"otha" poems
Slap da bass right up mon.
Slap da bass down low now.
Bump ya sweet ting a little closa.
I just wanna get to know ya.
Gettin' all blem on ya vibes.
You gettin' knocked down by mine.
Bend down, turn 'round, back it up right.
Wanna puff what I'm puffin' all night.
Me nose burns with wit smoke.
Me body's empty, waiting for ya touch.
The bass is slammin' in me ear drums.
The bass slappin' makes me face numb.
Beat poundin' as I slide over
Boombastic rydems like no otha'.
You da noicest ting I ever did see.
Lemme take ya home. Slap da bass wit me.
Slap it riiiiiight up
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
Here's a little story I tink you'll like.
It's not bout' two shmucks looking for amour.
It's all bout' me, my life, and my big fat bluntz.
Imma bout' to tell ya what Reggae's for.
Reggae stands for peace and the luv in yaself.
It's bout' them spankable honies and big fat beatz.
It's bout' sweet **** chicken and otha tasty stuff.
It's bout' that dank smell of ***** fillin' da streetz.
Reggae's da warm sensation from a fresh beef patty.
It's the chill rub-a-dub sound of dat Marley noize.
It's the Jamaican sun spreadin light on ya gurl's curves.
It's the dutty jammin ya get in to witcha dazy rond-boys.
My life is Reggae. Reggae is my life
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 1:17 PM UTC
Today I decided to go to my crib.
I then invited my homies to bid
that Lamar is goin to bring his kid.
So while I'll be chillin here popin some lids,
I noticed none of my homies have come to my crib,
not even Lamar and his kid.
So I tried actin all cool,
until I saw a small red pool.
I soon found myself a fool
by following that pool.
I found two brothers who were smothered in red.
One was dead,
and conceived a decapitated head.
It was Lamar who was stained red.
The otha brotha seemed to be a kid.
I said, "Why would you do somethin like this."
He said, "you will never find the otha bodies I hid."
I soon found my homies did make it to my crib,
Every single one of them were hung by the head.
They were all there except for Lamar's kid.
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 1:49 AM UTC
Zion on me side.
Babylon on me shlong.
Come on, take a ride.
Island tour won't be long.
Wrap up ya bamboo.
Stuff it down ya ****
Smoke corking up on you.
Island tour won't be long.
Come on, sunshine.
I'm a bad bwai, strong.
I wancha to be mine.
Island tour won't be long.
Get a peek 'a' dat bumba clot.
So rite, so wrong.
I'll throw my dunsa down in ya slot.
Island tour won't be long.
Get ya cat otha here, ya sweet ting.
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 10:19 AM UTC
Squash dem
Dats wut I got ta do ta make ma own
Toss dem
Out da windows like dey dids me
Show dem mommas gots a bag
Coppa tone.
Pile dem
Like da two faced deuces dey is.
File dem
Put dem in cabanets
Lock dem up
Wit da otha boyes
Not mens.
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
I know what it's like to be called *****
You are not alone with this badge, brotha
Saturday is for you and me
The victims of profanity
No free ice cream, flowers, or the otha
May 11, 2013
May 11, 2013 at 7:31 PM UTC
See ma name is Lil t, born female but got pronouns with they and he
Ma big brotha calls me a lil' ****** ma otha brotha calls himself Born2Play with one digit
Nobody talk **** with this 5 foot 4, you mess with me and you out dat door!
I'm a Virgo born in a foreign country, at the age of three flew over the sea
Ma blood is made up of Blue, Yellow and Red. Romanian is one of the 5 Latin languages if y'all dumb squats read
A child of God is what they call me,
I **** skittles when I reach the MTL metro Beaudry
I ain't like those otha chicks,
When I was 17 I realized I didn't like ****
Put two and two togetha,
Adopted rainbow sheep of ma family, had a dream about this hot chick named Gabby
Ima end this rap short and sweet,
I stand proud and tall for Comaneci the great 10 on 10 gymnast athlete
Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 3:15 PM UTC
Left for Goa with some trepidation,
Consoled Wifi and Boss
that, will resume service
with renewed vigour after 17.
On to the Re-Union.
It's been some time
since have met those guys,
and there are few girls too..
Some of them I knew
Some were acquaintances..
On to the Re-Union.
Did not know what we would do,
just a few rounds of drinks,
and old memories rekindled ,
was all I expected.
Yeah... On to the Re-Union.
Arrived a day late
and on to the contrary,
the excitement palpitated
through my rather smart phone
of the party already, started.
Instant messages throwing images
of bonhomie and ribaldry..
Ahaa its the Re-Union.
On seeing me the gang was excited
as I was tha long lost shipmate,
arriving from the dead..
The look of them, older and curvier,
with edges given way to gentle roundels.
Ample greys and ample tummies.
Eyes crinkled with Laughing lines,
foreheads furrowed with long worries..
Tis what happens at a Re-Union.
