"sued" poems
Fros-ty the Snowman
had a twin brother named Lou
He got hit by a truck,
and we said "What the ****
and "You should totally sue!"
Before-he could call a lawyer
along came a snow plow
it mixed him up,
with yellow snowman guts
and he got snowman AIDS and gout
The ne-xt day, Lou died
but he left an inheritance check
Frosty sued the man,
and took all he had,
then he cashed in both of the checks
Fros-ty moved up north
Alaska is where he's livin'
where he got buck wild,
and had a child,
that he fathered with Sarah Palin
Fros-ty the Snowman
had a twin brother named Lou
who brought about fame
to the family name
in Time and US Weekly too!!!
Dec 10, 2010
Dec 10, 2010 at 4:52 PM UTC
A lovely Latina caught Don Sterling’s eye
And, for sure, there’s no fool like an old one.
It helped he has Billions, You know I don’t lie-
because you must give sums to get some.
His wife got upset, (you know how they get)
As she saw their cash flow out the door.
“Two cars and a condo! I’ll make him regret
the day he encountered that *****
The wife sued the mistress for her “ill gotten” gains,
half of it hers by the law.
Then they caught Don, on tape,
Spewing sound bites of hate-
Now he can’t run his team anymore.
A little blue pill can do old men ill-
It deceives them to think they’re a Stallion.
The next time you reach for an eighteen year old, Don,
I suggest that you pour a MacCallan.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
.
*asks the one in the $9 Craigslist chair,
legs crossed like a philosopher
mid-way through a YouTube binge
on dark matter
and dopamine fasting.*
He thinks it’s profound.
It’s not.
It’s a shrug in a trench coat.
A crisis dressed up in code.
An old fear wearing digital cologne.
If this is a simulation—
***what the **** are we simulating?***
Heartbreak?
Minimum wage despair?
The number of times I check my phone
hoping it’s her?
Is it
a stress test for gods,
a beta for consciousness,
a joke?
Because if someone coded this—
they should be fired.
Or worshipped.
Or sued.
Where’s the patch notes,
the exit key,
the server room in the sky?
Where’s the moment it glitches
and someone finally says,
“Oops, our bad—
you weren’t meant to feel
all of that.”
You talk about the veil of illusion
but you still cry in parking lots.
You still ghost your therapist.
You still love people
who don’t text back.
You bleed,
you ache,
you spiral—
whether you’re made of atoms
*or ******* pixels.*
Your god wears headphones.
Your sacred text is a Stack Overflow thread.
Your heaven is a loading screen.
Your hell is just
Monday.
You pray in 1080p
to a silent DevOps deity
who hasn’t pushed an update
since the Bronze Age.
This isn’t philosophy.
It’s cosplay for cowards.
It’s a way to sound deep
without touching dirt.
Without risking faith.
Without changing anything.
Because if it’s a sim,
you don’t have to care.
If it’s a sim,
you don’t have to try.
You can just sit there,
scrolling.
Wondering if the fire
is ray-traced.
But here, the only questions that matter:
Does it hurt?
Do you love?
Can you lose?
Because if the answer is yes—
you’re in it.
Whatever it is.
Simulation or not.
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 5:12 AM UTC
I'd last about an hour as a clerk inside a store
invariably I'd shoot my mouth off
about someone's daughter dressing like a *****
or making comments about the dreadful things consumed
which would include a good 99% of the people in the room
I'd eventually end up getting my lights punched out
after ********* someone as a fat *** undiscerning lout
or cracking some aside regarding what comprises that crud
and making faces of revulsion "you'd be better off eating mud"
ewwwww, you really eat that stuff?
this store should be sued for selling such bluff
children with diabetes, a third of adults obese
the courtesy clerk dies a little for lack of surcease
line after line of vapid consumers
mindless knee-jerk impetuosity belay the rumors
what's an adulterant, what's a filler?
propylene glycol alginate, yum yum
sorbitan mono sterate, shut up and eat it, its fun!
