Dying Judge Names 7 Men Involved With JonBenet Ramsey Murder Case

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poetry is a political act because it involves telling the truth."---June Jordan


Circa 2001-2002, two poems were mailed to an attorney in Boulder Colorado. It was self addressed FOR THE CHILDREN. There was no contact information. No name or phone number. It was anonymous.


In the Spirit of Crazy Horse
It's all connected.



In his cocky reverie
The truth the three would carry
To the steps of the authority
to boast of their pernicious spree
But he did not know that I could see
And therefore was not wary

*For hidden in the rectory
Protected by the church decree
He delved in child pornography
While elders professed not to see
His sister told them it could be
He killed the child and honest she
His secret would not bury
*(based on real events-eyewitness collaboration)

*They did not know he'd changed the key
When police would come to query
So they broke and entered quietly
Though he would claim illicitly
And so avoiding calumny
A grand sum he was paid to flee
And so it was, conveniently
Their questions he would parry
* (based on real events-eyewitness collaboration

To solve a tale of misconstrue
Just look into the offman's pew
You'll find their in Ft. Luptons slough
Stray cats aplenty, skinned a few
On prying stoops their hides did strew
And cats blood will scare daughters too
While bushes hid their sins from view
Richard held the cue

The child must die, he did decide
The crime arranged, the ritual plyed
With church at stake and family pride
Three men he chose to end her

Though two decried this church a lie
Their testimony was denied
With ties that run both deep and wide
No one could defend her

Now some have gone and some have stayed
Class defined the roles they played
Someday you'll know the masquerade
Of Zack the great pretender

the
Manchurian Doll


They say
that innocence prevails
and evil
cannot master time
And riches,
fame, and fortune sow
Some evil
seeds which then will grow
To
devour their progenitors.

*Of thirty
duos, some must know
That they
themselves will out their crime
And
have.
*(Ties into other poem)

Within an old man's fleeting leer
The cycle of the dolls came
'round
It poisoned sick the
world's Yule cheer
They use
> their own. In passing down
The
rituals remain unfound.
And
Christmas break gives time to heal
Parties abound, all wounds congeal
But one.

At blithely festive New Year's bash
Some candidates en route stopped
there
As if by feigning toasts and
cheer
They could do undo the fatal
sash
The week before.

But handlers die. And what to do?
With Christmas nigh, the one in
lieu
Did err.


*Saint John
would roll o'er in his grave
To
know the smut that crossed his nave
Yet Christmas day he held her near
As if he knew she'd disappear
That very night.
*(Ties into other poem)

And elder
cleric's errant son
His extant
crush now on the run
Did they
supply the candidates
With fodder
for their lewd e-fun?
Do tell.

Truth blazes
in but from mcfar
The hunt
team's snare was too adept
With
keen eyes placed to guard the bar
The talk of dolls in silence kept.
They tripped the truth while jurors prepped
Then sacked the hunter as inept. But
hunters now
The hunted are.


Death's
officer perfidy bared
Though taints
of roofs fast disappeared
No
antidote this Snow White spared.
The other signs were clearly there
Yet all were hastily interred
And
silky-dressed and golden-haired
Truth slept.

Of One who died outstretched on
high
Most gentle hands His swaddle
made
And in sepulchral cloth she
laid. Nor twins replayed
'Round
captive limb.

This mortal braid is our demise
When angels perish in its vise
Betrayed by kindred's galling
lies.
As purloined justice turned
blind eyes
A panicked lapse left
unsurmised
Clues carried home,
already prone
Sleep-guised.


However, one
must study greats
Take, for
example, William Yeats
Who spoke
about Byzantium
No governor could
stop the run
Your split in planning
took its toll
Your race spun out of
control
Things fall apart.

The
antichrist lurks in the head
It festers in the carnal eye
Which
takes young victims from their bed
To suffer that and then to die.

Now
vacant, half-glazed tears are shed
From ambidexterous author's stead
One doll, now grown, hides in dread
Another Manchurian candidate
is dead