Let me be clear - no one is above the law. Not a politician, not a priest, not a criminal, not a police officer. We are all accountable for our actions.
quote by Antonio Villaraigosa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
My father was a police officer before he retired. One of my brothers is also a police officer, and I think they kind of expected I would do something along those lines, like become a fireman or something.
quote by Ryan Reynolds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clear Karmic Debt
Some people use the phrase Born Again
to justify their actions
before their mean action begins.
They can justify actions like never before
but their mean actions can't be ignored.
For every action there is karma at stake
you will experience the same experience
likewise which you did create.
Everyone is accountable for their actions
no matter how small—
if you transgressed and hurt another
send them blessing least of all.
Or say your "Sorry" and give them a hug
it doesn't matter if you are not a thug.
So clear your karmic debt—
rethink through your actions
to live with no future regrets.
Written by Christina Sunrise on July 14,2012
www.christinapoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What About My Image?
But you've graduated from high school.
Why is it that you desire to go back?
'I felt safe in those days.
It was easy for me not to be accountable,
For anything.
And when I blamed someone else for something I did...
At least I could hide my deceit and was believed.
But today...
People are trying to make me responsible,
For my own actions.
And...
I have 'never' done that before!
I'm not use to having fingers pointed at me.'
Well...
You know eventually that is going to happen.
'I know.
I can't even blame 'them' for anything anymore.'
Just be prepared to fix everything you've done.
'Are you kidding?
Be responsible for my own actions?
Be accountable and admit my faults?
But...but...
What about my image? '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This president has been reluctant to hold anybody accountable. No one was held accountable after September the 11th. Nobody's been held accountable after the clear flaws in intelligence leading up to the war in Iraq.
quote by Bob Graham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Held Accountable
We all are held accountable
On the things we do in our life
From the deeds we do, and the words we say
And from the actions that we leave behind.
As our paths they cannot be forgotten
Nor the walks or the steps we have taken
And the things we done or felt or said
They will become the future that we have been making.
As a rock that is tossed into the ocean
And as it hits upon it’s surface
The ripple effect for that rock has began
Then later we will see its effect and its purpose.
And we too are all held accountable
As that is the way that it should be,
From the things we done and the words we said
As that will become part of our history.
We all are held accountable
For our endeavors that became our past
And should we not also be made to stand up and own
All our actions and deeds that formed and shaped our life.
We must stand up and accept our past
As that is the way that it truly should be
So we can't run or even hide away
Like life, that is our destiny.
As one day we all will be held accountable
From the deeds and actions that we have done
So we must be prepared to accept them all
As like from death, from it we cannot run.
So watch the steps that you do take
And think closely on the path you do choose
As that will be the destiny you chose for yourself
And one day it will come back to visit you.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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What I argue is that if I'm going to be held accountable for my actions that I should be allowed to record... my actions. Especially if somebody else is keeping a record of my actions.
quote by Steve Mann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Asking questions is an essential part of police investigation. In the ordinary sense a police officer is free to ask a person for identification without implicating the Fourth Amendment.
quote by Anthony Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Is 16 And The Other 18
the police officer arrested them
last night while they were strolling on the park
and this is the story:
he asks for their names and they say they have none
he asks from where they come from and they say
they do not really know
he asks them where they are going and they tell him
they are still undecided
he asks them what is in their bags and they say they are just nothing
he asks them some more and they say
they have nothing to say of themselves
they come from nowhere
and they are heading nowhere
and the police handcuffed them
these vagrants
these potential terrorists of this rural place
where the people still love peace
and this afternoon the police officer brings them all to me
and he tells me about the whole story
about his questions and their answers
and i am looking at them and they look at me
straight in my eyes
with dignity and without shame
with all pride
that they are telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth
that this one whose age is 16 and this other one whose age is 18
are simply talking about
themselves
and about us
and about the policeman himself
and surely, i agree
we have no names, we do not know where we come from and we do not
really know where we are going
we are all like that, in the strictest sense of the word, except
for our little pretensions
and so i ordered the policeman to release them all
and let them be
themselves
and let them go in peace and finish their journey with all ease
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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435
The Police Officer Arrested Them
Last Night While They Were Strolling On The Park
And This Is The Story:
He Asks For Their Names And They Say They Have None
He Asks From Where They Come From And They Say
They Do Not Really Know
He Asks Them Where They Are Going And They Tell Him
They Are Still Undecided
He Asks Them What Is In Their Bags And They Say They Are Just Nothing
He Asks Them Some More And They Say
They Have Nothing To Say Of Themselves
They Come From Nowhere
And They Are Heading Nowhere
And The Police Handcuffed Them
These Vagrants
These Potential Terrorists Of This Rural Place
Where The People Still Love Peace
And This Afternoon The Police Officer Brings Them All To Me
And He Tells Me About The Whole Story
About His Questions And Their Answers
And I Am Looking At Them And They Look At Me
Straight In My Eyes
With Dignity And Without Shame
With All Pride
That They Are Telling The Truth, The Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth
That This One Whose Age Is 16 And This Other One Whose Age Is 18
Are Simply Talking About
Themselves And About Us
And About The Policeman Himself
And Surely, I Agree
We Have No Names, We Do Not Know Where We Come From And We Do Not
Really Know Where We Are Going
We Are All Like That, In The Strictest Sense Of The Word, Except
For Our Little Pretensions
And So I Ordered The Policeman To Release Them All
And Let Them Be Themselves
And Let Them Go In Peace And Finish Their Journey With All Ease
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Old Boy Racer (Fun Poem 132)
While driving home one day
my old car blew up on me
and the transmission went kaput.
