The Accused God
THE ACCUSED GOD
God was once called to the witness box
serious charges of connivance and negligence
as Creator and perpetrator,
all the crimes on Earth had His express sanctions
the innocent criminal was only an instrument, keyed by Him from behind
Hung in shame, God climbed up the wooden dais
No one chose to side Him in defence
the clerk extended a ‘Holy Book' to swear
‘no one was exempted', let the accused be whosoever
The judge then went on reading the charge-sheets
voluminous reports with evidences abound
God was just wondering at the man's tactical mind
a weed, that He overlooked, when He made him out of mud
God was consigned to a solitary cell
the court felt, that He could not be secured again, if let on bail
The Omniscient God new nothing of anticipatory bails
nor He had the status for a "A" class jail
On the day of Judgment, there was heavy thunder and storms
Fire, epidemics, floods, angry volcanoes and tremors
The Natures' forces, out of their bounds, were so impatient
on a cleansing mission and to arrange for His Second Resurrection
-THE REDEEMER HAS TO BE REDEEMED, AT LAST -
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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Psalm 50 part 1
v.1-6
C. M.
The last judgment
The Lord, the Judge, before his throne
Bids the whole earth draw nigh,
The nations near the rising sun,
And near the western sky.
No more shall bold blasphemers say,
"Judgment will ne'er begin;"
No more abuse his long delay
To impudence and sin.
Throned on a cloud our God shall come,
Bright flames prepare his way;
Thunder and darkness, fire and storm,
Lead on the dreadful day.
Heav'n from above his call shall hear,
Attending angels come,
And earth and hell shall know and fear
His justice and their doom.
"But gather all my saints," he cries,
"That made their peace with God
By the Redeemer's sacrifice,
And sealed it with his blood.
"Their faith and works, brought forth to light
Shall make the world confess,
My sentence of reward is right,
And heav'n adore my grace."
poem by Isaac Watts
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I will be in comfort and others in peace
Down under and deep inside me
There sits a judge with a hammer
Beside a big old wooden table
With a eye-folded statue and a
Tossing balance
No one around,
No attendant or clerk in front
Only the accused
In the stand meant
No witness, nor arguments
No lawyer for or against the accused
No mention of sections or provisions
Of any law or regulation
And the judge is ever ready for judging
And comes out to declare that
This is good and that is bad
Which law school he is from
In which law he is a specialist
I know not a thing,
But he is always judging
And makes me act on his judgments
Normally we address
“The learned judge”
I know how “learned”
The person judging
Sitting down under deep inside me
Most of his judgments and
Subsequent acts of mine
Made me regret
And put others in discomfort
I have a request to
My inside judge
“Oh, Noble but lowly learned judge
How nice will it be
If you stop judging'
I will be in comfort and
Others in peace
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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The Judge – versus – A Judge
THE JUDGE of the Universe called me
to dock and asked on the judgment day
“Justice Joy, to defend yourself
do you have anything to say?
You’re charged with the
crime of denying justice at your hand
To many an innocent accused
when you dispensed justice in the world.
Heart-rending cries of innocent convicts I’ve heard
Acquitted criminals’
trumpeting boasts also I’ve heard.
Despite knowing the truth yourself,
you’ve relied on (false) witnesses,
And sent to gallows many faultless.
Your acts were indeed heinous.
I’ve heard your judgments many
that you pronounced in open court.
Often you treated life and freedom
with no justice of any sort.
Widows’ wails and orphans’ cries
have never ever touched your heart.
Innocence written on victims’ faces,
you always failed to look at.
Succumbed to pressure you
wrote out judgments as ‘bosses’ wanted
To gain ‘their’ pleasure and favors,
several evidences you twisted.
Judge, your traits were bad.
You harbored prejudice and hatred
Your opponents couldn’t ever escape.
Traps you had manipulated.
You never used your knowledge to give
men their life-saving justice.
These are ‘A’ grade crimes,
according to Heaven’s Law of Justice.
Prescribed punishment for these
is ‘Long-term Roasting in Fire’.
State your defense as to why
you shouldn’t be condemned to that fire”.
The dormant lawyer in me woke up
when those ‘allegations’ I heard.
I posed the following questions:
“Who are the complainants? Tell me lord?
What is the evidence? Who are the witnesses?
Who is the advocate on record?
I want to cross-examine the witnesses.
The allegations are absurd.
Which judgments did fail the test of
Evidence Act of my country?
Stoutly I deny the charges.
Let the prosecution prove to the contrary
Grant me time to file my counter
and examine my witness
I’ll disprove the allegations,
and I’m sure the case you’ll dismiss.”
The Judge said “the system is different here.
There’s no provision for witness.
Men’s thoughts, talks and acts
get recorded here at once.
