Look, we prosecutors in Law Town
we are so well-practiced
that if we set our minds to it
we can even put on trial a turkey sandwich

In fact
just last week we managed
to get a banana convicted of ******;
sure, the conviction was overturned later on appeal -
but hey, the point is, we can skin anybody

I've abandoned a withered state, fumbling
Toward your ecstasy - opening windows to
A brave new world: What a scene to behold!
My heart has calmed consuming life’s tonic -
I'm filled with attraction, alike an alchemist
disposition to discover their personal legend
How far, do thoughts travel? Become aware,
we’ve covered only but a few hours of sleep
The vicissitudes of motion - by faith we move
At luminal speed, ’til visions dawn and we’re
Before a sky clearing moon
Shall we recline in that loft above?
While it be suspended in the fetal position?
Or tarry until morn’ when reflections are reborn
From spurts of spontaneity, to cycles of growth  
Apprehending blessings so as to appreciate the
distance of our obstacles
For camaraderie's had since severed –  
And authenticity perfidiously pilfered –
And liars became prosecutors of liars
Pregnant with delusions of grandeur
Freedom is the temporal prison for
Revolutionaries wails of conditions
Psalms of sentimentalism provoke
An emotional tug of war, conscripting
another soldier of love – wearing a fig
Leaf of inhibition and foul remains of
passed transgressions...
Where to turn to when you’re cold?
Intransigent echoes give no warmth
I’ve fallen into the (d)earth of sanity
Erstwhile
        Fumbling
                   Toward
                          Ecstasy

what poetry could not
the easiest access for rhyming,
e.g. the less i feel the more (a#)
i tend to harvest the ore (a#),
because it all feels domestic (b)
too modest too anachronistic (b)...
rhyme for me has become
deluded in terms of its importance
in poetry, it's un-important,
several technique references also,
but not so much, rhyming is the prime,
people everywhere are asking for abstraction,
they want to be able to read mathematics
by reading complex poetics
so they can craft a patent for ignoring
the verbs associated with mathematics
and entrench themselves in flanders fields
of nouns... i'm bilingual i have no talent
for crosswords, even the easiest ones,
but i can do a su doku... although not samurai
ones... if i state a vector and no one
travels along this route, it's no bother...
the last time i checked i felt inclined to
teach the south of Rodin's kiss, the north,
the west and the east in terms of changed narration
due to changed narration due to changed
perspective... all enclosures in cubic representation
where allowed, those in squared representations
of square on square like david's lyre of triangle
on triangle where the scientific approach
rather than lazy religious...
elsewhere two coordinations for the template
of abstracted three dimensional bodies
proved the one dimension that didn't exist
beyond the pinpoint "coordinate"...
otherwise known as the blind-spot.
poetry needs to evolve, it can't be stuck in the pit
of effort to keep with tradition, to keep with
technique... it has to forget technique
that might identify it as poetry,
the use of metaphor et al. does not necessarily
precipitate poetry, casual language usage
has become too stiff too predictable because
poetry has become so also...
imagine having other conversations,
philosophy has long quenched poetry,
crushed it, made it too democratic,
meaning anyone can write it,
only because plato's republic stated that
the rulers were not entertained by poets
in times when you couldn't record music
and stream it but had to be ready impromptu to
sing song... poetry, thanks to plato has become
too democratic, everyone's allowed a poem,
a demeaning signature of an X...
it has lost its republican status...
where is the: let poet ease my ear before i draft
the inauguration speech... so you see the tradition?
politicians want poets to speak with them,
they want one from the people to bless
the president's speech... but beyond that poetry
is a ***** art-form, and because of it,
it has become a wredna sztuka / wredna nauka,
which translates as: abhorring / abhorred art / science...
sztuka also translates as unit... hence the nuances
readied... like the reform of a 1984 law...
foresight accounted for, in terms of what
could be prevented... diluted understanding
does not necessarily involve an enlightened meaning,
in lawful terms it means confusing the populace,
confusing the strict guideline is a profit margin
in the courts of law...
the interpreter read the judge's speech
and didn't believe the necessary intricacy of ******,
he confused people with a gang of thirteen,
one carrying a knife, three carrying grit silver,
the rest not knowing... the three along with the one
accused, manslaughter the case resolve,
i understood the complexity of the high court judge's
wording, prime and auxiliary defendants,
prosecutors in tiers: victim, judge and jury...
the prosecutor tier missing because ineffective
and underpaid... prosecutors are effectively
the lawyers of the unread, uneducated...
currently there's an egyptian working the legal
system accused of the highest abomination
among the legal columns of un-excusable...
he committed a crime, and he's practising law...
one day his career will be over...
the man opposing never asked for reparations,
didn't ask for a jail cubic...
he asked for the beginning bias of the act not
perpetrated... ontologically speak, it's a question
of how man unto man should act, when given
the onomatopoeic simplicity of animals...
in england i will not receive justice,
i've been given a fake mental health history,
and thus dis-integrating from a society
i've known since the age of 8, i must someone
integrate my thought into my ethnic origin,
hence i need the european conglomerate of
many nations union...
because a psychiatrist in england
is actually a neurologist in poland
and the latter, dicta: if someone says you're
mentally ill, they're mentally ill themselves.