Upon getting another car,
I chose a smaller one,
the kind boy racers own.
Suddenly I became a speed demon
driving down the motorway doing a ton
with the wind ruffling
through the remaining hair I had.
One day while really pushing it,
blue lights began flashing behind me.
The cops told me to pull over,
which at once I did.
An officer approached my car
with me crammed behind the wheel.
'What speed do you think you were doing? '
'I don't know officer I couldn't see the speedo.'
'I clocked you at doing a 110.'
'Really! ' I said
as he wrote me out a ticket.
'I'd advise you to adjust your seat
so you can see the speedo.'
'Yes officer I will do that.' I replied.
I sat there for a moment;
a smile crept across my face.
My son will no believe it
when I show him the ticket.
He'll probably say
the Police had it wrong,
the ticket was probably for going slow.
I drove off after the Police had gone,
my foot to the floor again.
Back into my boy racer mode,
but in my case now
it was an old boy racer mode.
25-26 April 2012
poem by David Harris
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Orang-Utan
A large ape disappeared from a Zoo
And he has been to one of his friends a former retired politician.
He complains his friend that he wants to extract a tooth.
They went to a dentist and extracted the tooth.
Then the ape said 'I want to see an ophthalmologist.'
On the way the politician said' Don't spend so much money and I have my old spectacles which I used for my whole political career.'
'Better buy a new one that is much corrupted.' Ape replied angrily.
I dedicate this poem to Mr.Nadarajah.Raviraj a popular Sri Lankan/Tamil politician and his bodyguard who were Assassinated in the broad daylight today by unidentified gunmen. The Government has already called the Scotland Yard Police for the Investigation.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Life of a Roman Catholic Priest
A priest is nearest Christ;
A priest is Christ at times;
A priest is almost Christ;
A priest is most divine.
A priest is God’s shepherd;
A priest must tend to flock;
A priest must be like ‘rock’;
A priest should ne’er defrock.
A priest communes with God;
A priest draws hope from Lord;
A priest shows love of Christ;
A priest carries His Cross!
A priest is tempted too;
A priest has falls in life;
A priest falters also;
A priest has strength from Christ.
A priestly job is tough;
A priest’s life can turn rough;
A priest has strife enough,
But has to smile and laugh!
A priest helps harvest souls;
A priest has many roles;
A priest has but one goal –
To drink from Christ’s own bowl!
Pray that more priests should come;
May priests curb their freedom;
May priest usher Kingdom;
A life for Christ’s welcome.
Fondly dedicated to Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius,
Beloved Parish priest, ‘Holy Family Church, Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 25-7-2010
poem by John Celes
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Mexicans
Why is it that when a police officer sees a group of white friends he smiles, waves, and even stops bye to say hello, But When he sees a groups of brown people playing soccer he stops gives a fake smile and leaves, but after a while he comes back and checks on them ask what their doing or why there there he suspects of them more than anyone else he hides and stares he looks at every play he wait till everyones gone while the group of white people laugh, making the browns feel like criminals, so when everyone leaves the officer gets down from his poloce car and checks for any drugs so....why is it that when police sees a white group he smiles and stops to say hello when at the browns he stops and says whats going on? ..suspecting
poem by Yazmin Flora
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter II: Criminal
Good criminal will judge like a cop
Bad criminal will think as a victim
Smart criminal will use the brain
Fool criminal will be burned by emotion
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With Reports Delivered to Supporters
People are 'freaking' out
As to who will or will not
Pay for their own health care!