I can't even pronounce it, much less do I care
need I be a scientist to enjoyably savor fare
Go ahead and poison yourself
the quirky clerk exclaimed
its ever so clear you're stupid and lame
stay mired in your pig-headed muck of ignorance
you're exactly what they want
another brain dead consumer
a regular culinary savant
stuff your face with no remorse nor heed
no worries, the clerk of little courtesy knows your need
he'll limply wheel out your cart of miserable choices for you
and wise-crack some snarky rejoinder
then promptly get beaten, black and blue
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 8:09 PM UTC
As I rounded the hill
Face to face with the still
That I'd only heard rumors spoke of
With no one around
I sat myself down
And proceeded to sample the stuff
As sweet as honeydew melon
Got my feet to a geling
Made me feel like I did in my youth
Sat with a dumb gaze for a while
Then got the biggest of smiles
When it came to me what I should do
So I went with my plan
And opened a stand
Right there on the mountain side
When word in the forest got out
I never had any doubt
That all of the critters would be stoping by
You should have seen them all guzzle
As the squirrels ordered doubles
Then proceeded to tell wild nutty lies
It was quite the fiasco
When they brought out the cowboy hats and lasso's
As the party went well into the night
They paid in nuts and berries
Which was fine by me
With them I made different flavors of shine
In flavors I made 32
So I wouldn't get sued
By Baskin-Robbins who has 31 at this time
From all the flavors I made
Boysenberry was the fav
The raccoons made up a dance called the boysenberry crawl
Which was a big hit
At the discotheque
The beavers built in the early fall
We made a deal
I would sell them my swill
For a little piece of the pie
We were all getting rich
I have to admit
It's quite the relationship, the beavers and I
Of course the beavers got greedy
You know how beavers are needy
Couldn't leave well enough alone
Figured they had the right
Who's going to pay for these lights
That make this the best disco in town
They started charging a cover
Which didn't go over
As well as they would have liked
Plus they doubled the price of the *****
Which left little food
On the woodland creatures tables at night
Things went from bad to worse
When they started to curse
Me, "The Man" for the troubles they had
I barely made it out alive
By the skin of my hide
When I packed and hit the road mighty fast
Things had been going so well
Before it all went to hell
And me and my still were forced to leave
Now still to this day
You know why I always say
That famous line, passed down in time
"Leave it to Beav"
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 10:51 AM UTC
To sit on rocks, to muse o’er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest’s shady scene,
Where things that own not man’s dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne’er or rarely been;
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;
Alone o’er steeps and foaming falls to lean;
This is not solitude, ’tis but to hold
Converse with Nature’s charms, and view her stores unrolled.
But midst the crowd, the hurry, the shock of men,
To hear, to see, to feel and to possess,
And roam alone, the world’s tired denizen,
With none who bless us, none whom we can bless;
Minions of splendour shrinking from distress!
None that, with kindred consciousness endued,
If we were not, would seem to smile the less
Of all the flattered, followed, sought and sued;
This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!
2.6k
Down in the ghetto, real
****** stand together
Me and my 2nd in charge had an
alibi that breezed us on through
Sued the NY Times and their racist news
for they had no clue about us
The judge winked us both off and
later was paid what he was due
Corrupt, corrupt judiciary
The reasons for this are mostly monetary
No questions ... it’s just customary
While the Judges, Lawyers, Popo’s, too
Lookin’ for a way to make a few extra dimes
They were askin’ ‘bout, tryin’ to cash in, all da time
What judge or man wouldn’t agree ‘bout raisin’
a little bread on da side
No questions ... it’s just customary
I then asked a judge, why doesn’t the NY Times
take a bribe, so they don’t need to report all da crimes
I listened with intrigue and right away I saw the signs
Then my eyes closed tighter, as I hear what he describes
Judiciary started callin’ and Popo’s started fallin’
Shhhush . . . it’s just customary
While the Judges, Lawyers, Popo’s, too
Lookin’ for a way to make a few extra dimes
They were askin’ ‘bout tryin’ to cash in, all da time
What judge or man wouldn’t agree ‘bout raisin’
a little bread on da side
No questions ... it’s just customary
Well the New York Times is owned by the Irish
and not by a wealthy enclave of Jews
I think I just made my very last mistake
He fired a pistol from under his robe
and shot me to da ground
And I heard him sayin’ “Never **** with da men in da gown”
Corrupt, corrupt judiciary
The reasons for this are mostly monetary
I’d asked to many questions ... it’s just customary
While the Judges, Lawyers, Popo’s, too
Lookin’ for a way to make a few extra dimes
They were askin’ ‘bout tryin’ to cash in, all da time
What judge or man wouldn’t agree ‘bout raisin’
a little bread on da side
No questions ... it’s just customary.