People are ****** to death by being gay or transgender or for marrying someone who their  parents did not arrange for them to marry. Girls are sold into *** slavery or worse forced to be submissive to their ****** or to be married to them.  Men, women  are killed for being Christians or are in hiding from their prosecutors. Children live on the streets eating garbage trying to provide for their youngest sibling because their parents had died. people  die every day by speaking out against something they believe in, you have the opportunity for free speech. Tell me how the government doesn't provide enough for you, how mistreated you are by men. You think you're so "oppressed" look at the world around you.

money bought him
the young flowers to
defile
money bought him
satisfaction's
smile

yet his money
bought him trouble
aplenty
for his victims were
well below the age of
twenty

his money will need
to buy good legal
representation
as the New York prosecutors
so desire his
incarceration  

money never purchased
him an ounce of
respect
on his money he'll be
left to endlessly
reflect

Was she but the fallen
Come down to raise an Arcadian hell,
Avoiding peace in graceful slalom,
Encased in her callous breathing shell,

Most would describe her as the Cacodemon,
With the eyes of baleful sin,
Defined by her nefarious inner demon,
That had beguiled her sanity to its whim,

She breathed of ethereal indignation,
Sought upon her by trenchant thoughts,
Damning her for indulging in feelings as dissipation,
By those who seek defamatory purity as frauds,

She was the unwanted succubus,
Whose earnest beauty cost too high a price,
Her darkly alluring convictions were a neuritis,
Brought too bare all adamant admirers vice,

She was thought to be the rakshasa,
Condemned for safeholding her own heart,
Not wanting persue any psychodrama,
Not wishing for a reckless counterpart,

So she clinged to her hellhounds,
To hold at bay any contemptuous intruder’s,
And so they dub her hell bound,
Ignorant of her past patronizing prosecutors.

She is the Cacodemon,
As she shuts her gates from all,
Trusting none acclaimed shaman,
As she has already been judged to fall

Have you wished someone dead?
Self doesn't count.
Terminally ill don't count,
In fact, that may be construed as kind.
No. Someone vibrant, strong,
Sure and vain, like:
The relentless bully,
The cop at your door,
The ridiculing teacher
Who made you the fool.
The betrayer and rumour monger,
Your prosecutors, some persecutors,
An ocassional critic.
The machine voice,
The government,
The ****** and child molester,
The boko haram (all terrorists)
Even some family members,
But never your children.
Some on your own list.
Close your eyes and pick one
With a pin.
You can't wait for the uncertainty
Of Karma or God,
Or them to go to the devil.
You can't depend on toilets falling from planes,
Tornados dropping houses.
It's not illegal: half of us do it.
Billions believe it possible.
I envision driving the final nail myself.
At certain times, it's true,
I regret the absence of hell
With its gnashing, its unquenchable fires,
That burn without consuming:
The smelly, curling, shrinking flesh,
The bubbling of fat through skin,
Because sudden death
Just doesn't cut it.

Fear of it all,
Not knowing when to fall,
Working so hard for far too long,
To have it all go wrong,

Fear of alpha,
We Made scenes,
My ******* is biblical,  

I was flung from the clouds,
For clapping louder than thunder,
He casted us out,
For tugging at his crown,
Because we challenged a throne,
That failed to fold,

Here and now,
Hand selected or arrested whatever’s suggested,
As long as there’s a mic,
I’ll take the stand,
And play witness,

Groping the book oh so popular with hotel nightstands,
And before your bailiff,
I’ll promise my honesty,
Give you false hope, in my sense of loyalty,

Fearing you all
You believe I love to fib,
That’s what you teach your kids,
So do you see the guilt gushing beneath my skin?

Witness to havoc,
The day we set Heaven ablaze,
In the name of Adam,
I promise your honor,
We fought for the liberation of Eve,

But that isn’t what Father preached,

Hand in the prosecutors,
With another on the switch, guess who the defendant is,
Decadence is looking for a conviction,  

The anti-Christ’s came before the Vatican,
He’s of your genetics,

It’s inconsiderate,
You even preached providence,
It’s inconvenient,
To find out your scriptures of full of ****,

Fear of it all,
I was on the sidelines,
And Casted out,

Knowing too much for sainthood,
I tinkered with the watchmaker’s minutes, and was flung from the clouds,

Envious of humans,
But opposed to walls in Eden,
I’ll caress scripture with my finger tips,
I’ll recited your rites of pagans,
And pander to a judge, jury, and all the slaughtered lambs,

He tossed us out,
For tugging at his crown, and falling out of line,

Just a sheep counted before sleep,
But we woke up,  
When we assaulted the Angelic Order,
For fear of it all,