And their taxes paid today...
With excuses made,
Has yet to fill that pothole on their streets.
Or get a police officer to come when needed.
And when did any politician,
Campaign for a vote...
When it was not time for re-election?
But on a plane they will fly to Europe,
First class...
To compare what's there and a cost of living.
With pictures to prove,
How a suntanning is done...
On exotic beaches.
With reports delivered to supporters,
As to whose quality of life...
Maintains high standards!
And their constituents' interests,
Are being duly heeded.
In between much needed rest.
'Those are unpatriotic statements.'
You should hear my creditors' opinions.
And many of them are lobbyists!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Officer Blue
Officer blue,
Really love the things you do,
Even when I was just eight years.
Officer blue,
Is it true what they say?
That when you work youre still at play.
Oh officer blue,
I really love the things you do.
Its magical,
People in a human zoo.
Officer blue,
Cast a shadow on the wall,
But by torchlight even mice look tall.
Officer blue,
In a blaze of uniform,
And your stripes and badges to conform.
Officer blue,
Really love the things you do,
Even when I was just eight years old.
Officer blue,
Is it true what they say?
That when you work youre still at play.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Officer Blue
Officer blue,
Really love the things you do,
Even when I was just eight years.
Officer blue,
Is it true what they say?
That when you work youre still at play.
Oh officer blue,
I really love the things you do.
Its magical,
People in a human zoo.
Officer blue,
Cast a shadow on the wall,
But by torchlight even mice look tall.
Officer blue,
In a blaze of uniform,
And your stripes and badges to conform.
Officer blue,
Really love the things you do,
Even when I was just eight years old.
Officer blue,
Is it true what they say?
That when you work youre still at play.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Granting Of An Escape
When does it become one's duty,
To be held accountable for their own actions?
When does that border between,
Allowing one to locate excuses...
Separates that from one's denying,
Of making habitual mistakes...
To find fault to place blame on others,
With a granting of an escape.
When does it become one's duty,
To be held accountable for their own actions?
When does that border between,
Allowing one to locate excuses...
Separates that from one's denying,
Of making habitual mistakes.
And when will people awaken,
To discover their dishonesty...
Offers their children,
No respect or identity.
Or a dignity they pride for the rest of their lives.
What will it take...
For those with pretentions to have them erased?
More hiding places?
Or the appearance of guilty looks,
Adorning their pitiful faces?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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H-K (Hunter-Killer)
The conscious man is dead
And I buried him
Beneath this scarred tissue
Armored skeleton
The machine is now alive
Desensitized with open eyes
Powered by an angry mind
And is refueled by those I despise
I've become what the detest
A delinquent survivalist
Without fear and no regrets
They fu*king say
I am a criminal
I am a criminal
I am a criminal
I am a criminal
I must steal to survive
I must kill to moralize
Leaving people victimized
Fuels my angst inside
I'm your judge
And your jury
You don't get an attorney
With my verdict of guilty
An execution in fury
The machine is now alive
To wreak havoc in your lives
There's no use to hold me back
I am ready to attack
Repeat second verse
I am a criminal
I am a criminal
I am a criminal
I am a criminal
song performed by by Fear Factory from Demanufacture
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I practised in London for Olympic Heats?
A beggar like old man once read my palm in a city Railway station and he predicted: You'll be a Pilot or a constant runner in your whole life.
Yes, It's getting closer the date,27th of July.
And I practised outside the Olympic stadium
on a lonely street for the 800 meters Relay?
Suddenly I was caught by a police officer
and he questioned me of my valid papers.
Then I said; 'Don't worry Sir!
I am one of your colonial cousins
and I never forget the hospitality.
I have participated the Royal Wedding
and the Queen's Diamond Jubilee
with my old Gabardine suit.
Don't you remember once you arrested me
under suspicion of stealing the Big Ben? '
They handcuffed me and I was awake
to the jerk & batton beating in the police car.
I asked my wife where my running shoes?
'O sorry darling! I left them in the police car.'
She's worried and brought the Sugar-meter
'Don't know whether you're getting the coma again? '
She looked embarassed!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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