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 7:11 AM UTC
Hush all you voters, don’t say a word
Or you’ll be sued by a great big ****
He’s loud, obnoxious and has orange hair.
You can hear him lying almost everywhere.
He thinks he’s rich and a moral man
But actually he’s just like the Ku Klux ****
He has an endless supply of brainless rants
Aimed at non-whites and the immigrants.
He thinks it is time we let morality pass
And started kicking some immigrant ***
And if that immigrant’s mouth grows fat
Trumpy gonna hit him with a baseball bat.
And if that immigrant acts sad..
Trumpy gonna treat them like Islamabad.
If Mexico gets ****** at all.
Trumpy gonna build up a great big wall.
And if the taxpayers say ‘No!’
Trumpy says he’ll bill it to Mexico.
Trumpy says he can shoot people too
And anything else he wants to do.
Trumpy is counting on the Democrats
To stay home election day and sit on their pratts.
If the voters in this country don’t soon wise up.
There won’t be any peace until Niagara dries up.
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 10:51 PM UTC
The smoker
I bought some rare cigars;
had them insured against fire
And by three months later
I’d lost them all
in a series of small fires
But the ****** insurance company
wouldn’t pay
so I sued them
The judge
I’ve looked at all the evidence
and I accept the cigars had been
indeed destroyed
by a “series of small fires”
and so I order
the company to pay the insured
the sum of $15 000
The insurance company
We paid - we didn’t
want a prolonged legal case;
but now we are taking the client
to court
as it’s clear through
the very evidence he submitted
he caused the “series of small fires”
The judge
I find the insurance
company’s former client
guilty of arson;
and furthermore I order that
the man serve prison
a year each for each count
and so, to make it clear,
to see past all the smoke:
that’s 24 years in jail for arson
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
Don't get chippy lippy,
where's the ****** spinach Jeff!,
I didn't think you was a two-bit cook,
I thought you were a chef!,
so wheres the ****** spinach Jeff!,
Where's the bleeding turbot, Herbert?,
and where's the feeking risotto,
if I don't get some ****** food soon,
I'll drink a bottle of wine and get blot-toad
Where's the ****** crab, Brad?,
blimey! does it smell high to you!?,
You'll ****** **** someone,
and bleeding get me sued!
By Christos Andreas Kourtis and Larna Kira Kourtis
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
Soothing that we aren't at war
Soothing that the thunderous skies
Show bright quiescent lightening flash
In battle field where no man dies.
Soothing that we sued for peace
Soothing that the tempers calmed
In altercations' quarrel lake
Where differences are drowned or charmed.
Soothing that your grey eyes sleep
Soothing that I walk away,
Walked to seek another life
Where conflicts' brat is held at bay.
Soothing now the day is still
Soothing that the air is calm,
Tho now I long for happenstance
In cut and ****** of battles' harm.
Marshalg
Becalmed.
4 November 2012
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 6:58 PM UTC
I didn't get much schooling so I can't read or write.
Many people don't understand my situation and plight.
I thought I was buying sugar but I bought salt.
My cake made people puke and it was my fault.
When I drive, I can't read stop signs so I always crash.
Over thirty people have sued because of whiplash.
When I was seven, Dad wouldn't let me go to school anymore.
When a person can't read or write, it closes so many doors.
I can count to ten but I have to use my fingers and thumbs.
And if you actually believe I can't read or write after reading this poem, you are dumb.
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 12:46 PM UTC
-on a Miami academic being sued
for fetish ****** harassment
Quitchie of Reid,
you and your electric feet -
you make my safety fuses blow
when I see the tapping of your toe,
slowly touching a tile beneath.
Have mercy on a man in chains,
whose decency goes down the drains
once tortured by the endlessly enthralling sight
of your hot, sweet, cruel might
that boils the blood inside his veins.
Ah... Quitchie of Lewd,
you're so electro-cute.
One day my arm will stretch,
your soles, your toes, your nails I'll catch
and down I'll go in flames -
happy, void and mute.