From incubation to graduations,
You’ve been suffocated,
Socially lacerated,
Incapacitated,
By a genre of gimmicks
Governmental deliverance,
Poisoned pulpits of pretenses,
Symbiotically capable of lethally extorting martyrdoms
I watched him rip that rib
  
Fear of you all pulling the plug on me,

I’ve worked so hard for far too long,
To let you lower my corpse,
Beneath entitled toes,

Never finding unity,
Only your sensual weakness for a delusional *******,
Detrimental martyrdoms,
I challenged a throne that refused to fold,

Fear of Alpha,
He casted me out,
To where the brimstone never burns out,  

Foaming at the brainstem,
Unhinged with a taste for their *******,
Fear of you all,
Those that surrendered to bliss,

Now you get my fear of it all,
The day I set heaven ablaze was my ultimately reckoning,
Ignorant because being different required intelligence,
Only now do I see,
Only fools challenge divinity,

A keg stand takes three dipshits,
I challenged Alpha.
Of Beelzebub’s breed,
Falling out of line,
Feeling Gabriel’s heel,
Teacher’s pet had me by the throat.

Girl says no.
Girl says I said no.

Boy says nothing with his mouth but
moves with hands that say let me start my
cross-examination of the witness and
looks at her with confused eyes that say
may I remind you, ma’am, that you are under
oath. Would you like to change your answer?

Girl says no, I said no.
She is jury,
she is judge,
she is verdict.
She is gavel banging against sound block
on a case closed.

Boy still says nothing but sheds
his clothes like last season’s skin
and when his jeans hit the floor
they say Your Honor, I am asking
you to recuse yourself.
He is still confused because
buying dinner is just a more polite way
of buying a ******* her knees
so he wrongfully believes that
his libido has the right
to stand in as a judge in appeals court
to overturn her ruling.

This is the only trial that she will see
because prosecution does not want
to press charges with a case that they do not believe
will result in a guilty verdict and ****
is still widely accepted as
just a he-said-she-said civil case.



*According to the FBI Uniform Crime Reports out of every 100 rapes, 32 get reported to the police, 7 lead to an arrest, and 3 are referred to prosecutors.

Dazed , slumber mode
Late hour aggravation
Defective diode , electrical -
brain imbalance , television overload
Book weary , legal philosophy -
theory , fly swatter Republican
county prosecutors
Night cars bound for work
Greasing the soul eating machines -
of our Corporate government
Press conference Lead Monster wannabe
students of Plato
Cookie cutter American PlayDoh

In the darkness of uneasy streets where bodies meet you head on,fed upon disease and crime
and all the time you look behind to see just who is following,
and hollowing a place to hide,inside a doorway,
beggars lay with sleeping dogs their minds fogged by the turpentine and cheap red wine and stinking of cheap cigarettes.

Debts of honour written on unease and ladies of the night who offer such delight but for a price you cannot pay,
then soon the night turns to the day,like sinking rats,rats slink away and you are left alone,left to scurry home
and feeling right as rain again,forget the pain that marches through the mews and views that pass like gashes on a sordid skin,tattooed sin will leave its mark,
skin on skin within the dark and where or what was evident,you lent to prosecutors,who prosecuted ******,another sin and one more in,into the darkness of the street,one more follow,one more meet.

Cheats and harlots,charlatans,cut-throats,turncoats all are here,running ragged through these wolves that see a sheep and bleat you may
but day backs into night
where light fades with the rights you thought you had
and 'it's bad' is just another way to say,
you've got it wrong again
you're marching through the mews of pain
and wake to find you've lain
with beggars
and with sleeping dogs.

Surrender
Harden yourself
Say "I am priceless" and mean it
Because nothing could be truer

We all wish to be beautiful in the eyes of the beholder
On a **** beach
Unbiased and open minded
Immerse yourself in your own aspects, your assets

Understand that in the grand scheme of things you are your own worst critic
Being spoon -fed and stigmatized
Immeasurable passive-aggressiveness
Assert yourself when you're among the persecuting prosecutors in this co-ed world we live in

Capitalize on your inquisitiveness and wit
Ask more questions
You know you haven't got all the answers
Use your pheromones to your advantage

Trick questions coincide with equivocal answers
Are you a runaway train of person hood?
Going off the tracks?
Going out of your way to be the change you want to see in the world?

A child died
And race was involved.
A verdict acquitted him.

Some accepted it.
Some took it hard.
While others wonder and questioned the mindset of the jury.

Facts was twisted and mystified
But all things will be answered in time.

Maybe the prosecutors didn't present the facts well.
And the defense did it great.

Evidence support that authorities told him to stop.
I can't imagine anyone wants to be follow.

If self defense was the excuse.
Then, who should had been defending themselves?
Now, one walks away innocent.
And the other won't be able too.

