Poems List

Death at the windows of every roof,
Twerking to the applauses of perfect rules,
Oh Nigeria your order is here,
Do not pray, do not fear,
The dust you've scattered,
The cloud have gathered.
The tree you've shaken,
Is blowing you a mighty wind,
The coffins in your parlours,
Make you now massive graves,
Do not pray, do not fear.
Who overfed and suffered not stomach ache!
Isn't it one man chop,
Belle burst again!
What need is to be born again?
The pole have lowered your flag,
Dressing it on your daily coffins,
Like a "sea-dead" to the lake,
The Greenfield dances daily awake.

Shut up Nigeria!
This meeting is for men,
If you lack shame,
Go to the lame.
Keep quiet and be mute,
You shameless promiscuous thing,
Because you've refused to think,
An elephant never think a mighty thing.
A flag on divorce talk
Aso rock on sandy pillars
Riding on borrowed cars
Keep quiet, never frog.
Show me your right wombs in this Sodom
A field planted by brambles
Withering the green grasses
Leave here and face your doom!
Your skin brothers despise you
For the untimely grave of the widow
You've made self a black
Sheep of your dark skin, a road house.
Oh, giant elephant of barren forest,
The synagogue of rapists and harlots,
A homeless uniform,
Beautifully deaf and dumb.
Greenish global terrorist,
Kidnapping grasses to savannahs,
All hail beautiful pollution!
Suing peace to the swamp and graves.
Shut up Nigeria in meeting of great men
You, who sails on strange vessels
To diverse coast. Tell me
You dead of no grave
What will you be remembered for?

I’ve been testing a few AI creative tools recently, including AI Music Generator for turning text and lyrics into short songs, Anime Character Generator for creating anime-style avatars without prompt writing, and AI Character Generator focused on consistent portraits for branding and fashion projects—all of them feel lightweight and practical rather than overcomplicated.

⁠"Se o Homem Fosse Porteiro do Inferno, Ficaria tão Velho quanto Deus de tanto Girar a Chave".

Could it ever be too late for me to forsake where I dwell?

Paradise shines bright, and spring’s beauty casts its spell.

Then summer arrives, not with the desert’s fierce heat,

but with splendid vistas, distractions complete.

Souls gather and cheer, believing light makes them whole,

feeding their minds, nourishing their soul.

Is the dream as it is because dreamers conceive?

Yet I dream of a paradise beneath, where pure spirits weave.

No matriarchs addicted to their endless sway,

chattering of trifles, claiming they hold sway again.

In summer’s embrace, I long to return to you,

to lose myself in a hallucination true.

In the frail shelter, fragile yet bold,

withstanding storms, and the soul’s tales untold.

In the endless night, I live stories anew,

grief once molded words, now cold night inspires too.

Sadness shaped my words for long,

Now it’s the night and chill that make my heart’s song.

Countless times, oh, countless days,

 

here I stand, in sorrow's haze.

 

How many times has this pain led me here,

 

to pen my thoughts, so raw and clear?

 

Nearly all my works, both old and new,

 

are salted with tears for love of you.

 

You remain the love of my life,

 

the one I cherish, in joy and strife.

 

And though my heart will never cease to love you so,

 

without release, I fear the day might come to pass,

 

when love’s flame fades, alas, alas.

 

To me, it feels a lack of care,

 

though we live apart, we share

 

a distance deep within our minds.

 

I feel a fool for being kind,

 

but when you’re near, my heart finds peace,

 

and life with you feels sweet release.

 

But what curse is this that makes me care?

 

In a world of sorrow, where

 

some live in bliss, while others cry,

 

injustice reigns, and truth’s a lie.

 

How foolish am I to crave romance,

 

when my life’s full of privilege and chance.

 

Thank you, God, for all I own,

 

may I grow wise, and do not cast a stone.

 

Grateful for the blessings sent,

 

I will not hope for a love that’s meant.
 

I glimpse the souls eternal in this town,

 

I meet their gaze, yet indifference holds us down.

 

Voting for the left, against the Nazi tide,

 

you know the future's path is one, we cannot hide.

 

So cease to lift me when I fall for love’s embrace,

 

you cast our fate to a cursed, unreal tomorrow’s space.

 

Existence isn’t forged for you and me,

 

I always warned, deceivers will deceive,

 

and as we're bound in love so true,

 

they're enamored with a world sans me and you.

 

Let’s escape this tainted city’s spite.

 

I painted us a home in shades so bright,

 

You can step close and dream us in that light,

 

for I can't paint the people right.
 

