"shill" poems
****** f@ggot shill and f@g
oldf@gs newf@gs rolling hard
trips and dubs and even quads
but OP won't deliver
rate us, hate us, sauce pls now
in this thread we save a cat
mods, is this under 18?
the /b/etards at it yet again
but we don't talk about it
cringe us rekt us make us laugh
this thread's preventing suicide
****** racism sexism ****
we mostly rate body parts in /soc/
normies not welcome
****** alpha, femanon
is a girl? **** or ****
welcome to the internets
pics or it didn't happen
gore thread? not enough!
self-hate, ponies, rule 34 fap
the "cesspool of the internet"
is really not that bad
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
Hell is at my door
knocking in some rhetorical rhyme
mimicking the voices
inside my head
*"Get out of my ******* house"*
screams my fathers voice
as his fist hits the yellow walls
of our dainty but quaint kitchen.
"You're just going to end up pregnant"
my mothers shill voice cries out
reminiscing in her past mistakes
blaming me for her horrible life.
"I was just your friend because i felt bad for you"
whined my best friend of ten years
swearing up and down
that I was a jealous, no good, compulsive liar.
"It just wasn't meant to be"
his voice echoed to my soul
breaking me down piece by piece
and walking away forever
My own personal hell
trapping me in the confines of the people I love the most
Haunting me with their displeasure
tormenting me to death
But death sounds like the perfect escape
away from this profane hell
occupying my home, mind, soul, and heart
who's still knocking at my door.
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 10:19 PM UTC
Nocturne,
whence she calls me
Nocturne,
whither I call back
After hours, when all
the lights turn out
but mine
I hear birdsongs
as the sun turns on
the sky
Nocturne
whence she calls me
Nocturne
whither I call back
Nocturne,
whence she calls me
Nocturne
Best never to look back
After lights out, and all
the streetlight seeps
through sidewalks
I see her there
she turns the sun
back on
Nocturne,
whence she calls me
Nocturne
I reply
Nocturne
I turn guiltily
Sometimes dreams remind
Sometimes dreams remind
Some dreams rewind time
Sometimes dreams rewind
Some dreams rewind time
Nocturne,
as she calls me
slowly I reply
Nocturne,
shill she calls me
Guiltfully I close my eyes
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:18 AM UTC
In my younger
and more vulnerable years
I
walked
on
I was lonely
no longer
I was a guide
a pathfinder
I had that familiar
conviction
that life
was beginning over
promising to unfold
that shining secret
that only
Midas
and Morgan
and Maecenas knew,
that the wingless
had been overlooked
in a fashion
that rather
took
your
breath
away.
I was fragilely bound into
a murmured apology
of moths
among
the whispers
and the champagne
and the stars
Bantering inconsequence
that was made of
infinitesimal
hesitation
I repeated blankly
a surprising
shill metallic urgency
Bloomed with light
it sort of crept in on us
that I
had truly
heard nothing at all
In the unquiet darkness
continually smoldering
with disappointment
in the solemn echoing
green light.
a dim hazy cast
lay upon my love
your love
belongs
to me
She insisted
its too late now
he scowled
I could only stare
as
she cried
A terrible
terrible
Mistake!
you ask too much
she told me
I love you now.
you cant repeat the past
he said
why,
of
course
you can!
I paid a
high price
for living too long
with a
single
dream.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
A king will be a king,
His queen must be a shill.
Dare she were to disobey,
Stick her head in a guillotine.
The modern world seems so classical,
An era of error on repeat,
As if a broken record,
So to speak.
Her hair a factory of honey,
Glistening eyes of a little girl,
A figure of motherhood in need of a mother.
Why, she was just a baby,
Right from wrong?
She could not tell,
He wanted her,
He got her,
And they all danced to his tune.
She worshipped her king,
Loving him tenderly as —
The king worshipped himself,
Taking care of business.
An entire world heard him speak,
Yet never saw her.
Enslaved in a kingdom of grace,
While she was up,
He was down.