But, we all know trouble follow a fool.
If we all should use this self defense scheme.
And blame it upon the threat we created.

When we go out of our way to **** another child.
But all things gets answer in time.

She doesn't look strange
Not at all dangerous
She's all sweet and smiles
So fragile looking
Could break her upon a scold..

Her body...
As light as a feather
Her moves...
As graceful as a dancer
Her face...
As innocent as a saint
So what is she doing in here?

In this freaking cold old cell
Surrounded with unfriendly walls
The lock as big as a bull's head
Total darkness during the day and night...
Nothing but paralysis in here..

What has she done so wrong?
to deserve this hell on earth?
She doesn't look harmful to me
She looks sincere and genuine..
Have I... have I been deceived by her sweet looks?
No..
I have this strong feeling
Something must have gone so wrong
Unless the prosecutors could prove me wrong
I bet this pretty woman in your prison
is more right that wrong....
Tell me what could turn
a purely innocent..
a sweet woman like her
into a brutal monster?

Shun thyself
Taketh the needle out
Stick thyself
Politicians of doubt

Lay down thy stone
Bury thine head
Let the bird flyeth free
And remember thine dead!!!!

Crying shame of pain and doom
Walk the line,
Play thy tunes!!!!

Heavy hearted
Soul of man
Tidy up thy mansion
Do the best thou can

Pull the trigger
Drop thy bombs
Smoke out the ashes
The clay turned dung

Tiger eyes
Diamond blood
Tombstones to plant
Names to shrug

Grow thy beards
Where thy plad
Wear glasses of fashion
And clothes of drag

Maketh thy pupils
Large and small
Taketh thine pills
Behind the wall

Tip thy bottles
Back to false success
Go to school
No rules to thine own stress

Get to work
Five minutes til
Wear thy mask a while
Don't  pay thy bills!!!

Smile as thou runneth
And runneth as thou kills
Take the stab from thy own knife
At thine own will

Mask thyself
In blackened grey
Gravedigger
Bury mine grave

Help thyself
Help noone else
Crawling out a hole
That thy parent's hast built

Mommy and daddy
Don't poison me
This stomach's full
Of sinful seed

Hypocrite's judge
Critics ashamed
Bring me sunlight
Of ****** rain

Teareth me down
Build the wall
Case me like benches
In trenched bathroom stalls

Proud and dumb
Dumb and proud
Thy heart still aches
To the fate of the crowd

Innocent murmers
Poems a must
Cops still raging
To a hippy bus

Prosecutors take thy stance
Shackle me
Taketh mine romance
Waketh me at 9:23

It's time
Maby its thou I shalt see

I write my poems
Then post them online
For all the world to see
And I never noticed that I
Am writing the tale of me.
I never felt a moment's fear
That some would read here
Any kind of indictment
Or make hurtful judgment,
Though some have before.
Even those I don’t ignore.

I am weaving piecemeal
A  harlequin coat of words
That, when they are heard,
Tell you more than asking
More than admitting aloud
Under oath to an eager crowd
Of prosecutors and accusers
And those who support me
Waiting in their seats, hoping
I won’t quit telling, revealing
The tale of a man who rhymes.
It is nearly my only crime.

Please accept, it is only humming,
Something you may do at work;
Me jerking a pen and scribbling.
Don’t bother with quibbling
Because that is what it is,
Doodling, noodling, muttering
But doing it on paper, lettering
Making tuneless music from me
So others can see and happily
Decide to keep it or share it.
I don’t care. It matters not to me.
I give my literary gifts freely.

I watched the Lord upon the cross,
Until he ceased to breathe,
He stopped - like strangled albatross,
With fledglings to bereave.

I peeped - at first, in horror -
The people's prophet nailed,
To the Emperor's wood masonry,
A craft for which his father - hailed -

Then I peered at greater length,
Though wanting to relent,
I cannot deny the sight of pain,
Beget so I can repent.

A sight sublime - yet awful,
Suffice to inspire hymns,
The people's prophet - crucified,
To indulge a tyrant's whims.

Yet towards his prosecutors, kind
So loving and forgiving,
Against that Truth - no armory
In it, Lord ever living.

For Our Special Prosecutors,
Who Guard and Guide Us

Oh, borscht!  Those pesky Russkies under my bed
Were marching around all night, changing my votes
Beaming mysterious rays through my sleepy head
And snooping through my lesson plans and notes

They programmed my radio with Marx and Lenin
Plastered a poster of Putin to my wall
Sailed Admiral Kuznetzov across my linen
Layered a Petrograd accent over my Texas drawl

The special prosecutor says no further discussions –
Everything’s the fault of those perfidious Russians!

D.T.:
Why does everybody
Always want to see
My tax returns?
If I could have a secret,
It really ought to be
My tax returns.
Inflating values to get your loans:
There is really nothing to it.
Deflating values to lower taxes:
Doesn’t everybody do it?