We’ve stumbled hard in this life’s dance,

You drowned me deep in credit’s trance,

And I wounded you with cautious stance.

A fresh beginning may be best,

I won’t await you or the rest.

I saw a phoenix rise, a mystic sight,

Its beauty grand, a pure delight,

Yet nothing changed with all its light.

North remains, a constant call,

This boy must find his way, after all.

The world bears witness to my wrong,

But comfort comes from faith’s strong song,

God sees what good you must prolong.

Oh my God, is it just me or does

Shangri-La finally show a favor divine to me?

Don’t be foolish, every time the heavens smile my way,

a brother is dragged to hell, astray.

I’m ensnared, longing to be free,

yet yearning still for life’s decree.

I’ve lived so little as I desire,

and much as I can, in fate’s cruel mire.

Privileges, countless, fortune, and grace,

yet I’ve lost my soul in another place,

another realm, a dreamer’s embrace.

So I suffer for me, for him,

for everything and nothing, on a whim.

Joy returns when cares diminish,

when the world consumes my time, my spirit replenished.

How futile to be useful to the world’s design?

How futile to be useful to oneself, confined?

How vast the pain of loss, the will to attack,

that leaves a soul in eternal longing’s track?

I feel all is crucial despite its vanity,

just as I fall prey to such great treachery,

I seek to change the world and destiny.

My joy has been a chosen grace,

 

sculpted by God, Her marks I trace.

 

What's the point of sacrifice for a future's hollow?

 

Told not to dwell in yesterdays we borrow.

 

What to do in a false tomorrow,

 

where truth hides what brings sorrow?

 

Is this real on Earth, or but my mind's conceit?

 

A captive of mortal plight, ambitions in retreat.

 

Moved to this world, my soul not endless,

 

repeating to all, my message relentless.

 

Is this misery? Now, Solomon and I share its weight,

 

I've wept like a man, writing follies innate.

 

Obsessed with conquests, yet vigor eludes,
 

caught in the chase, in disquietude.
 

Let your life go, seize your freedom’s gleam,

 

I can’t bear to watch them hurt, your heart so sweet.

 

No season right, the time just seems to flee,

 

from scorching heat to coldness, bleak and grim.

 

My dearest, love for you flows deep, extreme,

 

yet claims of passion’s fire might just deceive.

 

For in the summer’s blaze, I do not seethe,

 

I’m but a rose with thorns, and bloody seams.

 

Though roots have claimed the earth, where life does teem,

 

my heart still races, uncorrected beat.

 

It isn’t right, yet destiny I greet,

 

last night my soul found peace, yet turmoil streamed.

 

Oh darling, I long to dwell beneath the ground with you,

 

in silent company where love can be found anew.
 

I hungered, oh the plight, to need all near in sight.

Creativity fled, as art held sway in my head.

Upon these rented walls that bound,

I saw the words of Rumi sound:

“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere, they’re in each other all along.”

I’m moved, yet filled with woe,

today’s the day we honor those who motherly affections bestow.

My own, alone, still dreams for me,

what luxury, to just survive this spree.

I tell her of my newfound goals, for old victories no longer console.

I seek horizons far and wide, to lessen the shallow tide inside.

Mother, love soars in my refrain,

the ache of distance, your silent pain echoes.

A kindred ache within me grows, akin to the man who claims he’s close.

 

I’ve seen too much, weary from the view,

 

but still I crave the life I wish to pursue.

 

Daily the same, convincing myself anew,

 

brighter moments await with you.

 

A brilliant man dying under bitter lights,

 

one day my passion rare as twilight fights.

 

For each day wanes and memory ignites

 

of times unsure, with passions and plights.

 

What’s real escapes me, lost in your trace,

 

triumphant times I can no longer embrace.

 

Am I so fragile? Some days just erase

 

by whims of neglect, in sorrow’s space.

 

The truth—I love you, feelings sometimes shown,

 

from you they come, and then they’re flown.

 

Lost in yeses, sunk in no’s alone,

 

hating myself for feelings overblown.

 

Cursed I feel, by life’s relentless tone.

 

All the journals of science, priced beyond my breath,

 

are stored where fortunes tower, perhaps in Hong Kong’s wealth.

 

Opaque the process seems, yet cycles clear abide,

 

to publish and take pride, a never-ending tide.

 

Ask about their travels, how many have there been?

 

Living broad and wide, in randomness unseen.

 

For their victories are listed in public view, you see:

 

work and places, faces—demands to set aside my glee.