His majesty ruled rocking,
Molded his maiden,
And left her but to wonder,
Simply of his whereabouts.
The throne,
Lonely without her king.
A flawless woman feared flawed,
Merely a mirror of his honor.
A man of many mistresses,
Ravaged for ************
Who was she?
She could not say,
A lover or a friend?
A mother or a gem?
In time past due,
She could not stay.
The goddess vacated his palace,
Long left to showcase his gold,
But even those walls reek of plastic,
Hindered by a painting left unseen.
They did not know him,
Neither did he,
Only did she,
And she is forced to eat,
At the dime of his memory.
Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 4:41 AM UTC
Considering me a talented, aspiring shill
My muse loaned me a feathery quill
Brokering her wisdom, leasing her skill
With embroidered frills each barb with beauty did distill
Lithographer's vision, a graceful dividend to reveal
Depreciating vane my artistic license to bill
Hollow shaft gilded so her availing light could the vacuum fill
Inky reservoir with inspiration did instill
A deep well with literary devices did rill
Ideas streaming from strained cavity to the mind's tip with zeal
Burnished hues, sharp tones aesthetic notions to congeal
A precision valve appended vagaries to swill
An automated inkblot defibrillating patterns to spill
Sep 15, 2011
Sep 15, 2011 at 11:28 AM UTC
shill, (hill)
pistol, (still)
fuchsia,( a)
cunning
cocoon sucker
moth, a fuchsia
titillating
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
Considering me a talented, aspiring shill
My muse loaned me a feathery quill
Brokering her wisdom, leasing her skill
With embroidered frills each barb with beauty did distill
Lithographer's vision, a graceful dividend to reveal
Depreciating vane my artistic license to bill
Hollow shaft gilded so her availing light can the vacuum fill
Inky reservoir with inspiration did instill
A deep well with literary devices did rill
Ideas streaming from strained cavity to the mind's tip with zeal
Burnished hues, sharp tones aesthetic notions to congeal
A precision valve appended vagaries to swill
An automated inkblot defibrillating patterns to spill
Aug 9, 2011
Aug 9, 2011 at 5:20 PM UTC
**** stained drainpipe
raining pain
unexplained sameness
expressed
in veiny legs
egg salad crustacean
situationally challenged
prophetic procreator
bending spoons
and your will
shill trolls on and on
seeking weakness
tweeking while twerking
discolored molars twinkle
baboons ***
shiner dines on refined lime
mining dimes
unwound ground cover
lamenting
lack of green
queen like boy toy bounds across the turnpike
exhilarated and misinformed
dorm room ****
forlorn
sounding horn born of jazzy lips
quips to the mainstream
hipsterism is like a disease
complete with rashes and bumpy outbreaks
15 century rake awaits her date
and is placed on the stake
for a belief in an alternative
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
To be sung to ***** Laundry"
by Don Henley
We have a little story
That we could tell
We have a little poison
In our inkwell
Let's be a gossip
Let's be a shill
Give us the 'ol Pulp Bitchin'.
We peep through the windows
And listen at doors
We buy the "Enquirer"
And "The Star" at the stores
"She ***** herself"
And "She's a *****
***** little minds galore!
Give us the 'ol Pulp Bitchin'.
Have a li'l "lady"
Who's fast and free
I've heard she's been a prossy
That she's easy
Nothin' nice to say?
Come sit by me!
Give us the ol Pulp Bitchin'
Could have been emeritus
Could have been a great
But I pound out nothing
But dreck and spate
So what if it's full of hate?
You don't really want to know
If it's real or true.