Why do prosecutors
Want to have in hand
My tax returns?
I don’t think it’s fair
That they can all demand
My tax returns.
When you’re rich, doesn’t that mean
You should get a little break?
I’m in trouble mainly because
I give far less than I take.

I’m being hassled
‘Cause I want to hide
My tax returns.
Judges are stupid
To say I must provide
My tax returns.
If they say I committed fraud,
I’ll say that’s just fake news.
If they try to make me talk,
I will simply refuse!

I know that my fans
Don’t give a hoot about
My tax returns.
I can cheat and they’ll say that’s okay.
Winning means having all the right tools
To maneuver your way around the rules.
I’m *******
Because I have to show
MY TAX RETURNS!

-by Bob B (2-26-21)

I'm sitting in my living room replaying everything you said to me, and thinking, no matter the amount of brutal words used you would have never hurt me the way he did
the way he put my hands on me-
the amount of times i have counted the clouds on our tacky living room wallpaper, my heart and stomach are not positioned correctly and I can hear me telling you no, no, no repeatedly
but you not being able to hear because desire has taken over your whole body and replaced it as the only thing you know best.
I may not be full of much faith at this point, but the one thing I do agree with is how Jesus forgave his prosecutors.
I will forgive you but I will never forget
I will not forget the words you whispered, the
way you thought it was ok-
the emotional scars on my body and mind will live on to tell the tale of that night in full detail, but I will keep scrubbing my body, and washing my hands until the dirt I can see is no longer visible.
I will look into the eyes of the next boy I think I love and question whether or not he will hurt me the way you did-
the skeleton in my closet will have to come out eventually, but every time I reopen that door I will be faced with the sad reality that is life.

You hurt inside.
You silently cry.
And feels no one's there to listen.

You write in diary.
You think about your subject of conflicts.
And feels no one's there.

You secretly send out clues and find many doesn't believe you.
And you wonder, who can you turn too?
Than finally you explode releasing all the pain within.

Cause you found that one trusted friend.
And it was JESUS.

He stated in words put all your trust in him.
He will handle your prosecutors.
He will punish those that harmed you.

For far too long Trump has gotten
Away with far too much.
For years, he has thought he is
Someone the law can't touch.

As president, he thought he'd get
Away with anything.
Ask the far-right extremists whom
He's taken under his wing.

He thinks that running for president
Means his chances are slim
That all the crimes he might have committed
Are going to catch up with him.

By yelling "Witch hunt!" and lying he hopes
That prosecutors will cower.
There is nothing I know of that
Can quench his thirst for power.

How stupid does he think we are--
Voters here in the States--
When he supports his fake electors?
That's how he operates.

In different states he's facing charges.
Watch each news report.
For a number of months he will be
Spending some time in court.

Prosecutors, do your work.
Juries, listen hard.
Trump's attorneys will grasp at straws.
You'd best be on your guard.

He MUST be held accountable;
If guilty, he should pay.
May the rule of law win out;
May justice win the day!

-by Bob B (7-29-23)

WEB: The Mahmudiyah killings were the gang-**** and killing of 14-year-old Iraqi girl Abeer Qassim Hamza al-Janabi by United States Army soldiers on March 12, 2006, and the ****** of her family, in a house to the southwest of Yusufiyah, a village to the west of the town of Al-Mahmudiyah, Iraq. Charged with the crimes were five U.S. Army soldiers of the 502nd Infantry Regiment consisting of (I) SGT Paul E. Cortez, (II) SPC James P. Barker, (III) PFC Jesse V. Spielman, (IV) PFC Brian L. Howard, and (V) PFC Steven D. Green, whom the U.S. Army discharged before becoming aware of the crime. Abeer Qassim Hamza al-Janabi was ***** and murdered after her family consisting of her 34-year-old mother Fakhriyah Taha Muhsin, 45-year-old father Qasim Hamza Raheem, and six-year-old sister Hadeel Qasim Hamza were killed. Spielman and Green have been convicted and three others have pleaded guilty.**

World news
US soldier sentenced to 100 years for Iraq **** and ******
The Iraqi identity cards of Abeer Qassim Hamza al-Janabi, her mother, Fakhriya Taha al-Janabi (l) and her father Qasim Hamza al-Janabi
The Iraqi identity cards of Abeer Qassim Hamza al-Janabi, her mother, Fakhriya Taha al-Janabi (l) and her father Qasim Hamza al-Janabi. Photograph: Reuters

Ewen MacAskill in Washington and Michael Howard in Baghdad
Friday 23 February 2007 04.15 EST First published on Friday 23 February 2007 04.15 EST
A US soldier was sentenced to 100 years in prison yesterday for one of the worst known cases involving US troops in Iraq - the gang **** and ****** of a 14-year-old girl and the killing of her father, mother and sister.
The horrific slaying of Abeer Qassim al-Janabi and her family happened in Mahmoudiya, around 20 miles south of Baghdad, on March 12 last year.

