POETRY COMPETITION!.

[1nemansquad]

Inspired by Shirib's thread 'I still love her'

Subject: SOMALIA

i'm going to write something and post it 2morrow inshaállah and i think everyone should take part aslo, your own words, write them down and post it. Lets see how can write the best piece

its worth it

[Basra-]

Rise up my love,
like the white peaceful majestic dove,
Do not be defeated.
Do not be cheated.
Forget those who have trespassed.
And blessed those who passed,
in your honor.
Shine and becon your horn of africa.
Sing your best Baledweyne Somalia fantastica.
Rise up my love.
Wipe off the dust and rise from the ground my love.
Come fly away in the blue sky.
Do not be solemly shy.
Rise up with the sun,
Rise up and sing Subaax wanagsaan.

[Shirib]

Good idea, I'm sure there are plenty of good talented poets here.

p.s. I am not one of them, but I'd love to read them

[qoraxeey]

Rise up my love,
like the white peaceful majestic dove,
Do not be defeated.
Do not be cheated.
Forget those who have trespassed.
And blessed those who passed,
in your honor.
Shine and becon your horn of africa.
Sing your best Baledweyne Somalia fantastica.
Rise up my love.
Wipe off the dust and rise from the ground my love.
Come fly away in the blue sky.
Do not be solemly shy,
Rise up with the sun,
Rise up and sing Subaax wanagsaan. ?

good one buurtooy dhagdheer

[Basra-]

qoraxeey you are welcomed macaanto athiest.

[qoraxeey]

Basra , abaaha waas

I take it back

[Basra-]

[DisplacedDiraac]

I'd love to take part.. but i'm busy doing assignments

[1nemansquad]

I just woke up so I'm going to write it now, take part in it people

[sadeboi]

This is Part One of a Five Part Story-Poem I am writing.The over all piece deals with Somalia and how the events in that country have affected people, particularly the family in this poem. It might be a bit confusing in the beginning but the overall piece will makes sense.


Mothers in Muqdisho!

My heart aches of sorrow
I am in need of misery
To sooth my fragile soul
Collapsing at the weight of pain

Mother, tell me the tale
Of the horrors in our homeland
Of how you would sip Sabarmuuto on Sunday
And a grenade awaken you the next day

Selfish you might say,
but your pain brings forth happier days,
only at the sight of your quivering lips
accompanied by the sound of your sobbing tears
Do I feel the warmth embrace of my mother
Instead of another, that simply provides me shelter

Why do you limp mother?
Your scar is beautiful, don’t hide it
Shame, me and Ahmed aren’t brothers
I love him dearly

Son,
The mothers in Muqdisho
fear motor shells
more than the lack of a meal
a plant or two can be a mouthful
but a mouth parted in two needs a miracle

They run with their blessings
carrying the burden of men upon their back
looking for an oasis in a barren land
they fight for a spot with shade
nurturing their little ones
with every visible rib
they plead with the God above!


Men with machines
Maniacs lacking morality
Mothers mourning
Muqdisho Burns!

Solicitors sold the hate
Us and them they uttered
Placing a mirror in front of them
Blinded by the dollar
they failed to see the other
their brother!

Here they said,
These are natural herbs
They will hold back guilt
Help you harm
Hold them hostage
Here, have these healing pills
The hereafter is for the hopeless!

[LionHeart-112]

Poetry is gay

[Koronto60]

sadeboi,

That was actually good, man. Didn't figure you as the poetic type.

Good luck with the rest of it.

[LionHeart-112]

This is Part One of a Five Part Story-Poem I am writing.The over all piece deals with Somalia and how the events in that country have affected people, particularly the family in this poem. It might be a bit confusing in the beginning but the overall piece will makes sense.


Mothers in Muqdisho!

