"billed" poems
Trickshotting on Highrise
On the Crane
Billed that ************
in the mane
Go on fazeclan
new recruit
holy **** man
FaZe Fruit
That's me!
How could that come to be
Im in faze now
******* trickshot me now
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 8:20 PM UTC
In as much as I tamed the Infidel
Baptism pokes her Holistic White Tongue
Such that if you try to flip the Role-Model
For which Hypocrisy had said and done
You do not know me. If Duty must care
And stand accused tackling my Man to like
Your Mass does not shrink me; And if you dare
Take a Pied Contest and taste the First Strike
Yet in fairness your Swan-Form does exist
As billed by Tom's Twin circled in craft
Now may I come in? Or should I resist
And Boot my *** on the Beach by the Draft?
Those Stripes were hostile from a Few Years Past
Enjoy Iberia Minor; Healing can last.
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
Who knows, when His Watch will tell you the Truth
And reveal the Sins he refused to Pour
Mostly when the Priest he tries to Conduce
When in Practice their Ripe Karma does Sour
How you Dive and Resist at the same time
Mostly on Cards you purse and refuse Face
Even if they show Numbers worth in-Line,
If not from the Isles are locked in Disgrace
Yet the Wheel-Friend still refuses this Fact
And tries to re-file this False Document
Even at-risk to be billed a Blackheart,
Booting that supposed Good Sentiment.
Daily, no pause, fold my hands for your Health
If you find Creepy, not my loss of Wealth.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 4:01 AM UTC
The swell of your feverish hands over mine.
Sweat soaking into my skin.
I’m clutching every part of you I can grasp,
Every part of you I can fit into my palm.
We’re sitting beneath the hollow tree,
Beneath the ocean of a sky,
Beneath the screaming black-billed cuckoos.
We don't say a word because we don't need to;
Just silent prayers burned between us,
Scarred into pale, malnourished bones.
I look at you as your sloe-eyed gaze
bores into the mountains of clouds swimming above us.
I want to kiss you,
But all I can do is lay my head on your shoulder,
Wishing I could build a home out of your collarbones.
I don't ever feel safe anymore.
Except when I’m forgetting everything, with you.
At dusk,
I tried to unlearn the way the gold in your skin,
Possessed your face in scintillant rays of spots.
I could count each one if I had the time,
But you’re already turning your spine stuffing back away from me,
And skipping back home
Without the bother or concern to look back.
Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 8:58 PM UTC
Red Velvet has been lauded for breaking stereotypes
among popular girl groups in South Korea, whose concepts
tend to fall under two categories: "cute, or "pure" and ****
to fulfill a certain fantasy; in a country where girl groups'
fan bases are typically male, according to Taylor Glasby
of Dazed Digital, the majority of Red Velvet's fans are young
women and commented that "They {Red Velvet & ReVeluv}
are neither **** nor innocent, the band's music videos are often
dark, trippy, sinister, or haunting, even when they're flooded in
pastel colors". In 2017, IZE Magazine named the group
as one of the successful female figures who helped transform
the passive image of South Korean women at a time when
feminism had risen as an issue in the country. The group's music
also sets them apart from other K-pop artists. K-pop idols in general
suffer from a prejudice that they aren't considered real musicians
by music critics. But because of the group's diverse musical
inspirations and styles, these critics have since claimed that Red Velvet
has pushed the boundaries of music in the early 21st century.
In February 2018, Time magazine named Red Velvet
as one of the best K-pop groups ever, highlighting
their versatile musical styles;
Red Velvet was recognized
for their brand recognition and marketing power,
having topped _'Girl Group Brand Power Ranking'_
published by the Korean Corporate Reputation
Research Institute for three consecutive months.
Red Velvet performed in Pyongyang on April, 1 2018.
This made them the fifth idol group to ever perform
in North Korea. They performed "Red Flavor" & "Bad Boy"
at the East Pyongyang Grand Theater to an audience
that included Kim Jong-un. The concert was billed
as "Spring is Coming" and is part of a wider diplomatic
initiative between the ROK & the DPRK
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 6:08 PM UTC
A bird in an aurulent billed mud-face,Living as a four foot two inch dragon in a San Franciscan cave,
Lifts off from a hot breathed murmur of Gideon.
Even in night the whole grandeur of movement
Soaking in red beeping heart-pangs
Fasten to the thrusts of his arms.
This post of vainglory was the opening of the year.
In July's open pores,
On a spatial plateau of Dodonian oak.
The Penguin
Unveils his weakened voice.
Flattening into a wide arrow
Draped from Carina he
Sails Westward. Barefooted through the Anavros
Molting under deep helplessness and melancholia.
