Best Subpoena Poems


Got Your Goat

Crickety china the Chinese chicken                                                                                                                               Where is the cheese dominoes                                                                                                                                        The plumber Guido Hatzis, sorry for the stereotypes                                                                                                                   but you are on speaker phone                                                                                                                                              Before you send the subpoena                                                                                                                                                            my name is John                                                                                                                                                                                          on the scene at the Telemarketer Crime Scene                                                                                                                                         and I have your CLICK
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Gal Named Katrina

Once was a gal by the name of Katrina
She acted superior like a Russian tsarina
Her nose in the air
Walked with a flare
Till one day she got served with a subpoena

(HUH!)


© Jack Ellison 2015

The Grim Reaper

THE GRIM REAPER
             by
    JOHN M. ARRIBAS 



I’m the grim reaper and I’m here to say
We have an appointment to meet one day
It might be early, could be late in the day
My net is out and you can’t get away					
I’ve set traps to snag you, when you stray	
They’re set to go off at work or at play

When I’m merciful I’ll snatch you asleep
I set a harvesting date, that you must  keep
I open my ledger and scour for names
Accurate bookkeeping, accurate claims
No one is exempted, none will escape me
There’s no subpoena, you can’t cop a plea

I have many assistants I use in my trade
Accidents, homicides, drugs; all are made
Insuring I have a bountiful field to choose
Christians, Catholics, Hindus, Muslims, Jews
And all the others I have failed to mention
Keep their scheduled date, with: no exception

My reach is world wide from pole to pole
My daily catch fills my quota goal
I frequent many places to up my score
Favorite hunting site, a place called war
I have a few places of which I’m not proud
Apocalyptic horsemen, fields often plowed

Can’t elude me, I’m essential to the system
Arrivals need space to balance the fiefdom
As humanity marches to improved techniques
I could become passe in a matter of weeks.
Nonsense,I am inevitable, die has been cast
Live each day fully, cause it may be your last

Everyone dies but not everyone lives


An Unforgettable Crime, Between Sunrise and Sunset

An Unforgettable Crime, Between Sunrise and Sunset 

Mankind shall never forget their choice and misdeed. Yes! He was highly displeased. An incident like none ever before.  A betrayal of love and trust, that caused an eternity of fuss.

It happen in a small garden, a village called Eden, in the state of paradise. Population not many, but the animals were plenty.

A golden law was broken. The guilty parties attempted to flee, and ran through the trees. Not knowing, there was no escape from this place.

The guilty, were called and did not respond. It was as if an evil light came on. One whispered to the other “let’s lay low and maybe He’ll go”. 

 An alert was issued nationwide.  A subpoena was served; the two knew they were jailbirds.


When asked, why were you hiding? The leader spoke and said, “I was influenced by the other party you introduced to me”.  “I was misled. You should have known, it wasn’t a good match. I don’t want to leave this home”.  


The voice said to them, “a forbidden law was broken”.  A one man jury and judge were appointed. The jury deliberated on the spot and justice was hot.
They were told, “Go on your way”.  

The world will never forget this day.  What was perfect became imperfect. Now you know.  “A simple bite of life can forever change you and your wife”.

The sentencing was fair. Both were told to leave. As they departed, I heard one say “Come On Eve”.

Dr. “G”

Pistol Ready 2

Hood fellow, pull her hair like I do the trigger
Plenty of cash, don't care if she's a gold-digger
She broke-up with her ex and got me, lost and found
Get in bed, take out my pistol, let off a round
Shoot her up, shoot her up, bang, bang
Blowing on my mic', the best song she ever sang

Got flavor, cold with all this ice, like a 'Slurpee'

Got something for your chick to drink, she slurps me

Definitely ain't praying, but she gets on her knees

Her head game is fire, nine-hundred-degrees

It's like she's educating me, gives me good brain

While she's down there, I pull her hair, like a horse's mane

She's a vampire, sucking on the neck of my second head

Not the one on my shoulders, but the one used in bed

She told me to eat her out, went down and bit it

She can't stand violence, but loves the way I hit it

Beat the 'Coochie' up, bedroom turned into a boxing arena

Call it domestic violence, no court, no subpoena

Riding me, I'm thinking 'bout gettin' her a saddle

We rocking the boat right now, ain't got a paddle

Making a movie, this the best part, 'bout to climax

She loves when I come over, got everything her man lacks

Premium Member Manchester Suicide Bomber Gets More Attention Than Mahatma Gandhi

One week ago, a suicide bomber, a murderer took many lives at the Manchester Arena 
The police are hunting down his accomplices to subpoena 
It seems that the papers have nothing better to do than to show his face to us every day
Replaying each and every horrific moment to his families and relatives: including his unfallen, his prey
Go on let’s make him famous, some journalists seem to say
These are the images that imprint themselves in the minds of relatives and friends
What kind of a message does this ultimately send?
This story really sucks
News makes big bucks
Who is going undercover to catch these monsters that lurk?
Has the world gone completely berserk?
When it came to the crunch, they caught the evil leaders not so long ago
They knew where and how to overthrow
Those in power know how to catch these wicked murderers if they really want to
Instead, they sit back and hold up their hands up in horror as if to say how can this be true
The reality is who is selling weapons to the enemy
Their identities will surely put them in jeopardy
So until someone commands the word “GO”!
This remains to be one big psycho show!


Premium Member The World Wants An Honest Concession

Move on, my friend
Raise your right hand
To move on, to concede
Wasting your time will lead
To nothing, nichts, niente, nada
Do it for the soul of America.