In spite of the apparently long prison sentence, Sergeant Paul Cortez, 24, can expect to be released on parole in about ten years under a plea bargain deal. He pleaded guilty and agreed to testify in the cases of others alleged to have been involved.

He was given a dishonourable discharge from the army.

Cortez, who broke down in tears earlier this week as he described his role in the **** and murders, is the second soldier to plead guilty. He told the military court at Fort Campbell of the day he had gone with others to the girl's home and ***** her.

The killing was originally reported to be the work of insurgents, but the role of the soldiers emerged in June.

In November, one of the soldiers, specialist James Barker, 24, was sentenced to 90 years in a military prison.

Another, specialist Steven Green, 21, who had been discharged from service with a "personality disorder" before his superiors knew about the crime, is accused of being the ringleader and will face a civilian court because he is no longer in the army.

Two others, private Jesse Spielman, 22, and Bryan Howard, 19, face courts martial in relation to the incident, though neither is accused of participating in the ****.

All five were members of the 101st Airborne Division, based at Fort Campbell, which straddles the Kentucky-Tennessee border.

Cortez, who is from Barstow, California, pleaded not guilty to separate charges of premeditated ******. He was found not guilty on these charges on Wednesday after prosecutors failed to convince a judge that he knew of what they said was Green's intent to ****** the whole family.

Cortez told the court about how the crime was thought up: "While we were playing cards Barker and Green started talking about having *** with an Iraqi female. Barker and Green had already known ... " he said, before breaking down in tears.

He continued after a minute: "Barker and Green had already known what house they wanted to go to ... knew only one male was in the house, and knew it would be an easy target."

At the home, Cortez said he and others took Janabi's father, mother and younger sister into a bedroom and kept her in the living room.

He then described Barker held her down while he undressed her and proceeded to **** her. 'After I was done, myself and Barker switched spots, he said.

He claimed that Green shot and killed the girl's parents and younger sister. "During the time me and Barker were ****** Abeer, I heard five or six gunshots that came from the bedroom. After Barker was done, Green came out of the bedroom and said that he had killed them all, that all of them were dead."

Cortez said he acted as a lookout while Green then ***** the girl.

He claimed Green then shot Janabi several times in the head, and the soldiers poured petrol over her body and set it alight to try to hide the evidence of their crime. Cortez burned his own clothes and Spielman allegedly threw the AK-47 used to **** the family in a canal. Specialist Christopher Till, testified that Cortez told him about the killings in June. "He seemed very remorseful," Till said.

In another development, Iraq's security forces were yesterday facing fresh allegations of brutal ****** assault after four soldiers were accused of ****** a 50-year-old Sunni Turkomen woman and attempting to **** her two daughters in the north-western city of Tal Afar earlier this month.

It is the second allegation of ****** assault against Iraqi forces to surface this week. On Monday, a 20-year-old Sunni woman alleged that she was ***** by three policemen after being detained during a search of her house in Baghdad.

Crimes and misdemeanours, I’m no boy scout
Every law of the land, I have tried to flout
There’s not a line I haven’t crossed
No rule book I haven’t tossed

Every trial and every tribulation
Enemy number one of the nation
If the evidence is to be believed
There’s no honour among thieves

Standing in the box, swearing on the book
Lawyers trying to get me off the hook
The judge, jury, executioner too
Prosecutors trying to sue

Lock em up and hang em high
Leave them to rot and out to dry
Serving my sentence, doing my time
Paying the price for committing the crime

In my cell, behind bars
Solitary moments, battle scars
Ball and chain, within these walls,
Inmates, jailbirds, guards and brawls

The clinking of the keys as lights go out
Screams of “I’m innocent”, without a shadow of a doubt
The morning breaks and still in my cell
This is living, but a living hell

No remorse, only time will tell
Spending the nights in a Punishment hotel
Seeing out my time, seeking some peace
Longing for day of my release

my lawyers do excuse me
from the allegations
that my prosecutors
accuse me of

with full attention
does my judge listen
to every argument
from a party to another

so decides my judge
whether to declare
or not - that i
am thereby proven guilty

“We can’t go arresting people for what they say in a private conversation…I’ve no doubt we shall come to that eventually, but at the present stage of our struggle for freedom, it just can’t be done.”

-Evelyn Waugh, *Put Out More Flags

Our leaders now investigate silences
And threaten imprisonment casually
For thoughts unknown and acts never considered
Under secret indictments alien to law

Star Chambers assemble in conclaves dark
Special prosecutors instruct their Cromwells
To find a law, or interpret one so
To make each midnight knock a work of art -

Mind what you don’t say, and how you don’t say it:
Our keepers now investigate silences

By: Cedric McClester

Benjamin Netanyahu
Was indicted
But then we knew
That’s who the evidence
Would lead to
Therefore, I say, thus
It was fraud and bribery
Compounded by a breach of trust

He  finds himself in
A precarious position
He refuses to be compliant
Because he has ambition
Now he’s threatening the prosecutors
I think he’s going fishing
By striking that defiant tone
He must be in the Twilight Zone

You got to find it strange
Different leader but
So little has changed
They both are facing charges
Due to greed
And personal largesse
They’re corrupt to the bone
So their problems are their own

No wonder they’re
The best of friends
Birds of a feather
Exchanging grins
And both guilty of
Homemade sins
Hoping to escape
With intact skins




            Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019. All rights reserved.