With his inlaid eyes faced askance
The penguin broods
Among the day's songs
Cast into the poetry of the lyre,
Stretched upwards from Paradise Bay to Colchis,
Where his ebony wings
Soak into the palms of Peleus
Suffering only where the arrows have flung.
Downside up, with children in a pocket of blood,
Among supergigantic siren songs and muse poems
Sewing teeth into a spot of Earth
Races towards a column of toppling strakes.
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 5:48 AM UTC
Once I met a platypus;
I took her to my heart.
We held hands by the lake at night,
And flew kites in the park.
We drank red wine by moonlight,
And closer, by degrees,
Expressed our deepest feelings;
Explored our fantasies.
And then, as these things happen,
There came a happy day:
We took an ad out in The Times
Announcing progeny.
But outrage at the outcome -
Our beloved platy-pups -
Was front page in the tabloids!
What was the platy-fuss?
We gave the papers interviews,
We gave our truth and trust -
But still my Love was slandered
Just for being oviparous!
We formed an equal rights group.
We founded charities.
To educate, to celebrate
Our ovi-parity!
We swore a solemn, binding oath,
Between the two of us
The Wedding feast and party was
Quite monatrematous!
Uncle Mallangong was tearful;
Aunt Echidna was abeam:
The Boondaburra “Moonwalking”
Was something to be seen!
There were Joeys sloshed on cider,
Wombats smoking ****
Emus snogging at the bar -
Koalas wild on speed!
For sickness, health; for poorer,
Or for great prosperity;
I will love and hold and cherish,
Through all adversity,
My nondarwinian lover;
My mutant, duck-billed Queen!
My unconventional ******
My monotreme – my dream!
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
REPUBLICANS
Former South Carolina GOP leader
kills dog to please God
Rob Beschizza
GERMANY
Germany's top domestic spy advised far right xenophobic political party on how to avoid being billed as "extremists"
Cory Doctorow
RUSSIA
Guy who pretends to ****** people for a living named Russian Goodwill ambassador
Seamus Bellamy
BUSINESS
We're going to be eating bugs really soon now, again
Cory Doctorow
POLICE
Surveillance camera shows off-duty NYPD cop dropping a weapon near man he shot in the face
Rob Beschizza
SCHOLARSHIP
When should the press pay attention to trolls, lies and disinformation?
Cory Doctoro
CORRUPTION
Wells Fargo: we stole houses and we're being investigated for ***** low-income housing credits
Cory Doctorow
LATE STAGE CAPITALISM
How Jpay gouges prisoners' families for "digital postage stamps"
Cory Doctorow
ALEX JONES
Alex Jones is suing the parents of a Sandy Hook victim for $100,000
Gina Loukareas
***
:(
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
Why doesn't the moon cry tears like I do?
Maybe that's what rain is.
I need a cigarette.
No you don't.
You don't need a ******* cigarette.
I want to sit on the roof.
It's so cold out though.
I'm so tired, I just want to sleep.
I have to be up in 4 hours.
Maybe I'll make breakfast.
I don't like the color yellow.
But I do like the color of the sun.
I wish my mom told me she was proud of me when she was sober.
I think that dragons existed at one point.
You can tell me you don't believe In magic, but if you look at the person you love and smile, I'll know you're lying.
I hate it when people are better than me.
I need to sleep.
I want to record my dreams.
I want to forget my nightmares.
I want to **** the boy with the blue billed nike hat.
I love it when frogs croak.
I have to get up on 4 hours.
Breaking Bad is pretty good.
Walking Dead is better.
PLL is my favorite show though.
I should watch the titanic.
My dad would yell at me.
I need to be famous.
I'm so tired.
I just want to sleep.
Today will be a good day.
Today will be terrible.
Maybe I should shower.
I think I might pass out.
Why does everybody always fight?
I can't tell if blue is my favorite color,
Or red.
I want to travel.
Oh my gosh.. Paris.
My eyelashes aren't even long.
I'm so tired.
I need to sleep.
I'm so glad to be alive today.
I'm so tired.
I want to die.
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 6:11 PM UTC
"They're selling postcards of the hanging" Bob Dylan
Frolicking in the Hague festooned
as if some monarch's golden jubilee
not a room left empty in all the land
queues for miles to get a ringside seat
at what is billed as The Trial of Man
as W, **** and Rummy sit chained
to the bionic calves of barstools while
Condo Lisa bears witness atop a piano
ferreted throughout the conurbation
breadlines and circuitous routes
recalling the Nicaraguan case
low on the radar of short-term
the disunited states of disarray
vetoes its own trial's outcome
and it is business as usual
Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 11:42 PM UTC
(In memory of Norris Hickey 1935-2014)
Love of family and fly-fishing: twin tributaries flowed
into your heart like a braided river.