I’m the complainant, the lawyer,
the witness, and also judge.
If men hadn’t shed their evil,
I punish them. I do not budge.
I condemn you to a long roast! ”
On His desk He hit His hammer.
Then angels rushed forward
and threw me into hellish fire.
A Poetry Reading At West Point
I read to the entire plebe class,
in two batches. Twice the hall filled
with bodies dressed alike, each toting
a copy of my book. What would my
shrink say, if I had one, about
such a dream, if it were a dream?
Question and answer time.
"Sir," a cadet yelled from the balcony,
and gave his name and rank, and then,
closing his parentheses, yelled
"Sir" again. "Why do your poems give
me a headache when I try
to understand them?" he asked. "Do
you want that?" I have a gift for
gentle jokes to defuse tension,
but this was not the time to use it.
"I try to write as well as I can
what it feels like to be human,"
I started, picking my way care-
fully, for he and I were, after
all, pained by the same dumb longings.
"I try to say what I don't know
how to say, but of course I can't
get much of it down at all."
By now I was sweating bullets.
"I don't want my poems to be hard,
unless the truth is, if there is
a truth." Silence hung in the hall
like a heavy fabric. My own
head ached. "Sir," he yelled. "Thank you. Sir."
Anonymous submission.
poem by William Matthews
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You're right—
234
You're right—"the way is narrow"—
And "difficult the Gate"—
And "few there be"—Correct again—
That "enter in—thereat"—
'Tis Costly—So are purples!
'Tis just the price of Breath—
With but the "Discount" of the Grave—
Termed by the Brokers—"Death"!
And after that—there's Heaven—
The Good Man's—"Dividend"—
And Bad Men—"go to Jail"—
I guess—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Courts, Compounding One's Woes
The court is a place
where you can lie, on a solemn Oath
and hire an expert
to manufacture more lies
Courts are meant mainly for the accused
technical ground would come in handy
to delay, avoid or even to let you go scot free
from the accusations made, heard and thus disposed
Laws are the same, but the pronouncements may vary
upon the merits of the each case argued
benefit of doubt is a spring-board for the the backdoor
as any fool can ask more than the wisest could answer
Money power is another weapon
to procure the most fittest eminent pleaders
to argue out your case in any bastion
the pouring money, its dubious sources have no legal implication
The idea - Natural Justice is very fair and friendly
siding with the defendants, it offers unduly, a long rope
quoting the principle, that the guilty may go free or unpunished
but, an innocent's interests shall have to be preserved
with our out of date legal jinx - if the detainee is VIP
the culprits are the most privileged
Honoured, favoured, paroled and getting elected
Cases would never be resolved during their entire life-span
Habitual offenders know pretty well
the sections and clauses, they would be charged with
before the case gets numbered or listed
they would foretell the terms of sentences correctly
A Judge is helpless and a ‘force majeure'
He cannot imitate the Solomon's Court
His hands are tied o the evidences produced and arguments noted
Justice Dispenser Machine, but with high immune.
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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Common Sense
Normalcy is for you to judge, what is normal for one,
Is abnormal for another, as there are no measurement guides,
To the balance of judgment that, is to be your guide in,
The philosophy of your lifetime, to use your "Common Sense";
As this is the natural thought of the mind, to see or think,
According to the intelligency of each person,
To overcome any problem without negative prejudice or malice,
To live on as "Human Beings", in a "World at Peace."
poem by Jim DiGregorio
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Divine Detachment
One day the Great Designer sought
His Clerk of Birth and Death.
Said he: "Two souls are in my thought,
to whom I gave life-breath.
I deemed my work was fitly done,
But yester-eve I saw
That in the finished brain of one
There was a tiny flaw.
"It worried me, and I would know,
Since I am all to blame,
What happened to them down below,
Of honour or of shame;
For if the later did befall,
My sorrow will be grave . . ."
Then numbers astronomical
unto the Clerk he gave.
The Keeper of the Rolls replied:
"Of them I've little trace;
But one he was a Prince of pride
And one of lowly race.
One was a Holy Saint proclaimed;
For one no hell sufficed . . . .
Let's see - the last was Nero named,
The other . . . Jesus Christ."
poem by Robert William Service
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Star Wars
STAR WARS
God was not happy with the goings-on
Resolved to punish the mankind harshly once
Locked himself in the Master-switch room
With a molten red face of anger and disgust
He thought of sending all the natural forces
But, man has conquered each of them long back
When He tickled upon viruses and epidemics
Earth is securely immune and fully vaccinated against
On test, God sent a big fire ball down
But our Mr. Red Adair **, was there to fight it alone
Now, God has no levers to pull
To cause havoc or deter the peoples down
God was tired, self-defeated and was ashamed
To realize that He is no more omnipotent
Wanting a truce under a forced ceasefire
He came out with His head down, holding a white flag on
(Mr. Red Adair is an oil-well fire fighting expert from US)
Louis Santhana
poem by Santhana Louis
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Sonnet V: Nothing But No
Nothing but "No," and "Aye," and "Aye," and "No"?