The overall cost in human lives of American actions in the Philippines was horrific. One scholar has concluded concerning the American occupation that "In the fifteen years that followed the defeat of the Spanish in Manila Bay in 1898, more Filipinos were killed by U.S. forces than by the Spanish in 300 years of colonization. 1.5 million died out of a total population of 6 million."**

World news
US soldier sentenced to 100 years for Iraq **** and ******
The Iraqi identity cards of Abeer Qassim Hamza al-Janabi, her mother, Fakhriya Taha al-Janabi (l) and her father Qasim Hamza al-Janabi
The Iraqi identity cards of Abeer Qassim Hamza al-Janabi, her mother, Fakhriya Taha al-Janabi (l) and her father Qasim Hamza al-Janabi. Photograph: Reuters
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Ewen MacAskill in Washington and Michael Howard in Baghdad
Friday 23 February 2007 04.15 EST First published on Friday 23 February 2007 04.15 EST
A US soldier was sentenced to 100 years in prison yesterday for one of the worst known cases involving US troops in Iraq - the gang **** and ****** of a 14-year-old girl and the killing of her father, mother and sister.
The horrific slaying of Abeer Qassim al-Janabi and her family happened in Mahmoudiya, around 20 miles south of Baghdad, on March 12 last year.

In spite of the apparently long prison sentence, Sergeant Paul Cortez, 24, can expect to be released on parole in about ten years under a plea bargain deal. He pleaded guilty and agreed to testify in the cases of others alleged to have been involved.

He was given a dishonourable discharge from the army.

Cortez, who broke down in tears earlier this week as he described his role in the **** and murders, is the second soldier to plead guilty. He told the military court at Fort Campbell of the day he had gone with others to the girl's home and ***** her.

The killing was originally reported to be the work of insurgents, but the role of the soldiers emerged in June.

In November, one of the soldiers, specialist James Barker, 24, was sentenced to 90 years in a military prison.

Another, specialist Steven Green, 21, who had been discharged from service with a "personality disorder" before his superiors knew about the crime, is accused of being the ringleader and will face a civilian court because he is no longer in the army.

Two others, private Jesse Spielman, 22, and Bryan Howard, 19, face courts martial in relation to the incident, though neither is accused of participating in the ****.

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All five were members of the 101st Airborne Division, based at Fort Campbell, which straddles the Kentucky-Tennessee border.

Cortez, who is from Barstow, California, pleaded not guilty to separate charges of premeditated ******. He was found not guilty on these charges on Wednesday after prosecutors failed to convince a judge that he knew of what they said was Green's intent to ****** the whole family.

Cortez told the court about how the crime was thought up: "While we were playing cards Barker and Green started talking about having *** with an Iraqi female. Barker and Green had already known ... " he said, before breaking down in tears.

He continued after a minute: "Barker and Green had already known what house they wanted to go to ... knew only one male was in the house, and knew it would be an easy target."

At the home, Cortez said he and others took Janabi's father, mother and younger sister into a bedroom and kept her in the living room.

He then described Barker held her down while he undressed her and proceeded to **** her. 'After I was done, myself and Barker switched spots, he said.

He claimed that Green shot and killed the girl's parents and younger sister. "During the time me and Barker were ****** Abeer, I heard five or six gunshots that came from the bedroom. After Barker was done, Green came out of the bedroom and said that he had killed them all, that all of them were dead."

Cortez said he acted as a lookout while Green then ***** the girl.

He claimed Green then shot Janabi several times in the head, and the soldiers poured petrol over her body and set it alight to try to hide the evidence of their crime. Cortez burned his own clothes and Spielman allegedly threw the AK-47 used to **** the family in a canal. Specialist Christopher Till, testified that Cortez told him about the killings in June. "He seemed very remorseful," Till said.

In another development, Iraq's security forces were yesterday facing fresh allegations of brutal ****** assault after four soldiers were accused of ****** a 50-year-old Sunni Turkomen woman and attempting to **** her two daughters in the north-western city of Tal Afar earlier this month.

It is the second allegation of ****** assault against Iraqi forces to surface this week. On Monday, a 20-year-old Sunni woman alleged that she was ***** by three policemen after being detained during a search of her house in Baghdad.

All honesty, mental illness affects many.
This we all be willing to admit.
But some are mastering the tricks of avoiding justice.
How?
By using the mental illness excuse.
We seeing in the news.
And more so by what gender?
And what racial group?

