Criminal Justice
My brother and I were falsely
Convicted for the rape and slaughter
Of a 13-year-old girl; but we weren't
There: we were shooting pool.
Because the police knew we held
No patriotic glee, they assumed too much,
And us they prosecuted.
Years of justice blind, dead-brained
Words striving to become lofty and eternal,
And eyewitnesses without wit,
Put us in the penitentiary.
Then, after twenty-two years,
The DNA surfacing like a submarine,
Cleared our names. They let us go
With a heartfelt apology.
But one learns a thing or two in prison:
Now, on foggy mornings, during school days,
Look yonder into the haze-
And feel the disturbed gut
Hovering at the very end
Of the playground breached.
poem by Stan Petrovich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
4 Year Girl
A four year girl i knew
This thing we had of truth
Somehow our spirits where alike
Much had we weathered for each other
The four year girl i knew
Could turn your eye if she smiled
Oh how i loved that girl
When she liked smiling at me
A four year girl i knew
Showed me who she was
Did it hurt you like it hurt me
The trust laid just as deep as the lies?
The four year girl i knew
How could i have been so naive
How could she have fooled everybody
Without telling one lie
A four year girl i knew
I spent four years falling for
And in four days lost the girl
And walked away with a heart
Screaming with pain (for)
The four year girl i knew
Why cant my heart bare the change
Of four years in four days
poem by David Bodnar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For Bill - My Brother
Who was aged five when I was born
My brother
Who hid my toys and broke my dolls
My brother
Who avoided his sister at school all day
My brother
Who tolerated my teenage years
My brother
Who as an adult became a friend
My brother
Who mellowed with each passing year
My brother
Who supported my desire to immigrate
My brother
Who was there when others weren't
My brother
Who buried our parents while I was gone
My brother
Who cherished every visit I made
My brother
Who had his ticket to visit me here
My brother
Who unexpectedly died this year
My brother
poem by Evelyn Macdonald
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Police Cell
I'm sitting in a police cell
but my mind is in hell
They know I'm mentally ill
they know i'm going to say
what they want to hear
Lie after lie
I dig the hole deeper
making sure I destroy my life
They sit and smile
taking it all down
They don't care
i'm an innocent man
They sent me to prison
for another man
But twenty years on
they could not have known
that I would rise again
prove my innocence
and send them down
Twenty years have passed
and I can still smell
the despair in that police cell
poem by Dave Alan Walker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Four Years Old
Hey
Why'd you wake me from my nap?
I'm not in the mood
To play your games
Or sit on your lap
You
Where's my Yankees drinking glass?
I want some juice
And I want it now
So you better move your ass
And feel bad for me
'Cuz I'm just getting over a cold
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
Somebody better tie my shoes!
Now
I run down the hall
I scream and I yell
And I cry 'cuz I fell
Bring the rubbing alcohol
Outside
I get mud on my shoe
I come back in the house
I get it on the rug
The cleanging's up to you
And I won't take a bath
Unless you make me Spaghetti-O's
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
Mommy reads to me at night
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Well
I can't have a job
And I can't go to school
If no grownups are around
I can't go near the pool
I'm not alowed to climb
My neighbor's apple tree
I'm not allowed to sit
Too close to the TV
I don't know how to drive
And I don't know how to spell
But if I hear my brother cursing
I do know how to tell
'Cuz he made me eat some bread
That was covered in mold
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I'm four years old!
I just threw up on my grandmother
song performed by by Adam Sandler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Twenty Years Ago
It's been a long time since I walked
Through this old town
But oh how the memories start to flow
And there's the old movie house
They finally closed it down
You could find me there every Friday night
Twenty years ago.
I worked the counter at the drugstore down the street
But nobody's left there I would know
On Saturday mornings that's where
All my friends would meet
You'd be surprised to know what a dime would buy
Twenty years ago.
All my memories from those days come gather round me
What I'd give if they could take me back in time
It almost seems like yesterday
Where do the good times go?
Life was so much easier twenty years ago.