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 5:04 PM UTC
Karen Carpenter, bridged sued cap d'hiver,
(which I hear will be very en vogue this summer)
fringe falling, as gracefully as music flowing through her veins,
(a Pucci jumpsuit, a throwback to times, of rock and roll)
Pinned hair, taped face to secure a wig cap,
(a daily communion bonding her soul to her self)
those Miu Mui boots, leather wrapped sewn to her body
(to which is laying amid candle light gypsy retreat)
A left thigh, glance of the subtly disguised tattoos inscribing her body,
(do we mark our body, to impress others or to claim our own bodies)
silk Chloé gown, gypsy princess of Parisian quarters,
(Jakarta may someday be a resting place for an unsettled soul)
Placing pencil to paper, poetry writes me as lyrics write her,
(do the ivory keys of the Grand Piano fuse inspiration)
piercing red nails, grasping left handed she writes writes writes,
(maybe notes of her future travels dreams aspirations)
A 70's heroine, born to the wrong era standing in the past,
(Yoko Ono Led Zep Stevie Nicks, mahatma's of a lost scene)
innocence purity porcelain ******* torn from a womb too soon,
(not at once a smile, reflective nostalgia unwavering past future)
A fallen tear drop, a hopelessness of peace in her eyes,
(one can see both tattoos of present; ARTPOP, of past; peace symbol)
a fallen angel, legacy leaving her mark on a generation of those lost,
Her left wrist shows a peace sign as a commitment to such peace
Will this ever be a possibility on a planet we call earth?
© Sia Jane
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 12:48 PM UTC
i know a place where there is no independence,
Opinions are controlled,well as your "character reference".
It is the place where structures are aero dynamic,
Members Believing that it would fly at the time of panic
The Social-Controller, political-hemophilia,
Millions have joined, expanding the mafia.
Polluted the minds of pioneers, --the low iQ'D,
Wise Child inherit your thy truth have been sued
The thoughts of your childhood was buried deep,
Teachings of the interracial grows in this creed.
It was emphasized, first time in my life,
Discrimination was a wound stabbed by a Knife.
I dont' believe, i can boldly state --
Man-made Cult hurted, roam from day to date.
Creed merged State, Politics, and inner feelings,
Was trespassed, influenced with imposed billings.
How come, you tell me that you can't --
Soul search, and start what you want.
It cuts my skin, when worse comes worst,
I'll go for the love, not with the CURSE!
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 5:58 AM UTC
497
He strained my faith—
Did he find it supple?
Shook my strong trust—
Did it then—yield?
Hurled my belief—
But—did he shatter—it?
Racked—with suspense—
Not a nerve failed!
Wrung me—with Anguish—
But I never doubted him—
‘Tho’ for what wrong
He did never say—
Stabbed—while I sued
His sweet forgiveness—
Jesus—it’s your little “John”!
Don’t you know—me?
1.7k
My fourteen year old daughter was the star of a children's TV show.
But because she grew large ******* they decided to let her go.
They said that because of her growth spurt, it would be inappropriate for her to be on a children's show.
They said they were sure that I would understand but I was furious and I said "Hell no".
I said that it was discrimination and it was an immoral reason for firing my teenage daughter.
She was more than willing to sue because of the morals that my wife and I have taught her.
It was wrong to fire her because of mother nature 's handiwork and the judge agreed.
My daughter was awarded ten million dollars, that was what the judge decreed.
We didn't sue because of the money, we sued to stand up to their discrimination.
When I say that they didn't get away with what they did, it's not an exaggeration.
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 4:27 PM UTC
It's happened again
cupid has cycled his laughing cast
Without discretion, displayed in viscous currents
One man finds a mate
through an easy game of chase the scar,
Lazy frowning and statued emotion
Her eyes sparkled in such a kindred flame
Artificially, just as the sad boy does
rebounding desperation on both parts
He as the hermit,with a minimal compassion
She played the role for all affection
Drove her half mad, cutting lonely
A last chance to see him to the dance
pupils strayed off, eating the smoke
For a couple months, I think, maybe more
Distance was death for the loving seperation
Caring is old, the premature pleasure maker
Chakra cats and Vampire disease
Chased with blood, drunk on a rhapsody
The girl dumped the filthy ****** baggage
Humbly fornicating with a more fitting fellow
Similar in grace and taste
Aspirations and dependence on denser levels
Red to black or black and blue
With a new foundation built
Companion demolition, scheduled for certain
Love sued the suit and Brothers close at heart
It's happened again
Cupid has cycled his laughing cast
Without discretion, displayed in viscous currents
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 8:15 AM UTC
I went to the hospital and they said they were going to shove a camera up my ***
I told them that I didn't want that to happen, I told them that I was going to pass.
