Well, I can't sleep so I wrote a poem instead

[mickey_one]

"Victim" I have seen it so often-


at the centre and
at the edge
the bereaved is the most inconvenient
feature of a trial

there may not be a handbook
with a guide
to controlled denial
of reality,
perhaps it is just tradition
that demands it

feelings are guarded
by ready boxes of tissues
and water is offered
to dilute emotion

performance is judged
by the award
of judicial lollipops,
the first prize being
an acclaim of
of “your remarkable dignity”

your dead child
would be proud of you.

[Diane]

Hi Mike, what a powerful poem about how we esteem the denial of grief in our culture, and especially in formal situations. The more extreme the nature and circumstance of the loss, the greater the requirement for 'dignity'. There's no real dignity in falsity, but it does allow things to run smoothly. It's sad that such pain has to be 'unspeakable' in public, and sometimes even in private, and sometimes even within the individual themselves.

Diane

[LaurieAK]

Michael~

It's a wonder you can ever sleep, at all.

If lawyers are accused of being 'heartless' it is most probably a matter of self-preservation and not a personal state of fact. I get this now.

But, you must continue to deny reality and get on with Business. It is the only way. Sigh.

Stunning poem.

later,
L

[lizzytysh]

Dear Michael ~

Your poem moves me in many ways, as you have given voice to the multiple, conflicting truths that surround tragedy, and those left behind. I've seen it up close and it's horrible. You've expressed this ripped, torn, and shredded situation as powerfully as anyone ever could. In a 'deceptively' simple and 'benign' way, your final, brief stanza encompasses the immense tragedy and unbearable intensity of it all. My heart is with you, as you try to sleep and move on to still another day.

Thank you for sharing with us this window into your heart and soul.


Love,
Elizabeth/Lizzy

[mickey_one]

thanks for your generous comments. I now see it as a starting bid and my next sleepless night, or time off (ha ha ha!) I will add some detail and remove some abstractions.

[lizzytysh]

Hi Michael ~

Please don't change anything on your original. Leave it as is, and do another, either in a new thread, or later on in this one.

That's my request.

~ Lizzy

I've not taken any chances on it, and just copied it, as it currently is.

[Young dr. Freud]

Well, believe it or not...this one is O.K. It's the first one I've seen where your ego wasn't front and center.

The first stanza needs work though.


YdF

[mickey_one]

the bereaved really are at both the centre and the edge. they are the most compelling of "actors" on the Court stage but often they are peripheral to the issues. sometimes they are called for dramatic effect only.

anyway, off to bed now to nurse away the last stubborn bits of flu/cold.

[Andrew McGeever]

Dear mickey-one,
You have the makings of a poem: it's in there, needs working on for sure, but please revisit it.
Dis-engage, then re-investigate the material.
Don't get me wrong: there are strong currents here, and could be pulled together to craft a poem that works.
That's my honest opinion,
Andrew.

[~greg]

Dear Michael,

it'd be kinda funny if you got The Bird Flu

you being "President of Bird On A Wire is Crap Society"
and all.


~greg.

[Young dr. Freud]

This is fine.

at the centre and
at the edge

This is very clumsy.

the bereaved is the most inconvenient
feature of a trial

YdF

[mickey_one]

Dear Michael,

it'd be kinda funny if you got The Bird Flu

you being "President of Bird On A Wire is Crap Society"
and all.


~greg.

but not very very funny,. this geezer I know called Geoffrey has inside information that the Bird Flu can be on the dead side of deadly and then who will open the Events and arrange for postcards to be sent to dearly beloved absentees?

[mickey_one]

This is fine.

at the centre and
at the edge

This is very clumsy.

the bereaved is the most inconvenient
feature of a trial

YdF

I am happy with the idea of this piece and I will deffo. find time to improve it.

[~greg]

but not very very funny,. ... who will open the Events and arrange for postcards to be sent to dearly beloved absentees?

You are quite right of course.
That wasn't very funny at all.

And it wouldn't be!


However, since I didn't get a postcard the last time,
I have to stand on principle here:

It be kinda funny.

~~
ps
(i've been feeding birds out in the yard,
just outside the sliding glass patio door
- Songbird Garden Gourmet Blend,
premium songbird food.
And i've been learning a lot about the disgusting
little critters.
Boy are they dumb!
Every single day one of them flys into
the patio door and knocks itself out, for
about 10 minutes....
...it'd make you smile. :)

[~greg]

Dear Michael,




Those are the Zermelo-Fraenkel axioms for set-theory
(plus the axiom of choice.)

I learned about set-theory when I was 12.
I considered it the 2nd greatest discovery of my life
up 'till then. Because I was certain it gave me the right
vocabulary to express my rage.

You see, I'd heard a reporter on the news referring to
the "American opinion" about something. Which infuriated
me. And I didn't know why. Until I learnt set-theory.

"America" to me was an area on the map. Or else
it was some documents. Or history. Or whatever.

But whatever it was, I was certain it was incapable
of having an opinion about anything.

And set theory gave me the vocabulary to say what
I had to say about that.

"American" --is a 'set'.
(Of some sort. It doesn't matter what sort.)

And, as such, it is incapable of having properties
which are only applicable to its elements.

People in America can have opinions.
America itself can not.

(Because otherwise you'd have the situation of the
set of all sets that are not members of themselves
having to be simultaneously both a member of itself
and not a member of itself. Which I wasn't buying.)