Stop wasting your energy
Stop the lies and the anomaly
A real man accepts defeat
Hey dude, you got beat
You lost, you’re defeated
Stop being too conceited.

Hit the road Jack. Move on
The world wants a confession
Dude, you’re losing power daily
Like a cheap antiquated battery
Hit the road. Quit being a nag
It’s time to raise the white flag.

Don’t try a stupid coup d’état
Because you’ll fail like a lama
Let America be proud again
This is a new era, a new season
It’s time to quit. Hit the road Jack
Move on. Please don’t comeback.

Subpoena are coming
Convictions are forthcoming
Shame is arguably disgusting
Real people are singing and laughing
This is another day in America
This is shocking blah, blag, blah!

P.S. Political satire.

Copyright © November 2020, Hebert Logerie, All Rights Reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books.

Premium Member They Played On Their Ocarinas

There once was a lass named Georgina
For indecent exposure she got a subpoena
Now that's just not right
She caused great delight
As the men folk played along on their ocarinas


© Jack Ellison 2015

Hurricane Katrina

It was like a
Circus arena
The arrival of
Hurricane Katrina
Coming down on Us
like Ike did Tina
Merely, plaguing Us
with emphysema
Which couldn't be cured
by FEMA
So, what were We to do
with No redeemer
Except to keep dreaming
like SELENA
Leaving Our Loved Ones to
put on the high beamer
When JESUS, Our Souls,
did subpoena

Witchy

Stinking, gassy
Lady of the night
Flinging your hate
Sharing your plight

Succubus of want
Soft and perfumed
Angel from the depths
How close you have loomed

Syrupy kiss
Dripping with pleasure
A pleasant subpoena
To a fertile treasure

Black double helix
Dressed for the ball
Come on, Witchy!
Give me a call!

Yoked and complete
Drowning in my shame
Dark and lonely son
He knows who to blame

Years Ago

Flattered teen man glitterati,
an echelon. Wouldn't you bow?
An axis of glittering damsels.
Pedestal of my clan… the authority!
I clawed the sky; I climbed so fast!

Feasible, get-at-able, so she slides in.
Naive me… the hero of Lassie.
I am suave to the Angel of fantasies.
I murmur, I tremble.

Glimpses of commitments, now a subpoena,
flawed my majesty, winks indignity at me.
Had I known a decemvir earlier?
Get me the clock, let me rewind it.
No Mom! I need rebirth.

Premium Member They Fly Back In March

Seagulls from Ontario, Canada migrate to Brazil and Uruguay
They want to survive the winter, in a warm, comfy way.
European gulls migrate to Africa or the Middle East.
Enjoying litterbug’s garbage, a glorious feast.

Seagulls head home, when they feel spring is on her way.
I passed ten of them flying north, just the other day.
United States gulls who migrated to Argentina,
Fly back there in March, without a subpoena

While Laughing Like Hyena

God in cantina
while laughing like hyena
served a subpoena

You have to laugh at this one.

Jim Horn
© James Horn  Create an image from this poem.

The World's streets are full of beats eats and treats A to C


Let’s go on the mother load road trip across continents skip

Even the hip can’t snip or pip the lip fillip of each sip or dip

A sybaritic not a critic’s tour to explore why more is more

Streets of beats galore & locavore treats an epicurean drip


In the Argentine bravado larder of course the empanada

From their mercado source with fine wine could try harder

Top of the poll Asado's charcoal soul to the song of cicada  


Austrian fold in the past caught for foodies some sort of sport

They’ve fought over which Sacher torte does bewitch hold court

Or flattered the dish that mattered plattered crumbed & battered

Viennese wheeze a subpoena tease for a leaner schnitzel wiener


Lazing ease & grazing please on amazing spice isles in pyjamas

Laid back smiles made crack conch rice & peas in the Bahamas


Don’t give a damn about Claude Van Dam give me real mussels 

Garlic specked not muscle flecked fraud whenever in Brussels

Snaffle waffles abroad should be crisp gooey as Belgians know 

Elite frites oh and their stonker bonkers Wonka flair cocoa show


Brazil’s fill me to the gills thrill is still & always will be Feijoada

Even those in a posh off roader chose this nosh meat's Pagoda 

Top of the steeple of food of the people a homegrown Skoda

Adore for any course a tour de Force encore honed toned Yoda


Canadian hardy foie gras machine a mardi gras that’s Arcadian

In the stirrup chirrup quaffing absurd maple syrup is Palladian

Nerds with their curds scoffing mean poutine almost Circadian 


For rookies ducks pluck shells shuck bones suck cookies for luck

Opiner cuisine not in history stuck a mean memory mystery miner

Hymn of whim cough overcome by swim in broth Szechuan numb

Yummy unctuous darlings scrumptious diddly umptious dim sum
 
Ho hum no scrum finer all day diner always did come from China

Sabine

A subpoena 
I send to you Sabine 
To the Court of Birds 
that see no frowns of malice 
nor recognise the curl of the lip 
The defence that must fall
from your patched Tongue 
skewered and faltering 
will no doubt wilt 
in the Misery of that injustice 
where you glance and 
Judgment be made 

Cursed is your nature
Your drowsy lids poisoning 
the Strangers that grace lowly beings
Your kohl sinks your eyes 
into the putrid swamps 
that belongs your soul 
The oceanic conch rolls 
removed of its Creature
in sandy depths 
An empty vessel
hollow of mind 
wanting of Master 
gasping, grasping for silvery clay 
the Agar.
devoid of Conscience, removed of mine

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