Love just overflowed,
as did the beeya,
we danced away like tiny teens,
each hug an acknowledgement
from another battered old soul,
of recognition,
that I am you and you are me,
not different from each otha.
That I have survived
and will thrive,
and will not let go now......
that I have found you...
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 2:59 PM UTC
my life is ****
my life is ****
b-cos of u
i dont understand
wot i shud do
1 day ur sweet
den wen im hurtin
u get discrete
wif otha boys flirtin
my life is ****
i wish i cud die
i cant understand
Y i dont try
u say u love me
den reject my touch
i wish u cud see
da pain iz 2 much
my life is ****
now go away
my life is ****
sorry 2 say
my life is ****
its ur fault girl
my life is ****
Fallen angelz?
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 2:23 PM UTC
The way you move your hips
To the rhythm we’ve created
As the lips slide across one another
**** you so ****** wet
To the way I push down on ya pelvis
My otha lips French kissin’
Our tongues rubbing, caressin’ ... vertically sometimes a horizontal movement
All while your juices run into mine ....
The rhythm we’ve created is mixing the two
Creating this ****** mess we call ecstasy
The most wettest, slipperiest, sweet as nectar comes
The perfect consistency to slurp
Just to allow a little to drip so that it can be twirled and played with
It’s called sprung juice.... THA **** YOU GOING type juice... The “I promise to always...” juice.... That I’m not and don’t ******* play when it comes to you no matter who it is!! Tha ****
The feeling makes my limbs go numb
Creates this pulsating wavy feeling
I’m weak, your panting and we’re in total bliss
Too sensitive to touch
Too sensitive and exhausted to move
“Just let me lay here” I tell you
The supernova we created was so intense
We can only hold hands while we fall asleep
Wishing to dream of what just took place
I’ve met my match
I have the intimacy piece that was missing
It was you, My ****** Dawg 🤞🏽💕
Sep 22, 2025
Sep 22, 2025 at 5:32 AM UTC
what I got for mother day
Ah What I got on yet another Mom Day
some air and some imagination, hopeful wishes at bay.
some invisible, un -acknowlege_ables, some written unperson-ables.
A happy M day not much else to say..
As If i am some kind of..
Never there fa you kinda motha/mutha.
Don't do nothing fa ya Kinda motha..
Trifling otha kinda, something or other type motha..
What I did get and have is.....the spirit of let down.
A gift of no consideration.
A quiet shadow of you ain't that important or relevant.
The failed chance to say oh you shouldn't have's.
The missed moments of awe how sweet of you's.
The crumbs of no gratitude, from self absorbed tudes.
And a simple say anything I'd come off as rude.
I'm unseen, unheard, seen as old fashioned old school old ways.
Blinded shades, wisdom ignored, prayers stayed, unappreciated days.
Thanks for the little tab bits of invisible cards...hmm really
Thanks for the symbolic s of traditional materials,..untouchables
Those just tryna say I lov ya so's...(walkin in them shoes)
The absence of it can at times pain the soul.
Never one to ASK FOR MONEY OR GIFTS...Do I! wee bits..
By surprise be nice to discover how It'd feel to get the what ifs.
To be given the unexpected gift, how heaviness might lift.
How solemness n sadness may suddenly shift.
It's not the material of a gift,, It's the showing of
heartfelt bliss. Spiritual Uplift.
I sit and it makes me recall..the six times, six souls, six plights..
To sow, to plant, to till the ground,
to labor, to sacrifice, to pray during those daily fights.
To feed, to nurture, to yearly grow.
Unselfishly..regardless of the needs of me.
By Grace of mercy heavens kept me.
So I can be..still Mommie, unperfectly.
Happy Momma Day 2Me...
@S.A.M _H.E.R/POETRY_2020
May 11, 2020
May 11, 2020 at 8:14 AM UTC
I keep talkin' to myself
But I ain't even tryin' to listen
In one ear and out the otha
*Know it all...stubborn mother *****
-Jennifer DeAngelo
Copyrighted 2016
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 1:28 PM UTC
Something in me tries to blame
The lack of guidance that i had
Da lack of advice from a dad
I only act right when she's sad
It shouldnt reach that point.
Reachin low emotions frequently
Theres no longa anything she need in me
No reason to be pleasin me
Truth is so hard to ingest
I make it so hard to invest
Ive really putya to the test
Ive hardened you in da chest
They tell you that our kid isn't the glue
Why you with him? If you always blue
Even you wish dat u ****** knew
Im no longa why you get up
But im alway why you fed up
Im Surprised you havent let up
I made yo attitude become so bitter
Brought the worst up out you
I wanna fix this, ya i really do!
I been watching how-tos
But waiting on a broken record
Isnt worth anotha ounce
Inbox fulla otha cats
Who always trynna pounce
So I know the end is near
That's the way the game go
No needa live fear
But ayo listen to dis
Da OG told me
Boy, she just anotha fish
But she aint bitin yo bait/
So don't be trippin *****
If she ain't fighting dont say/
Sep 22, 2017
Sep 22, 2017 at 1:19 PM UTC