Paradoxically, a sociable man who preferred to be alone
on some braided river,
basking in the peace of the wilderness,
hearing only birdsong and the gentle whirr of the fly line,
its nylon whipping to where you hoped the fish would rise.
Patience comes easily in peaceful surroundings,
unlike waiting for the blessing of grandchildren.
Eventually rewarded with five blessings.
You always said what a lucky man you were.
I’m glad your luck held because you would weep to see
your precious braided rivers drying up down here,
****** dry by the farmers’ greed for white gold
and the threatened tarāpunga (Black-billed gulls)
getting their nests crushed by callous four-wheel drives.
It would be enough to make your big, generous heart burst.
© Andrew M. Bell
May 15, 2022
May 15, 2022 at 12:41 AM UTC
The heron-billed pale cattle-birds
That feed on some foul parasite
Of the Moroccan flocks and herds
Cross the narrow Straits to light
In the rich midnight of the garden trees
Till the dawn break upon those mingled seas.
Often at evening when a boy
Would I carry to a friend--
Hoping more substantial joy
Did an older mind commend--
Not such as are in Newton's metaphor,
But actual shells of Rosses' level shore.
Greater glory in the Sun,
An evening chill upon the air,
Bid imagination run
Much on the Great Questioner;
What He can question, what if questioned I
Can with a fitting confidence reply.
1.4k
This is a call to Arms
The time for action is now.
Our government is preparing for War
They're building walls and cutting ties
to conquer us they must divide
us from ourselves and from our world
This is a call to Arms
The time for Action is now
The board is set, and we, the Pawns, are all in our place, facing an enemy we are told to defeat,
though they appear to be identical to you and me.
This is a Call to Arms
The time for action is now
We must revolt
Lest we be sacrificed to Kings
To Queens, to Bishops
To the knights of the realm and the castles they call home.
This is a call to Arms
The time for action is now
We must band together to be heard
We will not be cannon fodder
For the frontlines of a culture War
This is a Call to Arms
The time for action is now.
Defeat looms ever closer
The Reckoning draws nigh
Will you stand and deliver
Or will you bow down and submit?
Will you face the coming adversity,
or brave the consequences
should you turn your back to it?
This is a call to arms
They've taken land and sea and air,
Poisoned them to **** us,
and then billed us for the repair.
The enemy surrounds us,
Threatening life and limb and freedom.
Demanding fealty and obedience.
Demanding tribute for the war chest,
And soldiers for the ranks,
Demanding that we pay the cost while they set price.
They want us broken, not just beaten
Only unconditional surrender will suffice
This is a call to Arms
The time for action is now
To chant the castles down
To fortify the streets
Against the tyranny and the hate,
Against powers of subjugation,
Against the evils of the world
now
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
Into the cinema complex they crowded
excited at seeing the horror movie.
One couple had a foreboding sensation
entering through the glass doors!
Eager to enjoy the brand new complex
their situation was vex!
They had not been in here ever before
never encountering this oppression.
Quickly that packed area soon thinned out
as the ticket staff let them in.
Each screen room was rapidly filled
a new concept in horror was billed!
Noises like chains rattling behind
certain they had seen monsters!
Trying to laugh it off as only imagination
making their way to a screening.
But to afraid to enter even open the door
something creaked on the floor!
Retreating back to where they had come
not a soul was in the entrance!
Rapid movements seem to be in the shadows
as a creatures lunged at them!
Terrible screams which way to run
not their idea of fun.
A sudden crescendo of noise and blind panic.
as ****** people came into sight!
Flesh torn bodies they were being pursued
by werewolves with a hunger!
Three D images coming from every angle.
hundreds in a nightmare tangle!
The friends nearly trampled into the carpet
as zombies ravaged nearby.
Fearing for their lives trapped in the mayhem
heading for the exit.
From video game machines soldiers appeared
the whole situation was wierd!
They went after all the surrounding creatures
smashed the glass and let them out1
As all the chaos spilled onto the forecourt
there was a blue haze and silence.
The friends were standing in the cinema carpark
one had a premonition so stark!
Looking at the poster of the horror movie
they thought it best not to go in!
The Foureyed Poet.
Jul 10, 2011
Jul 10, 2011 at 3:00 AM UTC
.
Ivory
Billed Wood
pecker Amur
Leopard Javan
R h i n o cer o s
Northern Sport
Lemur N o r t h
ern Right Whal
e The S a o l a-
Asian Unicorn
L e a t h erback
S e a T u r t l e
Siberia T i g e r Chinese G i a n t
S a l a m a n d e r
T h e L I t t l e D o d o B i r d
A m e r i c a n D I c k
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 2:54 PM UTC
How could it be
that it's just me
wondering when we
will laugh again with glee.