It long been a staple of the wealthy to use tricks?
Now, we seeing the middle class mastering the tricks.
Trying to keep that child out of prison by claiming mental illness.

Multiple killings, from them at work?
Using racial hatred to **** many within the church.
And off course in the school.
And when facing punishment from prosecutors and judges.
There you hear about their mental illness.

We were trying to get him/her help?
Still containing the ownership of many weapons.
Others, laugh loudly with truth.

If they without use this excuse?
Innocent guilt and prison they will see.
And they probably the one most in need.

Now, to those crying to not build more prison?
Just remember all killers don't have a mental illness.

(The following poem could be sung to the melody of Kander and Ebbs' "Meeskite," from the stage production of CABARET. If you don't know the melody, go to YouTube and search for "Meeskite Cabaret" and you can listen to it.)

Mug shot, mug shot…
Trump seems proud that now he has a
Mug shot, mug shot.
I would not be proud if I were he;
But that's so like him.
Will there be damage?
The chance is slim.
Mug shot, mug shot…
Look at it; you'll see it's quite a
Mug shot, mug shot--
Such a scowl and such a look of
Evil and sheer disdain.
He hopes it helps his campaign.

He has four indictments.
Surely, he knows his plate is full,
And when people mention it, he will reply,
"It's BULL!"
He just doesn't get it.
He feels he should be above the law.
His corrupt acts have caught up with him.
Now watch him squirm. Hurrah!

Mug shot, mug shot…
I have seldom seen a viler
Mug shot, mug shot.
He knows that his base will love it.
He thinks it is deluxe,
For he will rake in the MAGAbucks!

Mug shot, mug shot…
Former presidents who have a
Mug shot, mug shot,
Simply don't exist, for Trump
Has turned out to be the first.
For vengeance Trump now has thirst.

Some of us wonder:
In all his trials how will he fare?
His major worry is who's going to do…
His hair!
Still he's complaining,
Trying to turn his base against
The prosecutors and judges, too,
Pretending he's incensed.

Mug shot, mug shot…
Trump has an unprecedented
Mug shot, mug shot.
What will happen if he
Is convicted on many counts?
We'll have to watch as the pressure mounts.
Mug shot, mug shot…
I hope that I never have a
Mug shot, mug shot.
Who would want one that would make you
Look like an evil grump?
Only someone like Trump!

-by Bob B (8-27-23)

Dignity is measured only
By if one has a heart
Which giveth to the meek and lonely
And doth Love's truths impart

Not one of all the prosecutors
Who get the people's prophets
Can act as legitimate interlocutors
For indulging whims of profit

As they - conceited - lying
Maximise only their own gains
I see my kin above them flying
And write them sad refrains

(This poem can be sung to the tune of the 1922 song "Toot…Toot…Tootsie, Good-bye.")

Good-bye, Santos,° good-bye!
Wipe that tear from your eye.
The fraud you have committed
And other crimes from which you clearly benefited
Have caught up with you now.
That's why Congress said, "Ciao!"
Which means "so long."
I could be wrong,
But you won't find much favor if you sing your sad song.
Just you try to deny
What you did. So good-bye!

Good-bye, Santos, good-bye!
You think you're quite a guy!
How could your fans give you a nod
With all your lies and money laundering and fraud.
Are you really for real?
You have lost your appeal.
What will you do
Now that you're through?
Prosecutors probably are looking for you.
Will you eat humble pie?
Hope so, Santos. Good-bye!

-by Bob B (12-1-23)

°George Santos: former U.S. representative from New York's 3rd congressional district

DT:
It makes no sense to me at all.
It's really stupefying.
Why don't more Americans
Believe me when I'm lying?

I have had SO much practice.
It's SUCH a cinch to do.
After telling fibs, I start
Believing they are true.

My fans, of course, have no trouble.
They will not deceive me.
I could say the earth is flat,
And they all would believe me.

Republican opponents are scared
Because I'm in control.
I'm ahead of all of them
In poll after poll.

I have no fear of all of these
Indictments. They're baloney!
If prosecutors say that they
Have evidence, it's phony.

Me a co-conspirator?
Well, now that depends.
I prefer to say that it
Is friends helping friends.

That ****** misconduct crap--
That's another gripe.
I wouldn't touch those women, for
They're clearly not my type!

I lie and say that Democrats
Like an open border
And socialism. Thus, I cause
Chaos and disorder.

Oath Keepers, Qanon,
And Proud Boys are my fans.
I can count on them to help me
Carry out my plans.

Even if I am convicted,
That would be okay
Because I know my fans would still
Send their votes my way.

If I continue to muddy the waters,
I'll be sitting pretty,
For I'll turn people against the system.
Aw, what a pity!

I laugh when people talk about
Accountability,
For don't they know that all those rules
Do not apply to me?

I'll have to play the religion card
To bring in millions again.
Here's my plea: "O Praise the Lord
And send those checks! Amen!"

-by Bob B (8-4-23)