I guess I should stop by Mr. Johnson's hardware store
His only son was my friend Joe
But he joined the army back in 1964
How could we know he would never come back
Twenty years ago...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Ten Grey hairs and a silver one
I discovered my first grey hair
when I was Seventeen years old
It had to do with broken up my first relationship
I discovered my second grey hair
when I was Twenty years old
It had to do with the quarrels at home
I discovered my third grey hair
when I was Twenty-one years old
It had to do with searching for work
I discovered my fourth grey hair
when I was Twenty-three years old
It had to do with loosing my job
I discovered my fifth grey hair
when I was Twenty-five years old
It had to do with giving up my unborn child
I discovered my sixth grey hair
When I was Twenty-eight years old
It had to do with opening my pub
I discovered my seventh grey hair
When I was thirty years old
It had to do with giving birth to my daughter
I discovered my eight grey hair
When I was thirty –two years old
It had to do with the first day at the kinder garden school
I discovered my ninth grey hair
When I was thirty-four years old
It had to do with to find out that some thing was missing
I discovered my tenth grey hair
When I was thirty-five years old
It had to do with the fights between my sisters and mum
My one Silver hair I discovered lately
Has to do with you
Because I miss you so hard …
poem by Pascale Ost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
20 Years Imprisonment
Jailed for 20 years!
The Pastor was jailed for 20 years imprisonment for,
Defiling a 15-year-old girl;
And, he was convicted on his own plea.
The complainant,
Presenting,
Accompanied,
To the hilly site;
And he forcibly entered her!
But today, he is jailed for 20 years.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Alive And Killing
I once knew this boy
Who was in his teens,
A dog tag around his neck
A pair of low waist jeans
A ragged shirt, streaked hair
Branded shoes, the thuggish stare
It all fitted him very well
Yet his darkest secret he would never tell.
There was one little piece
The jigsaw was missing
That one thing that seemed out of place
That one thing that didn't fit in.
He had everything,
Yet he seemed depressed
'Is it your marks? Your studies? '
'Why are you looking so stressed? '
His parents would give him
Everything he needed and more
Yet his wasn’t as bright
As the clothes he wore
He was always missing from class and home alike
No one knew where he went
Except his little brother
He had followed him that day
To see where he went alone
He followed him to a house
He followed him back home
He saw what his brother did
He saw his brothers near death
He knew he had to stop him
He would fight till his final breath
Seven years of mystery
Was uncovered that day
But only his brother knew
When his motionless brother lay
His brother was dead
Dead of drugs
That seventeen year old
Had been dealing with thugs
The brother didn’t reveal
The information he had
He knew his brother wasn’t the only one
What he knew was driving him mad
He was going to do something
About these killing things
Going to take action
Going to spread out his wings
He was only thirteen
What could he do?
Nothing was in his hands
That he knew
Then he decided to take his stand
For his brothers sake and all like him
He knew what power lay in his hands
He knew how he could inspire a change
He knew precisely what he had to do
He walked to his brother’s room
And picked up his pen
And with a firm mind
And an urge to make a difference
He began to write....
Alive and killing.
poem by Abhishek Vishwanathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
He Was My Brother
He was my brother
Five years older than I
He was my brother
Twenty-three years old the day he died
Freedom writer
They cursed my brother to his face
Go home outsider
This town's gonna be your buryin' place
He was singin' on his knees
An angry mob trailed along
They shot my brother dead
Because he hated what was wrong
He was my brother
Tears can't bring him back to me
He was my brother
And he died so his brothers could be free
He died so his brothers could be free
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
He Was My Brother
He was my brother
Five years older than I
He was my brother
Twenty-three Years old the day he died
Freedom writer
They cursed my brother to his face
Go home outsider
This town's gonna be your buryin' place
He was singin' on his knees
An angry mob trailed along
They shot my brother dead
Because he hated what was wrong
He was my brother
Tears can't bnng him back to me
He was my brother
And he died so his brothers could be free
He died so his brothers could be free
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Playground
For decades, it was a playground and now a pauper's graveyard.
A politician suggests to make it a playground again.
I try to collect the names of champions
But no tombs and I hear some whispers;
'What is the use of getting our names
As we cannot compete the living souls?
Let us sleep well and write down this in your notebook brother.
We do not have regrets as there is no any race further.
Mr.Reporter, if possible lets work together to ensure
That every dead soul has a right to sleep.'
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
That child
Eight years old and already hate life
Abused by her adopted mother
Raped by her adopted brother
She is just a child and she cant be more.
The bruises on her back keeps her silent
She cries at night till the pain is numb
And when he is on top of her she drifts away
Away from body away from spirit.
Nine years old and it continues
To protect her blood brother from the same
She pretends nothing is wrong
For him, trying so hard to be strong.