My heart aches of sorrow
I am in need of misery
To sooth my fragile soul
Collapsing at the weight of pain

Mother, tell me the tale
Of the horrors in our homeland
Of how you would sip Sabarmuuto on Sunday
And a grenade awaken you the next day

Selfish you might say,
but your pain brings forth happier days,
only at the sight of your quivering lips
accompanied by the sound of your sobbing tears
Do I feel the warmth embrace of my mother
Instead of another, that simply provides me shelter

Why do you limp mother?
Your scar is beautiful, don’t hide it
Shame, me and Ahmed aren’t brothers
I love him dearly

Son,
The mothers in Muqdisho
fear motor shells
more than the lack of a meal
a plant or two can be a mouthful
but a mouth parted in two needs a miracle

They run with their blessings
carrying the burden of men upon their back
looking for an oasis in a barren land
they fight for a spot with shade
nurturing their little ones
with every visible rib
they plead with the God above!


Men with machines
Maniacs lacking morality
Mothers mourning
Muqdisho Burns!

Solicitors sold the hate
Us and them they uttered
Placing a mirror in front of them
Blinded by the dollar
they failed to see the other
their brother!

Here they said,
These are natural herbs
They will hold back guilt
Help you harm
Hold them hostage
Here, have these healing pills
The hereafter is for the hopeless!

That's the funniest shit i have ever read...hilariously morose....You, my friend, have no talent for poetry..

[sadeboi]

lionheart how about these quote-ish like ones?

A world of illusion--
of sorcerers with supernatural lips,
creating quakes with their fingertips,
of magicians with malice intent,
meant to make mothers mourn
at the feet of men they once adored--
self-proclaimed saints who sin,
and sinners who seek pardon,
solidify the sad reality.


-------------------------------------------------------------------

How does she make the world twirl
then collapse at your arms,
make you deaf to a lions roar
yet visible to its tears,
she feeds you wisdom
and teaches you hunger at her fingertips;
she is a mother, unlike any other!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
There is an antidote for every illness,
for the soul that strives to find inner peace;
for the mother that weeps alone at night,
for the sons who sins in the dark,
for the daughter who allows beasts to dwell in her garden,
for the father to be and the absentee;
embrace with your hearts
say from the tip of your tongue:
" There is NO GOD but GOD and Muhammed (scw) is the Messanger of GOD."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Like the back of a slave and the power of a whip,
Black people have left a mark on American History,
Yet self-appointed prophets decided what to convey,
So school only depicted a polished up part of the play,
Picked and chosen like cotton
Only pieces were displayed,
The rest lay scattered under Harriet’s tunnels


Beat me, my black skin can bare the pain,
hang me high so I won't die in shame,
blaze the house and woden cross,
fill the little souls behind bars;
there is no equality in equal and separate,
a moral injustice will not leave me unsaid,
you can't kill me if I'm already dead!

-----------------------------------------------------------------

[LionHeart-112]

lionheart how about these quote-ish like ones?

A world of illusion--
of sorcerers with supernatural lips,
creating quakes with their fingertips,
of magicians with malice intent,
meant to make mothers mourn
at the feet of men they once adored--
self-proclaimed saints who sin,
and sinners who seek pardon,
solidify the sad reality.


-------------------------------------------------------------------

How does she make the world twirl
then collapse at your arms,
make you deaf to a lions roar
yet visible to its tears,
she feeds you wisdom
and teaches you hunger at her fingertips;
she is a mother, unlike any other!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
There is an antidote for every illness,
for the soul that strives to find inner peace;
for the mother that weeps alone at night,
for the sons who sins in the dark,
for the daughter who allows beasts to dwell in her garden,
for the father to be and the absentee;
embrace with your hearts
say from the tip of your tongue:
" There is NO GOD but GOD and Muhammed (scw) is the Messanger of GOD."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Like the back of a slave and the power of a whip,
Black people have left a mark on American History,
Yet self-appointed prophets decided what to convey,
So school only depicted a polished up part of the play,
Picked and chosen like cotton
Only pieces were displayed,
The rest lay scattered under Harriet’s tunnels


Beat me, my black skin can bare the pain,
hang me high so I won't die in shame,
blaze the house and woden cross,
fill the little souls behind bars;
there is no equality in equal and separate,
a moral injustice will not leave me unsaid,
you can't kill me if I'm already dead!

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Plagiarism is a sin!