How falls it out so strangely you reply?
I tell ye, Fair, I'll not be answer'd so,
With this affirming "No," denying "Aye."
I say, "I love," you slightly answer "Aye";
I say, "You love," you pule me out a "No";
I say, "I die," you echo me an "Aye";
"Save me," I cry, you sigh me out a "No";
Must woe and I have nought but "No" and "Aye"?
No I am I, if I no more can have;
Answer no more, with silence make reply,
And let me take myself what I do crave.
Let "No" and "Aye" with I and you be so;
Then answer "No," and "Aye," and "Aye" and "No."
poem by Michael Drayton
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Pride Prevents Progress
There is one God Creator Who controls the Universe
No matter what you call Him when you worship or converse Material images by man will Holy God insult
He is not in the works of man or in a human cult God made the planets and controls the endless outer space
God made the many genes deciding every human race God can be seen in everything the human cannot do
Produce a seed, a mighty tree, a tiny bird egg too Because God "Mighty Spirit" wanted to communicate
He came to earth to talk with people all about their fate So God would need a human to convey to man His Plan
God Spirit chose to come to earth to walk and talk with man- But sinful man and Holy God are not compatible
Atonements made by humankind are not acceptable God Only could provide for man a Sacrifice for sin
One worthy of a Holy God, Blood cleansing from within God's Love provided righteous Blood, His Son the Righteous One
By Virgin birth all prophecies were fulfilled by God's Son God now can walk and talk with man possessed with Spirit God
Who listens when God's Word speaks by Messiah: Christ and Lord.
poem by Clara Evelyn Clark Cummings
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Violet De Vere
You've heard of Violet de Vere, strip-teaser of renown,
Whose sitting-base out-faired the face of any girl in town;
Well, she was haled before the Bench for breachin' of the Peace,
Which signifies araisin' Cain, an' beatin' up the police.
So there she stood before the Court of ruddy Judge McGraw
Whom folks called Old Necessity, because he knew no law.
Aye, crackin' in a silken gown, an' sheddin' of a tear,
Ashine wi' gold an' precious stones sat Violet de Vere.
Old Judge McGraw looked dourly down an' stroked his silver beard.
Says he: "Although the Sheriff's bruised, the lady should be heared.
What can you say in your defence? We'll give you a square deal."
"I jest forget," said Violet. "Maybe it was my heel.
I always want to kick the gong when I am feelin' gay;
It's most unfortunate, I guess, his face was in the way."
Then scratchin' of his snowy pow the Judge looked down severe,
Where bright wi' paint like plaster saint sat Violet de Vere.
Says he: "I'm going to impose a twenty dollar fine."
Says Violet: "Your Honour, to your judgement I resign.
I realize I should not my agility reveal:
Next time I'll kick the Sheriff with my toe and not my heel.
I'm grateful to the Court because I'm not put in the clink;
There's twenty plunks to pay my fine,--but now I come to think:
Judge, darlin', you've been owin' me five bucks for near a year:
Take fifteen,--there! We'll call it square," said Violet de Vere.
poem by Robert William Service
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Third Degree
(by eddie boyd and willie dixon)
Got me accused of peeping, I cant see a thing.
Got me accused of petting, I cant even raise my hand.
Bad luck, bad luck is killing me.
Well I just cant stand no more of this third degree.
Got me accused of murder, I aint harmed a man.
Got me accused of forgery, I cant even write my name.
Chorus
Got me accused of taxes, I aint got a dime.
Got me accused of children, and aint nary one of them was mine.
Chorus
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poet Be True
Its not my style to scrape n' pander
Best be true to what feels right to me
Far better to be accused of slander
Than "Go along" or "Wait n' see"
ROTMS
View images, video and poems by ROTMS at:
rotms.blogspot.com
poem by Ray Lucero
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0013 The Witness Box
It was a minor court case –
a matter of a market trader
selling maybe stolen goods,
the police attempting, probably not for the first time,
to get clear evidence to nail him…
but for those serving on a jury
for the first time, an occasion
full of all the solemn majesty of law;
the difficulties of following court proceedings;
weighing the evidence; and most of all,
the fear of convicting an innocent man –
even, as visibly here, a slippery man to deal with.
The court was small; almost intimate.
