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Bean deas iontach, bhí sé corraitheach agus pearsanta thar orgasmic. Tá mé náirithe a admháil go raibh a spreagadh agus mar thoradh air a mhúscailt gnéasach.

a short one here:

Her smile would light up the room.
Where now I am like emptiness left alone.
Like dead corpses leaving their tomb.
She left me.

I linger from corner to corner.
As if a lonely tree left alone;
I miss sweet words, a room filled with her tone.
Her lips must have been made of honey.
Sugary words engraved in a heart of stone.
Memories of days gone, days with wings.
She left me.

A decorated room with torn pieces.
Memories that pass by as if mad men.
Pictures leave in a hurry thus no one can cheat on them.
Bring back my love so I cheat again.
With and her memories,
But she left me.

I only do limericks.

Snet has a poetry competition
And all of you have taken up the mission
To post a poem that’s right
Full of wisdom and delight
So lets commence the lyrical masturbation

There was once a girl called Ms naliaa
Her mother had come from Somalia
She was fond of love talks
And holding hands out in walks
But when angry, she was worse than galia



There was once a great big bear
Who at bosoms loved to stare
He saw one on a page
On a girl who was underage
Now he’s in prison and it’s really not fair

listen son,
i'll give you till the count of one,2, 3, 4, shan
before i bus ma lyrical gun
so ya better run,
like ya in the london marathon
gaajounit be the skinnny lyricist with the verbal nine milly
am hungry, so am cooking mcs like a shah in a killi

Love the Limericks PB!

There once was a dirty old man
Who once got sent to the can
For young girls he did like
Yet to his delight
Got used to his cell mates hand.

Am I Alone?


I get a funny feeling,
it comes from deep inside.
I get all mad and angry,
wanting to go and hide.

My doctor calls it depression,
my dad says it's just me.
But the thoughts and feelings,
no one will ever be able to see.

Some say I'm psycho,
some say I'm just weird.
It's like I'm a different person,
and the old me just disappeared.

I get really edgy,
I want to commit suicide real bad.
Then I get a headache,
followed by feeling sad.

I wish I could get help,
I wish it would go away.
Maybe if I keep praying real hard,
it will some day.

GaajoUnit....tell em.
that was Entertaining.

A BURIAL
Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Today I had a burial of my dead.
There was no shroud, no coffin, and no pall,
No prayers were uttered and no tears were shed
I only turned a picture to the wall.

A picture that had hung within my room
For years and years; a relic of my youth.
It kept the rose of love in constant bloom
To see those eyes of earnestness and truth.

At hours wherein no other dared intrude,
I had drawn comfort from its smiling grace.
Silent companion of my solitude,
My soul held sweet communion with that face.

I lived again the dream so bright, so brief,
Though wakened as we all are by some Fate;
This picture gave me infinite relief,
And did not leave me wholly desolate.

To-day I saw an item, quite by chance,
That robbed me of my pitiful poor dole:
A marriage notice fell beneath my glance,
And I became a lonely widowed soul.

With drooping eyes, and cheeks a burning flame,
I turned the picture to the blank wall's gloom.
My very heart had died in me of shame,
If I had left it smiling in my room.

Another woman's husband. So, my friend,
My comfort, my sole relic of the past,
I bury thee, and, lonely, seek the end.
Swift age has swept my youth from me at last.

~The Virus~


This spot appeared on your back
it never went away
festered and oozed
guess what it's here to stay.

Then it's a cough that
rattles in your bones,
shakes you to your mettle,
now you're stuck at home.




The doctor's they don't know it,

but I am their new best friend,
a disease to kill all mankind,
bring humanity to an end.

Needle's that you have passed
blood that you have shared
look at the people run
how they're terrified and scared.


Children who are struck down
lay in their Mother's arms
never get to say goodbye
to a beautiful morning dawn.

Women who now are lepers
are thrown into the street
selling their bodies at night
so they have food to eat.
Men who are beaten and battered
bruised beyond repair
torn in their silence
and living now in fear.

All of this because of me
and in your body now I roam
they call me HIV
and your blood is now my home.

Sonnet: Oh! Death Will Find Me, Long Before I Tire

OH! Death will find me, long before I tire
Of watching you; and swing me suddenly
Into the shade and loneliness and mire
Of the last land! There, waiting patiently,

One day, I think, I’ll feel a cool wind blowing, 5
See a slow light across the Stygian tide,
And hear the Dead about me stir, unknowing,
And tremble. And Ishall know that you have died,

And watch you, a broad-browed and smiling dream,
Pass, light as ever, through the lightless host, 10
Quietly ponder, start, and sway, and gleam—
Most individual and bewildering ghost!—

And turn, and toss your brown delightful head
Amusedly, among the ancient Dead.

Xaliimo macaanto
The first night
As you stood there
Bare and butt naked
your arms dangling
And your colors and skirts and scurfs
Beaming with the tone of your body
As if your dress was stealing
My lines to you
But to me you seemed like a ‘laan’
From an acacia tree
With no thorns or poison
thin, elegant, and Independent
That is longer than the rest
Though you could be domineering, you chose to be benevolent
Not bothering neighborly ‘laans’
Or having your leaves stuck and block
You don’t use your beauty to make an impasse
or even a point
As part of this big ‘geed’
You constantly give back and share what your height brings
To make the other ‘laans’ grow wish someday
Catch up with your reach and stretch
That first night
As I stood on the opposite side
Stripped as you
I knew we made our last leap
And intertwined our destines
By the simple act of trusting
The most sacred, the most private
Of our beings to freely dominate the
Other
And your moan
gave me the answer
I longed for, for so long

Am I Alone?


I get a funny feeling,
it comes from deep inside.
I get all mad and angry,
wanting to go and hide.

My doctor calls it depression,
my dad says it's just me.
But the thoughts and feelings,
no one will ever be able to see.

Some say I'm psycho,
some say I'm just weird.
It's like I'm a different person,
and the old me just disappeared.

I get really edgy,
I want to commit suicide real bad.
Then I get a headache,
followed by feeling sad.

I wish I could get help,
I wish it would go away.
Maybe if I keep praying real hard,
it will some day.

Basra you should become a rapper