What scared ghost do we flee
into Summer's buzzing bee
passed a late Falling tree?
I grant that he
has a good degree
and a family pedigree,
but aren't we all free?
I feel tainted with frosty
touches of Northern fee,
invoices billed from a Cree
living in tent or tipi
while burning my effigy.
Down on one knee
at a Maypole jubilee,
drunk and happy,
tragically at the end greedily
eating too much Sandra Lee,
that's me!
Half squinting a dopie
smile and slanting queer
boats with rhyming keel,
I barter with a misty sea,
wanting badly to ***
but instead shade my eyes to see.
Discarded to dry.
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
Sitting within your golden throne
All the riches you hold
Do they make you whole?
While the rest of us lay prone?
Wars and famine plague this land
While you complain of food too bland
People are shot and killed
While you brag of all those you billed
Do you have no honor?
Do your actions cause you no horror?
How do you sleep at night,
Surrounded by futures far less bright?
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 11:42 AM UTC
i used hold onto sadness like it was what kept me afloat,
not what was drowning me in the first place.
i thought my pain was poetic,
that my self-hatred was what made me lovable.
i’m not like that anymore.
now, i don’t think about myself like a problem that needs solved
or like something that needs to be glued back together.
i treat myself like something precious, not something damaged.
because i fought a war with myself,
and i deserve to enjoy the spoils.
but not everyone knows that,
because my voice is still quiet and my eyes still look sad.
i know what you think you see when you look at me,
but i promise i'm not what you're looking for.
you want a girl who looks at you like you’re the sun
when she hasn’t seen the sky for weeks,
but looks at her reflection like her body is a photo album
billed with pictures that hurt to look at.
who never has a kind word to spare for herself,
but somehow always has enough for you.
who will hold her body out to you like a white flag.
that won't ever be me.
i’m not as sweet as you want me to be
and i’m meaner than you think.
and i might not tell you to **** off,
but i sure as hell won’t **** you.
you want my thighs wrapped around you,
but you don't know the work it took for me to love them
so why should i let you?
i’ve spent most of my life starving myself of self-worth,
so now i eat vanity for breakfast.
i've spent too long thinking you needed to be broken to be loved,
but i now i know that that isn't true.
you want someone you can rescue,
but i can do that myself.
so don’t think my doe eyes mean that i’m just a fawn who need your shelter,
because you might be a maple tree,
but i’m the whole **** forest.
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC
I know two older men that I used to care about, that go to the ER about 100 times each per year. Costing 100's of thousands of dollars to medicaid and medicare. As far as I know they never really paid taxes, which really doesn't matter to me. They go to the ER, only to be sent home, as their insurance is billed. One of the men, went to a local doctor 4 times in past two months...the 4th time they said they found a spot on his lungs, and he needed to come back and have it checked. He went yesterday to have it checked, and I am sure they will find it has gotten worse. Anyhow, he was at the ER twice today with breathing problems and high blood pressure. I had told him two years ago that if he keeps going to the doctor, they will find something. What we choose to think about always becomes more intense. If it is disease we think of, we get disease. He is all to pieces and I can't say I care, since this man watched me stop taking heart meds that they claimed kept me alive, and that was two years ago. He uses the local Catholic charity constantly to get free food, and then ends up at a Catholic hospital, sick. We manufacture sickness and wellness within ourselves. No faith needed...just belief. Our biology is what we believe it is. We are the only animal who can supposedly die of millions of different diseases. Think.
Jul 27, 2022
Jul 27, 2022 at 12:11 AM UTC
She’s a dimple and a drag, corner of Worth and Magpie, French Vogue idioms and her mother’s red flowery hoop earrings. Aloha! Aloha! Oopty-oops in contract loot thru streets and backyard parties, concrete larders, her eyes lie like presidential promises, a slipknot of licorice around her neckline to keep her rising tide from the Menarche Moon.
Anything to keep the little penny featherweight dancer from slipping. Her siblings poke fun at her funny way of speaking, her bath tub is just an excuse for chiseling at her innards, taking a drag at her lungs and punching her duck-billed platypus in the kidneys; a heavy-weight champion of the worm.
That until all the saints come writhing off the fishing lines. Until the ballerina’s edema coexists with Tokyo extremists, serial killer behemoths that keep body parts and *** toys in the freezer. Here, here! Wrath goes to the fella with the wicked demeanor. In an area of limited sight, this country, it’s people are sickened at the sights of themselves, and the wackos are coming out in large swaths, minerals and dimples strapped to their waist belts in the throes of a menopausal demagogue heaving OxyContin down El Camino Real.