She cared so much for her blood brother
She took his bruises upon her self
And he was only a year younger
And they both were just kids.
Ten years old and he still knows nothing
She must be the best secret keeper
Or just a scarred girl who doesnt want her brother to know
Either way she is just a child.
Eleven years old nothing changes
Twelve years old she is getting fed up
The nights when he would come in and do what ever
Forced to mature before her time.
Fourteen she tells her adopted mother
And adopted mother beats her and the girl knows not why
Is it because the mother doesn't believe her
Or does not care enough for her feelings
Sixteen she tries to runaway
Her aunt talks to her so she goes back
Seventeen she moves out and graduate high school
What do you know she graduate with honors.
Eighteen she joins the military
Her blood brother still knows nothing
He see her for her success and not her struggle
That is how she want to keep it.
Her childhood was taking
She just met her birth father
Knows not her birth mother
Her biological brother is all she has
At Nineteen she wrote this poem.
And still remembers that child.
poem by Tressa Carliss
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Roman Polanski: What is There to Debate? Whether Rape is Rape-Rape?
I know he is great director.
I know that he had great stresses in his life from childhood on.
I know that he had won countless awards for his cinema, his ‘magic’ and his craft.
I know that Roman Polanski is a statutory rape predator.
I know that there was something in his psyche that little girls had done.
I know what rape means, it is control, and it’s been 32 years ago,
- he had control or am I daft.
She said “No, no, I want to go home”
“It’s been so long ago”, his fans do say.
It is sort of like meth head saying,
“I promised you $400 for that guitar I bought you from last year,
But not in future and not today.”
And the infamous Bill Clinton line
-'It depends on what the meaning of the word 'is' is. “
That one still confounds me still to this day.
(But not as much as Caitlin Upton’s response when she was asked a question in a pageant about geography I do recall.)
Roman Polanski is a fugitive from the law.
I know that Roman Polanski is a statutory rape predator
The French blame the US level of justice.
Roman elected to live in the US not France,
Do in Rome what the Romans do.
And if you ‘play’ you have to pay.
And if by chance,
You run afoul of the country’s law pity the fool.
His next stop is a prison cell door.
Especially, when you are a 40+ year old man taking advantage of a 13 year old girl.
I know that Roman Polanski is a statutory rape predator.
Roman Polanski gave her alcohol and Quaaludes,
Consensual sex, hardly it behooves the point,
Someone should lock him up for the next 32 years in the joint.
Roman’s violation of the law is not only against her,
But it is a violation against the People of California,
And consequently, the People of the United States.
I know that Roman Polanski is a statutory rape predator.
If Roman Polanski is not extradited,
- then a part of millennia of common moral law is about to fail.
If Roman Polanski is extradited he will not go free on bail.
If he were Marc Rich and President Clinton was in power,
And if Roman Polanski gave serious money to Clinton’s Library,
Roman, like Marc Rich, could be pardoned, exonerated-either or.
Roman should pay for his abuse of a child whatever years ago,
She quite older now but the state doesn’t forget.
Especially when his lawyers instigated the recent events,
-that too do they would soon regret.
But when its all said and done,
I know that Roman Polanski is a statutory rape predator.
10-2-09
poem by Joe Rosochacki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The School Days are near!
Same shrieking morning alarms,
Same morning fear!
The school days are near, The school days are near!
Sleeping in the bathroom,
From out, Mom shouts, '' DO YOU EVEN HEAR? ''
The school days are near, The school days are near!
So drowsy I am,
Confused, don't know what to wear!
The school days are near, The school days are near!
And entered into the school,
Murmuring silently, '' Oh dear! Oh dear! ''
The school days are near, the school days are near!
And if the first period is Maths,
Not again those equations linear! !
The school days are near, the school days are near!
A look at the load of books,
From the corner of my eye drops a tear!
The school days are near, the school days are near!
Gosh! When will vacations come?
We'll have to wait an year!
The school days are near, the school days are near!
Hoping when we go,
We'll find joy, sheer!
