The courtroom was buzzing,
Deals were struck,
Before Her Worship
Heard from the docket.

Will Luke be saved.

A line of roguish consorts
All on Legal Aid,
Paraded before Her,
In judical chains.

And the lawyers are asking
About The Game of Thrones.

There are too many cops,
All creased and shiny,
Carrying file folders,
Outling the crimes.

I was a spectator,
Small in my corner,
As Luke went to stand
Before his maker,
Before his deal breaker.

All charges dropped,
As if a matter of course;
Except for the charges
From the laswyer and court.

I work for Jones & Co.
You are likely somewhere down below,
I have grown used to this unnatural height.
Once, here, as a younger man, I read articles,
working on cases just long enough to cultivate indifference.
My first firm party, I was made to wear an ivy laurel.
We were mingling on the penthouse deck,
when a gust unceremoniously removed it from my head.

Jones is a superstitious man,
he has a dream-catcher above his office door.
He designed a vaulted spiral staircase on our fifty-first floor.
The one separates Jones from his company,
the other, us from below.
Five years of billing in six minute blocks,
labyrinthine increments, Herculean costs.
A kind of optic chiasma where the nerves cross and people get lost.



B.E. Twain

"Now listen up," the Professor said
With his big brain blown-up inside his big head,
"When I get old and frail and weary
Your life may become, quite frankly, quite dreary.
For life without knowledge is something to flee,
And knowledge, we know, is stored inside me.
So I make myself clear in this moment right now
To have you, my son, take on a great vow.
Once I pass on, the world is hopeless,
Unless a Professor remains in existence.
So you as my son must become like me,
You're the next Professor-- that's my decree."
Don't ask me why me, he said what he said,
And what he says is law-- coming from that big head.
Now I've received a new occupation,
And I'm the luckiest kid in all of creation!
The next Professor... Just think, that's me!
And then I get to make the next decree!

THE MOST POPULAR VIEW ON POLITICAL EARTH!

*Here it is: they believe by some decree that if a marriage
must happen at a church, no one by any means should
question this word: have you ever even heard?
They want to protect their supposed right to decide
not to help marry the gays-even from a distance!
Even if it's not at their church! They believe that somehow it's
by religious opinion they are outside the law, that
it doesn't need apply to them. "Be abused" all you want,
but if you want my thought, not to be blunt, it's just an
excuse to treat gays differently, get our way-when it
comes to marriage, how great their immaturity!

He was then just twelve or thereabouts,
The precocious filly in unconcealed heat,
who incessantly professed love to him
every time  looking  as if she is
either getting asphyxiated
or in acute spasm of some kind
gave him pains regularly,
in no way love related,
in that tender age she was
such a fire ball to let her anywhere near.

Then he had to let his kitten out of the bag,
he fancies someone else, not her,
this one was none other than
the one she loved to hate, day and night!

She exploded all over the place , in a second!
a sort of guy fawkes day fire works! no less!
spewed fire and brimstone, reservred at hand
caused by frustration,an only child really knows

he told her, it's a sin
sticking a pin on her antagonist's chin
and then pricking him with it again,
and again without any logical reason
letting blood to make a dotted line behind them.

He could see pre- menstrual strain,
playing havoc, build up her anger,to a level higher
he was sympathetic to such plights
a girl has to deal with alone,
and all the while to be concealed, from the eyes of others
he  did everything to cool her temper.
Once in control of her volatile emotions,
she smiles and tells in a matter of fact tone;
"If a grown up, I would have sure
got both of you killed for betrayal,
count lucky,you two, I am still a kid
though menstruating and look ripe,
mum and dad won't approve
culpable homicide, by their only kid"

He was stunned by the glimpses
of the criminal mind yet did appreciate,
her excellence in circumspection. bless her!

"I can get you arrested for the conspiracy to ****"
intervened his ferocious sweet heart.
"You don't even a moment consider,
this poor chap is younger than us both,
you tell me what prevents him and I
falling for each other, not just a predilection this
for wild ***, hormone driven at this age,
as your ****** up mind would want you to think,
now tell me how  it betrays you , miss hothead?"

She demanded, the other was still in rage
"Lawyer materials show early promise"
now he muses  amused, looking back  at the episode,
two brilliant legal eagles , announcing the intent!


"my only sin your honors, consider
is to be in love  or not falling in love?
Am I not entitled to have my choice?
though I may be an underage kid?"

When time tells you it's tale,  you sit pop eyed!

Now and then he catches up with those two , belligerently brilliant,
thinking criminally so early they easily acquired legal plumes,
legal eagles in same law firm, fighting for other things, not love
even now both treat  him badly, for being what he continues to be
a media vulture, flying above tearing in to their cases ferociously.

If
three years
is
difficult,
this year
i'll be
STRONGER.

We bend the rules and use them like we're using tools
sitting on our conscience comfortably like we sit on stools
we've ignored the stairs because we all wish for elevators disappointed many friends and turned them
to aggrieved foes because there's pride in having haters
nothing matters, nothing ever did as long as we got the paper
life is a gamble we claim but we've mastered all the tosses
living a life of camouflage taking cover cause we're someone's debtor we've given up the schools of thought, now profits can be losses
we're lost in the wilderness, enslaved by temptations and darkness
because we've been convinced that as slaves we're the bosses
we're reducing our lifespan with the tattoos
and skin mutilations of reckless living we call uniqueness
we're free in chains of our addictions,like caterpillars do cocoons
we're giving with strings attached and foolishly term that philanthropy
penning discombobulations and terming that philosophy
politics is about the money statesmanship is as scarce as honey
the foolish took on roles of imparting wisdom into future generations
we can't remember our roots, history's on tattered
pages of time and rhyme in unclear narrations
We weld our own chains yet shackled we start freedom fighting
We give in what we can get, forgive and not forget
Courage has walked out on our race, perhaps she was never here
so much so that we'll scream "go to Hell" to the dare devils
instead of playing the game of life up to their level
our lives are ships we steer into stormy waters we can not sail
then whimper (at every slap of monster waves) out of fear
we've ignored the caution, dance in the rain,not storms with the hail
hence we're stuck in a darkness we cannot counter
living on the fast lane, supersonic places without room to saunter
memories are left in the pictures for we remember only nothing
present when nature died,in pain she screamed for our help in vain,
for while she bled her life away blindly we were watching
now that her monsters have come to warm the treacherous Earth
with nightmares of heat, typhoons,hurricanes we realise her worth
we are architects of our own doom, of the towers of gloom
congesting the skyline with scrappers of bad choices
and denying the rays of righteousness a path to our visage
we've altered the world into dark sweltering global room
we're preachers and philosophers who need to listen to our own message
we're the ***** that needs shaving, the righteous who need saving
a wide path which needs paving,we're the change we're craving
for it's utter madness and strange to say the world needs change
when we, we are the world, we are the ***** in politics
players of the game,the authors of the lyrics
and with good interred to our bones can be the saints to the relics
we're a lost generation and the campus we need to be found
we're the liberty we seek for we are the shackles to which we're bound
reality is twitter for most times we control the trends
we can unbend the bended rules and change how this story ends

Running is suppose to make you feel free
Unless you're running from the law
You're free until they catch you