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 4:34 PM UTC
this was going to be a poem of epic proportions.
but not even poetry stands up to you and i anymore.
and every year it gets harder to explain this to you.
because i love you for everything you are, have been,
will be, cannot be, refuse to be, and try to be.
and that's really all there is to it.
we're still tragic and all wrong and we feel it, sometimes.
but i hope that no matter where you go next year,
i am with you somehow, even if you just remember me.
because whatever we are is not meant to die, fizzle, or explode.
it is meant to reassure and to be patient and to hold hands.
and that's really all there is to it.
there will always be somewhere that you can call collect.
i solemnly swear to accept any and all charges billed to me.
i would follow you until the ends of the earth, but only for us.
not for me or for you or poetry's sake, only if we needed it.
this is my "i'll see you soon," when you go away from me.
i will never be farther than you would like me to be.
May 5, 2013
May 5, 2013 at 7:06 PM UTC
BG: On High, ***** ranting about a new alphabet!
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2140791/a-poet-wondered/
YOU wrote, ***** read...
down looking to make some trouble,
what he likes to do on weekends,
heard about your poem,
trying to create a new alphabet,
and got mightily ******
(at you)
we have an open IM,
and live crosstown
from each other,
and ***** is kinda shy,
(from gender confusion,)
asked me to relay this to you,
Madame BG Star:
you, who writes a new poem
on the hour, got a *** of nerve,
dissatisfied with the limits
of your tools, should not overly complain!
you got gifted, and use up your allotment
of alpha rearrangements and never get billed,
should be more considerate,
and just
write more.
and then he said something else,
because he always gets the last
word...
*you have an affinity for the letter L
it would appear, so here is your punishment,
for the rest of the week
write like a madwoman*
but no words that employ this lala sound!
how do you like that my little lollipop ******
having scored some five and dime bags,
(cannabis legal not, up above)
went home to run the world in his
usual state
of (dis)grace
don't b-ame the messenger,
cause he said over his shoulder as departing
on his fiery chariot,
that applies to you too
u troublemaking
_Eft Foot Poet
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 1:17 PM UTC
Where have you been?
You left the lights on
I searched high and low
For a note saying where you've gone
But your bags were packed
And there were tire tracks
In the driveway
From where you couldn't wait
To get away
Well I came home today
To a house so quiet
I thought I lost my way
Turned around and checked the address
Found myself in quite a mess
When I came home today
To a house so quiet
Some say its my fault
Others still say its yours
I don't know and I don't care
Couldn't we just agree
Home is where the heart is
But your head is resting elsewhere
And soon your heart will follow
Well I came home today
To a house so quiet
I thought I lost my way
Turned around and checked the address
Found myself a ******* mess
When I came home today
To a house so quiet
I packed away memories
And sold all the misfortunes
Put everything else out to the curb
Let someone else try their luck
Im walking away from a life
Built for two but billed for one
Well I came home today
To a house so quiet
I thought I lost my way
Turned around and checked the address
Found myself in some kind of mess
When I came home today
To a house so quiet
Well I came home today
To a house so quiet and empty
I looked around and saw all the memories
Buried like a tomb in every room
Well I came home today
To a house so quiet and empty
I closed the door with a heavy sigh
Locked it and went my own way
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 8:04 PM UTC
A couple on holiday in Las Vegas city
decided to hire car.
And take a trip into the vast desert
objects they hope to see.
Hearing much about the secret base
their journey gathered pace.
Racing away from the city excitedly
without expectation.
But hoping there could be a sighting
for them to remember.
Excited with the anticipation and fun
roof down enjoying the sun.
Near the perimeter of the vast area 51
their car came to a stop.
Thinking the fuel had actually run out
stuck on the hard shoulder.
Sitting taking in the shimmering view
as in the sky a dot of light grew!
Becoming aware of this pulsating object
closing in on their position!
No noise could they hear as it got near
rapidly changing shape.
Then it was hovering above their heads
their nerves torn to shreds!
Now a reddish hue and an elongated form
they felt a searing heat.
It moved hovering above a sandy floor
for what seemed hours.
Afraid to move could only watch in awe
chilled to their bony core!
Within a blink it shot straight up and vanished
at incredible velocity!
Their hired cars engine just started once more
in shock got out of there.
Their desire had unexpectedly been fulfilled
but this show had not been billed!
That day they were not the only witnesses
but no explanation was ever found!
The Foureyed Poet.
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 10:38 AM UTC