But they said it was too late because I'd already signed the papers that allowed them to treat me.
But I didn't want a camera up my *** I would've rather that they used baseball bats to beat me.
They shoved the camera up my *** and it went in deep.
It really hurt because the idiots forgot to put me to sleep.
I cussed those ******** out and they said that they didn't like my attitude.
But they disliked it even more when they had to pay me two million bucks after I sued.
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 11:13 AM UTC
A man was invited to his boss's house for dinner.
The dinner was fabulous, made by a private chef
and served by the family butler. It was, all in all,
a wonderful evening.
At the end of the meal, the man saw his host
collecting all the table scraps from the table.
"What are you doing?" asked the man
"Ah, well whatever I don't eat, I give to the butler and the chef."
"They can't buy their own food?"
"Well no, I pay them in scraps"
"That's terrible!"
"Why? I eat my meal, I usually leave enough for them to live off of, unless I forget"
"Unless you forget?"
"Well, yeah...I mean a few glasses of wine and that food is as good as gone"
"You see nothing wrong with this?"
"Hmm...no. Should I?"
"You are feeding your staff table scraps! The amount they're getting is miniscule! It's a miracle they haven't sued you!"
"Aha! I do see your point. It is a rather meager amount. Fortunately, since I'm such a clever fellow...I have a solution"
"You mean to give your staff full meals to eat? Maybe pay them with money instead?"
"Haha, no no my simple man. I'll just have them cook and serve more food!"
"What."
"Well it's rather simple. If the amount of food that is cooked and served is increased, and I eat the same amount, then what's left over will be equivalent of a full meal! Brilliant!"
"Well...yes...but what if you get drunk on wine and eat all of that food"
"I'm sure that I would never do such a thing. Probably"
"Probably"
"Well, one can't always predict these things"
"So instead of giving them a fair meal, you'd rather them put in more effort and time so that they 'might' see an increase in their rations?"
"I know. I should get a Nobel prize for this stuff"
"Or commited"
"What?"
"Um...commended"
"Quite right"
Aug 8, 2012
Aug 8, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
upstairs and downstairs, like a frazzled owl character in my third-grade reader
in the doorway of my 200-level on sub-Sahara where we talk only of Nigeria
holding the elevator for my superior in the lobby of a too-tall edifice to man
a college student.
an ABD.
intern.
backstage at your high school graduation ceremony, your mortarboard won't stay on your head
in a food court where your mother doesn't get it when you say you can't wear pants anymore, or get your bimonthly haircut
when you're skirting the poverty line after your family business was sued but your FAFSA says parent #1 earns six figures
initiate.
neophyte.
not-quite-other.
the female body as a threshold between worlds, channel betwixt boundaries
Schrodinger's cat simultaneously in separation and marginal phases according to van Gennep
divorce papers signed but not sent, enclosed in manila at the bottom of a cherrywood desk
continuum.
spectrum.
a line without points.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
We've got the wedding bin blues,
Reception Centres should have been sued,
Plastic chicken and phony food,
"Why did you marry me?" we rued,
This is the first wives' club,
Half were in the pudding club,
The orange appliances survived,
Half the exes aren't alive!
Reception Centres should have been sued,
We've got the wedding bin blues!!!
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC
California....I love to hate this place,
Gas prices high people getting high on a false sense of reality....lets get it right
Exotic cars and intellectual flaws
Riding down the boulevard
**** can I drive without the admonishment of getting far..?
Dreams of impacting the world one country at a time
Schemes of people full of vanity, fallacies that aren't mine...
Can I dance with the moonlight like King Harvest and not be sued for human rights...?
The waves of excitement once stimulated my thoughts, Filled with nightmares and dreams a southern jezzabelle once taught...
What can you do for me and what I can't do for you; the nightlight just caught...
Yet I remain humble, though I stumble through the golden coast that boast dreams a civil war couldn't fault...
Dreams of californication....with laid back sentiments and pornification...
Can I wake up from this guitar riff of fornication?
Yet I Vibrate....And marinate on this pointification...
Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 11:54 PM UTC