Is this the consciousness of the court or legal reality?
Osgoode Hall
Where the INNOCENT falls,
after blissfully attending the court’s role calls.
The insurgents
of black jackets,
white shirts,
black pants,
and business skirts
loaded with atas cases on the move.
As the penguin cloaks,
the red striped pants,
and blue coats
are held in reserve
to reinforce the ungodly band
To fiddle with dark things,
and little ‘white lies.’
To uplift their sins
to ‘white collar crimes,’
and insure no one does time.
The unlawful becomes lawful,
truth becomes lies.
The God witness factual reality
are given a legal cosmetic surgery.
To be unholy transformed into evidence
as witnessed by the court.
So the innocent can be made guilty,
and the fallible retain their stranglehold.
Legal sinful wickedness
becomes the policy of ethical morality.
I sure do love my baby girls.
‘Judicial Immunity’ is bought and sold
at the haggler’s market corner store
for thirty pieces of silver or choiced gold.
They all play on the same legal football team.
To protect the Banks,
secure the Franks,
to Forth Nox the pirate’s bay golden lake,
and destroy the innocent in their wake
An army of distractors,
legal sinful raven ravers.
Osgoode Hall
where the mighty rule,
the good people are considered stool
and the weak are set to rune.
With unclean hands
You drove me out of the Public Courtroom
kick me off the seat of judgement
and put me on the city’s streets
to eat your vexatious meat.
Best of the homeless foods.
Because you believe
a blackman’s family should not achieve,
the Negro male don’t deserve to work
pay taxes and succeed.
To love and mother beloved children.,
and be a member of your creed.
You so believe
the blackman is nothing but a criminal
A race Horse to be owned
or a vandal to be stoned.
A beast of burden to be wrecked
So his awesome potential is kept in check
and never unleashed.
To cause the planting of trees.
To be made a mockery of,
to live upon his knees begging ‘please…’
And for his children
to crawl upon their bellies like eals.
This is the only cog in the social machine
reserved for him and his children’s children.
If he should refuse their generous enslaving aid
then he shall be generously paid,
with brutalization
slanderlization
and bankrupt with a pound of lies,
to force you to want to die
even though weeping widows may spill their eyes,
and beloved babies may cry.
To make their malicious beliefs real
while pursuing their covert purpose.
Black children, does not deserve to blossom
like a beautiful yellow rose in ‘Hogtown’
or soar like a monarch butterfly.
But if you read the writing on the courthouse walls
I could have better food that I have chosen,
maybe that which my own hands has grown
Heed Her-Majesty’s call
and be fair to one and all
follow the protocols
written on public walls,
and hypocritical hallowed halls.
Hold close to your breast
the philosophy in steel capital letters,
written in English and French on a secret crest
in Osgood's Hall holy backyard
A parable of the Lion and the Lamb,
on a Seesaw with perfect balance
on the three dimensional wedge
on The Queen’s Bench.
“EVERY INDIVIDUAL IS EQUAL
BEFORE AND UNDER THE LAW
AND HAS THE RIGHT TO
THE EQUAL PROTECTION
AND EQUAL BENEFIT
OF THE LAW
WITHOUT DISCRIMINATION”
But these are empty words
written on hollow authority hearts.
Wasted spoken pearls
cast before freedom-rights stealing swines.
But, here I stand upon bipolar lands
suffering at the hands of perverted public plans.
Oh God, where has all my children gone?
Disgraced public Servant contravening UN Policies
Discrimination by Distinction enforced
by legal prejudgetice
with a ready sword in their right hand
they stomp down another innocent black man.
Quiet, subtle, systemic Racism.
Do they even remember the covenant promise plans?
Ronins,
public servants without a master
or public authority gone rogue.
The blasphemous loathing.
The dishonour.
Oh, the shameless shame
of the dishonorable same!
But it would seem
the purpose is to steel,
kill
and destroy
families upon this promise land
In conquest of the impecunious poor,
which is singing the “The Conqueror's Victory Song.”
The system of Lords and serfs
has been resurrected in full force.
Osgoode Hall
where the hord
of soulless lawyers march on.
Who are not dead,
but has cast off the feelings of being alive,
and evolved above the law of living.
Filling in the city streets
with homeless vagabonds.
After it’s COURT SERVICE WORKERS
under strict command
has prepared the uneven battle field,
in hiding your evidence,
stealing your innocence
and vanquishing the truth
to special reserved tombs.
Then try to feed you
with mockery insulting your intelligence
in making amends for ‘uncleanhands’
for pass forgotten inhumanity to man,
as legal sins to it’s own machiavellian plans.
To rejoice in the demise of fiduciary victims
To savor the victory of the innocent incense smells
of daily homeless victims.
While wallowing in their pride
of proceedings conquest
like happy ecstatic pampered pigs
frolicing in a trough of golden mud
with their fine French Wines
for a well earned festival time.
Oh, the bountiful feast at the round table
of ‘Bar’ and daggered Knights.
The herds of people
they put in there predetermined rightful place
as living scarecrows
for the few braveheart souls
of beggars,
haggs,
CAMH scavengers manufactured by scallywaggs.
By karma
we live or fall!
Where has all my family gone?
Leegal Poet
Wayne Ferron . All rights reserved @ copyright