hiss
Silently for a verdict on the ghastly driven
Feud which now has stopped, as it began,
Abruptly, and receiving none, for in
The silence no answer can be given
(Besides which, being taken by surprise
And overcome by sudden fear, aware
Of change in circumstance) the watcher is mute,
The murderous woman lunges at his very eyes
In deadly assault, bent on maiming, killing,
Groping fiercely at his open throat
For no apparent reason; and the comfort
Of the soothing voice utterly halts.
Words without sound fly like spears between them
Accusatory fingers gesture madly
And spittle from their half-crazed livid mouths
Wings through air in visual acid anthem
To this grisly deadly tandem fight
That seems the worse being set in relief
By the rectangular hole that serves as both
Window and door, divider of dark and light,
No protection, as threshold battle threatens
Him within, as blind hatred rages
In deft slashes of lengthy fingernails
While foe from foe extracts macabre debt.
We kept our silence in the room as we waited for the verdict to be read an innocent man sitting there with a murder hanging over his head, the image of the blood stained sheet is all over the screen and his only alibi is the woman of his dream.
You cannot be in two places before the horse races, there are four rooms in the house and an exit next to the kitchen, there is a basement two layers below and that is where you prepare for the show. You have a studio and a small study and a rack filled with oldies and goodies; sensational music of the past ring loudly in his ears and a library with an experiment table and newly designed module of a gadget sitting on top.
He cannot imagine himself killing anyone and he cannot believe that he have blood stain on his hand, “I don’t even know how to use a gun and if I did I would probably be on the run”, he shouted as he speaks his thoughts aloud. It is the form of confession you hear when death reason with death and passion run through veins spilling anxiety in the air.
We kept our silence in the room as he recalls the story of what happen that day at noon. He said that he was with the woman of his dreams walking on the beach, talking about the future and how they would spend their lives together; they booked a cheap hotel room and had lunch at noon, then made love the entire day.
He went on and on describing the woman of his dreams and never talked about the murdered man on the screen; his story of love was so convincing he mesmerized everyone in the room, and when he said, “my eyes met with hers and when the golden stature flashed across his eyes the interlude began, and they both became one.”
Their eyes and mouths open wide and raw nerves crashing with nerves and for more than five minutes no one spoke; it wasn’t a joke they were caught up in a romantic rapture and silence broke when the judge read the verdict.
“Not guilty “go in peace the Judge said, forcing himself to overcome the love spell. He brought out the entire old document on the case and throws them in the furnace and watched it burnt to ash.
The accused left the courtroom with his woman holding together their mesmerizing passion burning in the stomach. “I am a free man,” he shouted, I am going to travel the whole wide world and make some money telling stories. Not guilty is the title of his first book.
You may say that I’m crazy,
Deny I’m a Christian,
But I say our lives are just what we have chosen,
Though my logic seems hazy
And message seems Faustian,
If stuck, you should think if you want to be frozen!
Do you have to be right then,
With whom lies the verdict,
The world falls apart then will you be the scapegoat?
Does God handicap free men,
Did devil give edict,
Are you only one who is fearing a cut throat?
Now on first glance my premise
Might seem pretty silly,
Though it's also simple, 'Life's Always My Choosing!’
I can visualize grimace,
(Reception is chilly),
“A meteor hits my house! How's that me losing?”
You deny that you took risk
And odds went against you?
Were you just unlucky? Your choice made it happen!
My conclusion may seem brisk
But how can you argue
For all that I’ve done is make logic my weapon!
You should note I’m not saying
My model's not crude! Still
A pragmatist's sense is it could be the answer.
Goals accomplished by praying?
Most futures are landfill!
But trust in God’s Grace and feel light as a dancer.
Yes, a good life is easy,
Just don’t wait for rescue
For fate favors sailor who repairs his rigging!
When the trade winds are breezy
Help friends to continue,
Don’t settle for sorrow when choice includes jigging!