It's not what they SAY
it's what you they DOO DOO
DON'T YOU WORRY WHAT
I THINK OF YOU
(THAT YOU ALL POO POO 💩)
Give us the old Pulp Bitchin'
Kick 'em while they're up
Kick 'em while they're down
(1, 000, 000, 000 000, 000 X)
🎯 Write of Passage
***** Laundry"
I make my living off the evening news
Just give me something
Something I can use
People love it when you lose
They love ***** laundry
Well, I coulda been an actor
But I wound up here
I just have to look good
I don't have to be clear
Come and whisper in my ear
Give us ***** laundry
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em all around
We got the bubble headed
Bleached blonde
Comes on at five
She can tell you 'bout the plane crash
With a gleam in her eye
It's interesting when people die
Give us ***** laundry
Can we film the operation
Is the head dead yet
You know the boys in the newsroom
Got a running bet
Get the widow on the set
We need ***** laundry
You don't really need to find out
What's going on
You don't really want to know
Just how far it's gone
Just leave well enough alone
Eat your ***** laundry
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're stiff
Kick 'em all around
(Kick 'em when they're up)
(Kick 'em when they're down)
(Kick 'em when they're up)
(Kick 'em when they're down)
(Kick 'em when they're up)
(Kick 'em when they're down)
(Kick 'em when they're stiff)
(Kick 'em all around)
***** little secrets
***** little lies
We got our ***** little fingers
In everybody's pie
We love to cut you down to size
We love ***** laundry
We can do the innuendo
We can dance and sing
When it's said and done
We haven't told you a thing
We all know that crap is king
Give us ***** laundry
Don Henley
If the shoe fits...
SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage
2022
Nov 22, 2023
Nov 22, 2023 at 10:24 AM UTC
Well Trump thinks he's found an ally
And he's ah shill, to Trump ah thrill
He's as broken as Texas asphalt
With Paxton came his crooked game
So leave Wisconsin alone
Leave Wisconsin alone
It’s not for you to plead
Elections been decreed
You shouldn't be here, your case is *****
Your words unspool, brakes all the rules
He just lies so to gain his entry
Into Trump's world, his case unfurled
So leave Wisconsin alone
Leave Wisconsin alone
Its not like you don't see
An election as clean can be
Some Supreme Court day the hands of time
Will have their way
You’ll understand why what you do is not okay
Trump's a loser, he’s not the winner
He still finds hoods to do no good
He only wants to get praise and money
Cadillacs and rust, diamonds and dust
So leave Wisconsin alone
Leave Wisconsin alone
It's not like you don't see
An election as clean can be
Yeah, leave us Sconnies alone
Leave us Sconnies alone
He’s not like you and me
He needs to let us be
Dec 9, 2020
Dec 9, 2020 at 10:34 PM UTC
A night at the Museum,
and we're dressed to ****
The mood is gleeful–
and the people, chill.
All court the kings and queens of shill.
Our ****** deeds are whitewashed clean.
Our grievous crimes are left unseen–
sanitized versions on the tv screen.
But our steps were tracked with care
by one who could no longer bear
the growing horror, the scenes from there.
The cry of anguish, the dead-eyed stare.
Now the blood drips on our shoes.
Our deaths headline the evening news.
Yet still, the truth has only views
on internet sites with volunteer crews.