The school days are near, The school days are near! ! : D
poem by HudaM DeGratePoet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Playground
I climb up, spending daylight
Slide down drunken on the other side
Some sweet girl, playing my wife,
Runs off with a boy whose bike shell ride
Playground (its a playground)
Marked by the masters and bruised by the bullies in the
Playground (its a playground)
Never stop rehearsing, rehearsing for the big square world
Bells will ring, door flings open
Hare and greyhound in the old kiss chase
Youve been caught, game has ended
Smack on kisser from her slap on face
Playground (its a playground)
Were marked by the masters and bruised by the bullies in the
Playground (its a playground)
Never stop rehearsing, rehearsing for the big square world
Watch the leaves all tear away (one by one)
Leaving you but lined like an exercise book
What did your report once say (know the one)
This boy must try harder to please
From down on his knees
Playground, playground, playground, playground, playground,
Playground, playground, playground
Brain gets bent, heart gets broken
You cant jump off once the page is turned
School is out but never over
Thats the only lesson you can learn
Playground (its a playground)
Were marked by the masters and bruised by the bullies in the
Playground (its a playground)
Never stop rehearsing, rehearsing for the big square
Playground (its a playground)
Go for the high jump if you let em push you in the
Playground (its a playground)
Theres no escaping, escaping from their big square world
You may leave school, but it never leaves you
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I knew that people were going to talk about it, I knew it was embarrassing, and I knew it was a big deal. But did I think that it was going to be this thing that followed me for, you know, the next years to come? I guarantee you, 25 years from now, I'll be known as the girl that lip synced on 'SNL.' But, you know, it was a weird thing. Not fun.
quote by Ashlee Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
On the Innate Drive For What is Right
As life bled, martyrdom flared its buds.
Repression, red from irritation,
Rendered chinks and cracks; but thuds of
Armament - in cowardice - accomplice of the
Dictatorial blight thro' countless years -
Wreaked its retribution:
Yet hope began to bloom a coloured carapace
Enshrining their allegiance ‘gainst the
Terror in their tears.
And on! Splits yawned - breaches in the junta:
Flesh fought fanatical minds -
Bullets welcomed into open hands
And blessed with yearnings for morality:
Chiselled man-toys of death and mutilation
Couldn't repel the might of freedom
Surging at the bright horizon.
Crepuscular rays of purpose, body,
Flooded pandemonium with
Overwhelming clarity, direction -
Burdened clouds drifting wayward as the
Light channelled out a vision,
Intensifying focus on tomorrow -
Deepen their stride
As they home in to
What is theirs,
Rightfully theirs!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The reign of justice and freedom
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
justice justice justice justice justice justice justice justice
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Wasted Words Of All The Years
THE WASTED WORDS OF ALL THE YEARS
The wasted words of all the years-
The time given to them-
A lifetime given to words
Never to be read.
Yet how I lived in those years.
And what hope I had in those words
And how I told my dreams in them
And how I tried to help those I loved.
No one needs the words
And no one wants them
But perhaps the life itself
In writing them
That too counts.
All the years of the words and the dreams and the hopes and the love of those I loved and the striving for greatness not to be.
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I knew this man
i knew this man some years ago
dearly beloved by four and two
back to fro his love went too
five of five he was and served
so to him a reward well deserved
I knew this man some years ago
worked the woods and suffered stings
lo among the rich he lives and pings
to whom benevolence was a reflex
and nothing came along was complex
i knew this man some years ago
who in zodiac learns a fable
and in unity became so able
over the Niger citadel he grew a lion
then he joined this army in Zion
i knew this man some years ago
he fell in love and changed his mind
now he hard sought someone to find
stood a lie to cute fairy tale damsel
how he christened her his own damisel
i knew this man some years ago
has broad shoulders and bulging chest
his time and strength he did well invest
i knew this man who loved himself
i knew this man in none but myself
poem by Ray Anyasi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
High School Days Of Haze
High school days of haze
Awakened in a twilight zone
Of a mindset of self-doubt
And indulgence.
Where each day fathoms
a pretentious existence
Of what is real doesn't matter
And what matter isn't real
High school days of haze
Strapped in a wrist
Is scared secrecy
Of a friendship bracelet
Plastered in the mimicry
Of Smiley faces
That will cut you,
In words and rumors
High school days of haze
Will birth a bully
Out of tombstone
And give rise to young dolts
Of cowardly endeavors;
that collects a heterogeneous mix
as in a fine filter of friends
From foes
High school days of haze
Where originality is a desire
Sough, but rarely obtained
the indifferent have
Found their difference
In a society of poise
The awkwardly corky
Grim in their authenticity
cultivates success
With hard work and creativity
High school days of haze
Where half dreaming
Become half wakefulness
So better smell the roses
For the throne have spikes
and the dartboard is you.
poem by Gebrela Ganao
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!