Long Tooth
May 11, 2017
Poet’s Notes:
In this poem I intend "Goals accomplished by praying?" to be ironic and “Most futures are landfill” to be an exhortation to action on your part as opposed to depending on the Almighty to fix all of your life’s difficulties. Christ died on the cross to prove His love and to reconcile us to God. That should be enough, though He may, in fact, give us more, we should (and can) handle most things with the talents, the gifts He has already given. It may not be true that we literally “choose” everything that life throws at us, but what I am in fact convinced is true is that life works better for those who do take personal responsibility for whatever happens to them, even if they are not responsible in fact.
We should always be careful what we pray for, I think! God might give it to you! When you acknowledge God's Grace though, it frees you from "false guilt" which cripples many people and strengthens your bond to your heavenly Father (who absolves you of real guilt as you live in faith in Him!)
Lizzie Borden Took an Axe
By Elton Camp
Family love often will subside
When there’s property to divide
Old Andy Borden’s second wife
Came to be a cause of much strife
He allowed his two daughters no say
When he began to give money away
To his second wife’s Abby’s own kin
With them, his generosity did begin
“For you to do like that is so lame.
On the estate Abby has no claim.”
Anger filled daughters one and two
Only the youngest knew what to do
When on a trip her sister was away,
Her crafty plan Lizzie put into play.
Ugly old Abby was at home alone
Her husband was on business gone
Bridget, the Borden’s Irish maid,
Feeling sick, in her room had laid
“Now’s my chance,” Lizzie thought
Unawares, her stepmother she caught
While she was making up the bed,
Lizzie swung an axe to her head.
Alongside the bed she did sprawl
Making not a cry or a move at all
When home to nap her father came
Then she proceeded to do the same,
Quickly removed her bloody dress
Cleaned from herself any red mess
Police,“Where can Mrs. Borden be?
We very much need her to see.”
Then came a shout, all to astound.
Come up here, look what we found.
Lizzie tried to conceal a happy smile
At the two bloody murders ever so vile
To loss of inheritance she put a stop
When into death her parents did drop
The evidence proved extremely strong
That Lizzie herself had done the wrong
She cried, “Oh jury, you must see me free.
Surely you have to believe it wasn’t me.”
To think any woman might be so evil
In that distant day was too unbelievable
Less than two hours did the jury deliberate
Before making their decision as to her fate
“We find pretty Lizzie did nothing wrong.
So open the jailhouse and send her home.
It would take some libelous and stupid fool
To accuse a young teacher of Sunday school.”
It was obvious that Lizzie had much to gain
If to continue alive Mrs. Abby did not remain
Both motive and opportunity, clearly she had
But a gentle woman could do nothing that bad
But the township’s people were not deceived
The jury’s hasty verdict they never believed
In derision, it only took them a very short time
To compose and then chant a mocking rhyme
“Lizzie Borden took an axe
And gave her mother forty whacks
When she saw what she had done,
She gave her father forty-one.”
[me]
When the music starts it possess my mind my heart my actions
i get more ****** up then the jackson 5
i feel alive I breathe in and out to live to to die
when the demons inside it makes me levitate i love to fly
i gotta fight temptations the devil sweet talks to saying we could be side bye side
[devil]
making music dont you wanna ride riely? dont you dream of the pride?
just slide this pen down the contract and sign
twitcheh twicht whats with your hadn riely? dont think about it im not lieng
this hole world wiLL reside inside the palm of your hand and abide
bye your very word but once you sign your tied to service
you can never quit see? here is the verdict its so you its perfect
dont worry ill alwase love you our relationship? id never hurt it
your a word smith heres your hammer now word it
You love battle rap see that line Reverse it
See? its perfect for you and me to be one in another
For all of eternity ill be your lover
You can perform for just me ill keep you alone ill forskae all others
yea fame has a price but its easy to pay well be closer than you and your mother
[me]
You silver tounged **** get away from me i gotta stay sane
but everyone just wants so much from mae i cant say
what i want to without stumbling and mumbaling my mouth betreys
me You can fix that? you can make me better than anyone else hey?
Well so can i i just gotta try, You will be with me forever?
and never give me up our relationship you would never sever?
but your evil you hate me you already forsake me how can you take me?