When there is no other way
Desperation will have its day
May 22, 2025
May 22, 2025 at 11:36 PM UTC
Sun and moon
Flower and bloom
This is a cartoon
But also in tune
With reality
The stream flowing freely
Merrily, dreamily
The me flowing me-ly
Mealy
Milly
We are Grist for the Mill
That’s the gist, I’m just a shill
In the mist, I don’t shoot to ****
I aim my arrow with love
To heal, I wield this skill
And I point my pistol high into the sky
I will throw away my shot
Again and again
So that others know where to aim
I am but a photon blasting into and out of the sun
I am all and I am one
Just begun, yet fully spun
Not just having fun, I am become
Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 6:10 PM UTC
Everyday I wake up
I glance at the sky
To get a natural high
From spiritual sighs
Ha got me head now
Filled with sun energy
Felt like I was
Listen to a clergy
Man can you innerstand
My wisdom that
Sits in my hand
Palms never wet
An ultimate threat
To higher grounds
That's why I chill
Deep unda the ground
(underground) sounds is digital
No humpty dumpty
Just keep my techs
On me they wanna push me
Near the wall
But I can't
Since I got *****
Sweat drippin' soakin' draws
Cuz the pressure
Made me an outlaw
Had no choice to but to
Bruise and cruise through
Enemies I
Put a slug and leave em plugged
Electric shock from the glock
I'm aimmin at head
over the hill's forreals
This ain't no shill so just chill
As I **** like bill alley oop
A Dunk so you can feel
Led in yo head now ya dead bleed
Out
So that'll give ya something
To think about
No screams and shouts so
Hold on be strong hold on Be Strong
Hold on be strong Hold on be strong
I ain't gone never led you wrong
So hold on Be Strong
Cuz I ain't gone never led you wrong
So christen that **** yeah
Now that the raindrops stop
But the reign didn't stop
Thought I was dead
But I rise like early sunshine
Roosters cluckin'
Got these demons tryna **** in
Me in my sleep
I shake the shells
Going crazy naw
Its just my mind get lazy
Or they purp that hazed me
Got keep it
True to Screws legacy hive
Bump out the jive
All the way live
In your stereo
Can't break me or make me
Into a mold
Hard to get a hold
Of something you
Can't touch can't clutch
I plot rhymes like
****** from Dutch
Shultz my lyrical occult
Shakin' fools at the wake
Stay baked takin' estates
Keep to body
Frosted as flakes no undertakes
We take
Everything from the hand
Never took a reprimand
Dodge minivans
Stacked with multiple
Ski mask quick to blast
Yo *** in the past
Now you in cask-et
Racked like bread in a bask-et
Led turn em into ac-id
tryna hold on
But ya soul long gone so
Hold on be strong hold on Be Strong
Hold on be strong Hold on be strong
I ain't gone never led you wrong
So hold on Be Strong
Cuz I ain't gone never led you wrong
So christen that **** yeah
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 3:20 PM UTC
in the hour of our frozen gleam
the minute of our fire.
in the year of our immortal toil
the day of our desire.
in the crease of our unyielding
lies surrender to the void.
to the matador, the bull
and from the horn, aplenty -
nothing good.
II
a masterpiece of blink, the love
that seldom loves the monument -
that stands before the world, a surge
of effortless bewonderment.
a shattering renewal
of a timeless thing to ponder with.
that carries every angel
far above the dread of human steps.
a sovereign note to fugue
is Love that covets
what it's never met
and nothing can consume it all
too ill equipped to join
with it.
III
summer past your face
is how the spring resolves
how winter sleeps.
the dead are long, but life
evolves to swell upon the earth's
descent... to buttress the oblivion
that howls amid the heaviness.
the weight of our conniption
fits the coma, mostly
now and then.
IV
pearls are made of glass men
that shill.
and the willing dark
contains it all.
and It
the dream
we fathom with.
and All
the pearl
we can't
recall.
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 8:10 AM UTC
where a dollar separates you from being broke
or rued some fellar' stealin' your broad.
down the blue collar road in the land
of Alabam' ?
ever been a shill for a thief or the cuckolded
ole stooge standin' in the wake of the love
hurricane?
Ever noticed another man's woman?
Or tried to pet his dog when he was gone?
Stole a glance at some beauty,
way outside your reach?
Been immobile no phone or
wherewithal wet breeches and droopy
jowled, alone in Mobile?
But the skies are so blue,
the song said it true.
Down in Alabam'
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 2:16 AM UTC
Helpless, when so many have died.
Can we do nothing but hurt inside?
Those can’t go home, no matter who cried.
Yet we never set those guns aside.
We listened while politicians lied
And even when some of us tried
Too many took up the other side
And insisted they were on the right side
The godly side, the intelligent side.
But they too were wrong or just lied.
And fifty eight, so far, have horribly died.
So, who is in the right here?
We ask year after year.
Why do we sell illogical fear
To allow weapons to be sold here
That are not used to shoot deer
Or game for food, but it is clear
They are for shooting people here
In our own country, not in Tangier
Or Kabul, killing strangers for fear
They’ll take away our freedom here
And very much like some King Lear
Trust all the wrong people. It’s clear.