At 12 I was certain that, armed with set-theory,
I could solve all the world's problems, all its conflicts.

All I had to do was clarify everybody's arguments
- with set-theory.
~~~~

Over time however I discovered that people
are not set-theoretic. As a matter of fact they
aren't even axiomatic. They don't seem to be subject
to any finite set of axioms at all.

When I realized that, fully, completely, realized it,
it was the most depressing moment of my life.

Later, I became fascinated by the law.
Because I thought of it as the effort of some people
to apply logic to life, no matter how absurd that was.

(It was about the same time I took an interest in existentialism,
- reading things such as The Myth of Sisyphus.)

I realized that I could never be a lawyer.
Much as I enjoyed clear thinking, and clearly thinking people,
(which I assumed included judges and lawyers) - the realization
that ordinary illogical people have to be involved, --and not just
involved, but affected, --by reasoning which they could not
possibly understand, --made my knees turn to Jell-O.

Nicholas Easter, he's an entertainer. Wants to make everybody happy.
Not a bad way to go through life, making everybody happy.
But in court it's not that simple.
Somebody always loses.

I'd always loose. I always grant every point,
and I always be deducing that there were insufficient
postulates given for a rigorous proof either way.

I also admire firemen. But not so much.
Because I could be one.

I really admire lawyers. Especially defenders.
I admire Ramsay Clark. And Des Doherty,
and Anthony Scrivener.
I know they've got to be tough to do what has to be done.

I have never doubted for a moment the glory of the law.
Life is conflict. The law is the only thing between us
and the abyss. People make jokes about lawyers.
They also make jokes about sex. But no one would
honestly want life on earth without these things.
They are synonymous with survival.

By the way, you are no Rankin Fitch:

(It was your poem that reminded me of the movie.
When the verdict is announced, --110 million against
Vicksburg Firearms, in favor of Celeste Wood,
--who's husband had been killed, --she lets out a
remarkable cry, but very true to life, - of surpise,
and shock, -but also of joy. Was that "appropriate"?
It echoed Rankin Fitch's line: "You just ensure
that his wife goes to the cemetery in a better car.
And that the heel that she snaps on the way to
the graveside belongs to a $1200 shoe."

A thing I realized just a little while ago
was that the last stanza of Chelsea Hotel #2
--the one with "I can't keep track of each fallen robin"
- had only one alternative: To die.)

You're no Rankin Fitch.
(unfortunately for you.
But then you won't have to wind up
the way he did either.)

---Wendall Rohr. An overdue pleasure. Rankin Fitch.
Nice suit. Very, um, "of the people,"
---Yours is nicer. What would you call it? "Gun lobby protecting its own"?
Oh! Swank shoes. Big tobacco?
--Big alligator. Wrestled it myself.
--Excuse me, we're cleaning up in here.
--Am I gonna get beat up now, Mr. Rohr?
--What'd you do to my witness? Threaten his family?
Write him a check? Just curious about what your technique is, Mr. Fitch.
--Maybe he, uh, decided against biting the hand that fed him these past few years.
--You know exactly why he came to us.
--Oh, please. Don't tell me you hung your case on somebody's conscience.
--I hung my case on my own conscience.
--Oh. I get it now.
You are a moral man living in a world of moral relativity.
It's just so quaint, so precious.
-- Hey! Don't do that.
This is about my witness, right? This is about you messing with my client,
my case and the rules of law that govern our country!
-- Our country?
-- Yes!
--I didn't figure you for a patriot, Mr. Rohr, what with your blatant disregard
for the people's right to bear arms. You know, the Second Amendment?
--Is that why you're doing this? To protect the Constitution, is that it?
--Of course not. I'm in it to win. Just like you are.
Because that's what I was hired to do.
-- Uh-huh.
-- Everything else is colored bubbles.
-- Colored bubbles? Colored bubbles?!
A system that calls for 12 people to sit and listen to testimony of witnesses, fella!
And that includes my witness, who you've disappeared!
--If you're relying on testimony to win this case, you've already lost it, fella!
You think this jury cares anything about negligent distribution?
Product liability?
-- You bet your ass they do!
--Oh, most of 'em can't even say the words, let alone understand the meaning.
You think your average juror is King Solomon? No!
He's a roofer with a mortgage. He wants to go home
and sit in his Barcalounger and let the cable TV wash over him.
And this man doesn't give a single, solitary droplet of shit
about truth, justice or your American way.
-- They're people, Fitch.
-- My point, exactly.
--You don't have an idea of what I've been talking about, do you, sir?
--What do you hope to achieve if you win?
--What do you mean?
--You gonna bring Jacob Wood back to life? No.
You just ensure that his wife goes to the cemetery in a better car.
And that the heel that she snaps on the way to the graveside
belongs to a $1200 shoe. You get your name in the paper.
But Jacob Wood and all the other gun violence victims
remain rotting in their crypts.
--You know what, Fitch?
You're gonna lose.
-- I doubt it.
--Well, maybe not this case, maybe not the next, but someday,
you know, someday. I've seen it before with guys like you.
You wanna know why?
-- Why?
--Because you cannot carry that much contempt
without it becoming malignant, until you're gonna be all alone
in a room full of shadows, and all you're gonna have
is the memories of all those people's lives you have destroyed.
--That's a good story, Wendall.
But it's just further proof of why you can't beat me.
Because you may be right...
but the thing of it is, I don't give a shit.
What's more... I never have.
(laughs) That suit.