[devil]
No its not like that thats what he wants you to think
You have the opportunity now dont shrink
Show some courage here the contract i know you have the ink
Lets Bond and fuse to eachother like a chain link
[me]
Why do you want me? WHY
[devil]
Becouse your mind is buetifull i love the way you are
resisting me only gets harder just saccumb and ill make you feel numb
ill hummble you no more will it trouble you trust me i know you
[me]
NO no one know the true me even god he Gave me a lock i and i have the key
[devil]
Well im right here Hes not so who you gunna believe
be the tough guy just roll up those sleeves
[me]
So tragic i guess this is the only way i can have it
im sorry i once had a chance but i didnt grab it
and now i believe im to old to be salvaged
Form:
Oh it's timeout time my friend
Will you ever seek to be free
These chains will not break
For they hold one from below
That will not let one go
No matter the lies and deception
The Prince of this world no longer has a key
For the first thing we need to see
Is that you are a goat first
Stubborn mindless creatures
Running in all directions
Get down off that rock
With your head up high
Appearing as if your a shrine
In drunkenness of the worlds wine
Seeking guidance from the rising sun
Turning your back to the temple
It's been a verdict
The true light has come
But yet so many love the darkness
Lost following others in confusion
In hope another goat can explain
Why they are placed on the left side
Left outside the gate blaming others for hate
I took notice myself , I was a stubborn
Foolish , drunkard on world wine lies,
But I had to open the book of Life
Then God revealed my blindness
To what's going on around us
Being held captive in bondage
Christ has the key to release the lock
To shed off that old lifestyle
To have direction and clarity
To become a part of His flock
To become a new creation of the sheep
Which trust their Shepherd's guidance
And hears His voice from among
All the other false ones trying to mislead
Says nope I think I will just listen to this one
I can tell He knows for His words bring life
They have placed peace, joy and love within.
Seek Jesus in these times, one does
Not need others seeking glory from man
To teach one how to live for God
We have so many religions that come
From the same God separated into division
In the works of man to receive praise from man
To become in unity
We first have to see
One God, One Shepherd, One flock
Call upon Christ to resurrect His spirit
Within you to seek the mystery
Of the true knowledge and wisdom
In His word that gives life and clarity
Love y'all I only write for love for one another,
Don't take any of this as judgemental, for I was as bad as any
In not living for God, it's not within us until we seek and He
Places the spirit within to purify and mold one.
I am going to put a song in comments from a great friend that was
Suicidal, then the day He was planning his death, Christ said
Will you give me a chance and he received new breath, he had to
want to die before he could live
So powerful yet so vulnerable
So mighty but so weak
A life of grandeur and dominance
embodied with greed and abundance
is drawing to a close by its own arrogance
I could see everything from all angle
All wrapped up within one giant circle
Connecting the bold dots on the external triangle
This morning I sat on the big fearless rock
Watching the silent river flowing in the deep
For a while everything was dead silent
And I could hear my own breath and my heart throbbing
The trees were silent too and there wasn't a touch of breeze
It felt like a big ceremony was happening way out in the deep
Water flowed peacefully under the old bridge
and the birds flew to and fro the ridge, murmuring
I could sense that something sad was about to happen
My mother used to tell that silent river runs deep
and the quite ones are usually the most dangerous ones
I sat there staring in the water praying that it will remain calm
But all of a sudden something more powerful than me began
raging in the trees causing a turbulent commotion
And shouting cars start parading up and down the street
The bird thunderous voice kept screaming in the trees
Forcing me to pack up and quickly take my leave
I headed towards the East staring directly into the morning sun
lamenting my discomforts but it had a message for me before the day began
After hearing my case it buried itself under the thick blue sky
The scent of fresh flowers circulated the atmosphere
And I found myself in three different spots picking flowers far and near
They had the same color the same smell and the same truth
The sun came out from under the tempestuous sky
with a ferocious energy that lit up the entire sky
I could literally feel it scorching my face oh what a big disgrace
I lie on the grass in front of the big round pond
watching the sun emitting its woeful verdict
King Nebuchadnezzar has boasted of building the great Babylon
by his own mighty power, for himself and his patrons
But he was driven away from power and lived
with wild animals and eat grass until he was humbled
I got up suddenly and stared at the water in front of me
And saw one duck swimming in big wide pond
Mother duck circled around the pond
swimming up and down and quacking merrily around
Quack
Quack
Quack