Every eight years, we go insane
And let America’s worst bane
Take over what still remains
Of a splendid land that retains
The intentions and words of the sane;
The founders of our nation, and again
Give it all away “to elect for change’
Without consideration for the pain
That it took; the blood and the pain
To fight those who hate freedom’s name
And then to elect them back in again.
They are only too glad if we ****
And maim and destroy at will
As long as it's the poor we ****
And not their beloved on their hill.
That is too bitter of a pill
For them to take, so they shill
And subvert and always will.
They’ll approve the crazy skill
It takes to sit up on a hill
And shoot people at will.
They never quite get their fill.
So, when will we people get wisdom
And ban those repeating weapons
Being sold ***** nilly in the kingdom
Of hate, greed without sound reason?
When will we see that we are with them?
Just another human like their women
Brothers, fathers and even their children
That can be erased by their bad decisions
To let more nameless, brainless buy weapons
That have no good solid application
Except a bullet to the brain of our nation.
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 3:18 PM UTC
a shill
dusk sky
lively by
night ere
the dawn
and fraught
a wisp
but mellow
here his
bulge really
bare him
angular stork
with frost
will quickly
freeze his
whir again
Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 6:13 PM UTC
wheel ding utmost pro lix:
scrum compulsions won
despite feeling dog tired, (like a ton
of bricks weighed me down)
while seduced by the sun
solar radiation from the sky didst lightly run
sans, i experienced
a weird wired wider sensation pun
knee sensation otherwise, this sun dry
older puppy nun
the wiser (feeling akin
to an overly sated book worm
to boot) on a Mon
Day, nonetheless, forced
by male incarnation from Lon
don, (via NON FAKE voices
inside my noggin) a potential ***
these tired eyes, could NOT stop reading
even with figurative gun
at my head, until only sluggish progress made,
which daunting task not fun
bore witness thru novel
(in this instance plotting thru - dun
know if fie could finish
One Hundred Years Of Solitude -
by Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
pea pulling his story with bun
dulls of Hiss panic
Alpha Numeric characters, -
per printed page punctuated
concluded with a period,
(premature mental dejected *********** exclaimed
how ah yee got trounced
by harsh obsessive compulsive task master.
"Nay unto you Matthew Scott"!
Uttered by exactly same grievous rot
while er...mailer daemon (as above, ***
tent shill slave driver subsequently not
quite ditto for identical bon mot
mind wielding **** mask kid ding lot
intonation, now setting me hot
to worry about my thinning hair,
the little atop nixed noggin aye got
as expressed vis a vis A previous poem
of mine titled 'Argh! I suffer the plight of Bad
Hair Year In One Day!'
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 7:05 PM UTC
In this City built on bones and dread where the poor are chained and fed on scraps
someone taps upon the door.
'no room in here',
The banker boys with bankers toys play scrabble on the backs of notes where promises are paid in shares and Monopoly squares the game away.
In the central ticket hall, we all stand tall to see the others and what they bought, where they sought to go, how much was laid upon the shill who pockets one half, in the till the rest.
At times, the best is nearly there, but nearly's not quite on the ball and so we cover London like a pall,
a flock of starlings screech,
no change at all in the City built of dead men and so it's off to bed then.
If tomorrow lights my torch, it might not, so in my pockets I have got a tinder box,
the pistol cocked, the sounds of ears within the wall, the City never sleeps, I call,
'Geronimo',
and let go my feeble grasp, let go with one long gasp and then there is,
the City in my soul, in the hole, interim,
the grim reaper another non-sleeper greets me with a smile.
'It's been a while', he says
I gaze longingly at the City
I no longer know.
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 3:15 PM UTC
You look like everything I have ever hated if it had to consist of one being.
Seriously you remind me of the feeling you get after your first punch in the face.
The human version of what drips from the belly of a garbage truck.
I would say you're the **** of society,
But even they don't deserve the insult of being compared to you.