After the grubby, vague, sometimes seemingly irrelevant
prosecution claims (points being made that
a jury would not appreciate, involving finer points of law) -
and, months after the event,
policemen reading from notes they took of the case
which were as evidence, more like a crime half seen, and
half assumed, the accused took the witness stand
and as he took the last two steps towards the stand
I witnessed an extraordinary moment, even with
his back to me – for two seconds at the most, you could see
the burden of a lifetime's criminality fall from his shoulders;
in this moment of pure, beautiful grace:
something within him knew that this was the given moment
to ‘come clean’ once and forever…
before me stood, for a single glimpse,
the human being in primal innocence.
So when he took the witness stand
and declared himself not guilty
at was, at one level, manifestly true..
He took the stand; swore on the holy book
to tell the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth;
and lied and lied and lied – so obviously,
that to my astonishment, the judge intervened,
leaned over to him and said in almost motherly tones,
‘Mr Smith – why is it that whenever you are asked
a question.. you tell..a lie? ’…
In the courtroom, a breathless pause;
(the defence lawyers can’t have been too pleased
to hear this condemnation by implication) :
‘It’s me nature, ma’am’ was the sincere and miserable reply..
The police failed to convince us of his guilt – although
we quessed they’d been after him for some time;
we let him off; but in that moment which was unforgettable,
I’d seen innocence and guilt within one man.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 24
I complained to one of the sheikhs that a certain man had falsely accused me of lasciviousness. He replied: "Put him to shame by thy good conduct."
Be thou well behaved that a maligner
May not find occasion to speak of thy faults.
When the harp is in proper tune
How can the hand of the musician correct it?
The ABC
'Twas midnight in the schoolroom
And every desk was shut
When suddenly from the alphabet
Was heard a loud "Tut-Tut!"
Said A to B, "I don't like C;
His manners are a lack.
For all I ever see of C
Is a semi-circular back!"
"I disagree," said D to B,
"I've never found C so.
From where I stand he seems to be
An uncompleted O."
C was vexed, "I'm much perplexed,
You criticise my shape.
I'm made like that, to help spell Cat
And Cow and Cool and Cape."
"He's right" said E; said F, "Whoopee!"
Said G, "'Ip, 'Ip, 'ooray!"
"You're dropping me," roared H to G.
"Don't do it please I pray."
"Out of my way," LL said to K.
"I'll make poor I look ILL."
To stop this stunt J stood in front,
And presto! ILL was JILL.
"U know," said V, "that W
Is twice the age of me.
For as a Roman V is five
I'm half as young as he."
X and Y yawned sleepily,
"Look at the time!" they said.
"Let's all get off to beddy byes."
They did, then "Z-z-z."
poem by Spike Milligan
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Justice
Justice is seldom found on earth
Although we want it most!
If the victim is poor
And the accused is rich
There should be a handsome compensation.
If the victim is rich
And the accused is poor
There should be less compensation.
I prefer death sentence
To lifetime imprisonment
And any other penalty to fine
Since the criminal may repent
And become a very good person!
Therefore the lawmakers should rethink
In order to establish true justice
In all spheres of judgment.
poem by Asif Andalib
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Legends
I
A MAN builded a bugle for the storms to blow.
The focused winds hurled him afar.
He said that the instrument was a failure.
II
When the suicide arrived at the sky, the people there asked him: "Why?"
He replied: "Because no one admired me."
III
A man said: "Thou tree!"
The tree answered with the same scorn: "Thou man!
Thou art greater than I only in thy possibilities."
IV
A warrior stood upon a peak and defied the stars.
A little magpie, happening there, desired the soldier's plume, and so plucked it.
V
The wind that waves the blossoms sang, sang, sang from age to age.
The flowers were made curious by this joy.
"Oh, wind," they said, "why sing you at your labour, while we, pink beneficiaries, sing not, but idle, idle, idle from age to age?"
poem by Stephen Crane
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Fragment
At last I entered a long dark gallery,
Catacomb-lined; and ranged at the side
Were the bodies of men from far and wide
Who, motion past, were nevertheless not dead.
"The sense of waiting here strikes strong;
Everyone's waiting, waiting, it seems to me;
What are you waiting for so long? --
What is to happen?" I said.
"O we are waiting for one called God," said they,
"(Though by some the Will, or Force, or Laws;
And, vaguely, by some, the Ultimate Cause;)
Waiting for him to see us before we are clay.
Yes; waiting, waiting, for God to know it." ...
"To know what?" questioned I.
"To know how things have been going on earth and below it:
It is clear he must know some day."
I thereon asked them why.
"Since he made us humble pioneers
Of himself in consciousness of Life's tears,
It needs no mighty prophecy
To tell that what he could mindlessly show
His creatures, he himself will know.
"By some still close-cowled mystery
We have reached feeling faster than he,
But he will overtake us anon,
If the world goes on."
poem by Thomas Hardy
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