I bet you look in the mirror and tell yourself you're the embodiment of the American dream.
What success looks like. A guide on how to be a model citizen.
Every other normal person that you consider to be damaged goods looks at you like some sort of foreign matter. Clinging to your currency like a deranged woodsman clutching a mattress full of fivers. You think that you look sharp in that crisp new shirt fresh from it's expensive packaging. All I see is a manipulator who wouldn't know an honest days work if it bit him in the *** Keep that painted on smile though, it's the only slightly pleasant thing about you.
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 11:08 PM UTC
And it goes it lil somethin
Like this
Woke up one morning super early
Had a thought that dawn on me
Shinin' brightly
It just might be
Them spirit's entering my mentality
In actuality my locality
Be in a hidden temple
Darkest state of mind
Searchin' deep but all I could find
Is more pain more misery
Everything's a mystery
Don't know who I really am
According to Uncle Sam
I go by numerals in serial
**** this system gots to go
Cuz it's only makin us poor
We say peace but it's subliminal for war see the gore
Pain struck in membranes
These folks going insane
Thinkin voting gonna stop the progression
Agenda propaganda made under the tables labels
Got us in confusion
Now lil boys can be girls
And girls can be lil boys
This ain't no joy no sunshine
Or rain
I just see the tears of nature in the window pane
Trees streakin' bark leakin'
Its a cry of nature can ye hear her weapin'
I haven't seen the Most High this upset since the first cataclysm
This is world is just a prison
And we fightin for freedom
Everyday in a cell
What's the difference between
Reality and a cell well
Ain't much of a distance
We still pay bills all made from Capitol Hill nope I do for the thrills
This ain't No shill so just chill
As I blow a breeze
That make everybody spin
Took a few shots of gin
Let it settle in
Then my mind start to percolate
Spinnin' like helicopter blades
Preachin' raids trying to invoke melees no delays
We takin' over from from Tejas to Guatemala Bay
Say I see angry denizens
Holding artillery and then
Once the bombs burst
I envisioned DC tricks in hearse
None could stop the pain
War scars across ya peen
As the world goes insane
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 11:18 AM UTC
Stream of Consciousness
Walking out of the building
Into the overgrowth littered with debris
A polluted stream flows wildly
And there I just sit and breathe
But the shill voice cuts through me
A serrated blade through bread
And in an instant I’m reminded again
Of all the things just said
Like…
Why are you crazy?
How do you feel?
How can you hope to possibly know
What is false and real?
Where is my joy?
Where is my life?
What have you done to me?
are you doing this just out of spite?
(Scream… Scream…)
Get out of my head
Get out of my mind
Don’t think I know
Which thoughts are theirs and which are mine
Scream, Scream
I’m daring to dream
Nor me nor them
But somewhere between
The life I want
And the life I’ve been given
Not sure anymore
What I can believe in
(And I scream once more…)
Finally silence Alone in my bed
But the thoughts of the chaos
Just swim in my head
Like a fish
Or a flipper
Cinderella’s Broken glass slipper
Finally trails off
My conscious like a cowboy in the sunset
And I dream all the dreams
That I was trying to forget
And I wake
To the overbrush
The polluted stream
Chemical dust
And I do it all over again
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 9:27 AM UTC
In asylums
we know them's not mental
they're not playing the game
just working the system.
and the street is a shill
plodding uphill,
the homeless,
why should we house them?
and the needy
why bother to feed them?
Greed then?
Let's all be the pigswill
the shill
plod uphill,
take what is there
because
we do not care.
Talk about polarisation,
It's not the ice caps,
it's
not space exploration,
this is the
Great British nation, but
turned out in new clothes
as
a giant corporation.
There are reactors that breed
self sustaining,
that's greed and
reactionaries in
missions with missions
to feed those on
the edges
those with real need
systems were meant to be hacked
codes to be cracked
fracking's not allowed.
what happened?
to fair play
was that only played by
people yesterday?
what about the tomorrow that
never comes?
guess what?
it's here now.
Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 6:03 AM UTC