 

Yet this is science now, not as it was, or will be hence,

 

I pray recalling minds of genius, cloaked in magic’s dense.

 

They soared beyond the mundane, where fame and mystique blend,

 

in realms where wonder reigns, and mysteries never end.

Villain Gray is love, a memory steeped in pain,

a ghost from my past, again and again.

On that fateful day, I was deeply hurt,

troubled by issues, feelings overt.

Yet somehow it happens, things go astray,

they vanish like shadows, without delay.

Now, writing of love, a tender theme,

I find myself lost, in a recurring dream.

In moments of joy, still, a shadow takes hold,

a course through my soul, both brash and bold.

Safety eludes me, though I strive to find peace,

in the house of my mind, where struggles cease.

God grants me courage, through the dark to pave,

a path of bravery, my heart to save.

In the shadow of a silent sin, a sense of discord grows within.

Long lost in a tale of old, in silence, my thoughts unfold.

Dreams are shaped by hands not mine, destined for him or the divine.

Evening prayers, a hope for peace, yet bring visions that never cease:

A world designed for you and me, yet from it, my soul yearns to be free.

I learned that kindness is my role, dreaming for others, a part of my soul.

Battles within, a constant fight, fade as I face my inner plight.

A common curse we all bear, my dreams shrouded in a common despair.

Life and death, themes I’d rather not ponder, seeking answers that within me wander.

Como uma linda flor, meu amor floresce em um bosque colorido. Independente da cor de minha flor, chorarei por sua dor; meu amor é incolor.

 Cada pétala que cai de teus olhos representa as gotas da chuva forte do inverno; frio, mas doce, como algodão-doce.

 Cada raiz da sua flor prova o seu vigor; a vontade de persistir e nunca desistir. 

 Te peço um pouco das suas pétalas.

 Te peço um pouco das suas raizes.

 Me deixa te provar o meu valor.

 Me deixa te provar o meu amor.

Our minds are open books to read, the Lord twists time with divine heed.

My pen has inked no joyful tune, merely shades of sorrow, under a waning moon.

Yet prayers ascend for our shared fate, while my own hours dissipate in the wait.

Gratitude swells for the breath, the fight, for moments shared in your sacred light.

Ghosts may haunt, searing thoughts within, scars may mark the battles we’re yet to win.

But life, it stretches beyond my silent pleas, vaster than visions the praying eye sees.

Each day it bears us on a tide so vast, in this grand design, I find peace at last.

Gostosinho o Passado 
Azedo e Apimentado
Soco nas Bolas em 7 segundos

Primo de primeiro grau da morte
Jumpscares...
Pontos de Exclamação!

Eu existo, mas apenas drogado
Eu falo, mas apenas calado
Eu canto, mas de um jeito tão errado
Eu ando, mas o caminho é complicado


A sua Reação é nada além de um Produto
Toda vez que eu penso nisso eu só fico PUTO
P.U.T.O.,
o que significa Perdedor Ultrapassado Terrivalmente Oleoso
Graças a Deus eu tenho minha toalha pra absorver meu Gozo!!!


A quantidade Imensurável de Lixo que mora aqui
É completamente irrelevante
Então não faz nada, só cala a sua boca ai
Sua voz é extremamente IRRITANTE


A Relevância desse pensamento é tão discutível
Que se torna automaticamente Irrelevante
Pensa numa Coisa INÚTIL
Pensou? Kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk



Irrelevante também é esse poema 
Que foi feito pra ser um Desabafo
Alguma vez você já fez ENEMa?
Eu tenho Nojo do seu bafo

As I imagine my body
buried in a low-income public cemetery
and worms going through
my nose and filling my mouth
with their crap
something inside me remembers
that I want to give to myself
a brief moment of glory
before kissing Death.

Estou com fome mas vou vomitar
Estou com sono mas vou pensar naquilo
Estou com vontade de continuar escrevendo esse poema mas não tenho criatividade
Estou com raiva de alguém mas não vou matar 
Estou cheio de paixão por alguém mas não irei me declarar nunca
Estou com agonia da substituição de "com" por "cheio" da frase acima mas não irei arrumar
Estou com vontade de consumir obras de arte mas não vou terminá-las
Estou com vontade de superar meus medos e traumas mas tenho mais medo de me traumatizar mais ainda
Estou com vontade de te dizer opiniões impactantes mas tenho medo das consequências
E por fim, estou com vontade de encerrar isto mas não gostei do resultado.

Será que aquela caverna é tão linda assim?
Eu entrei nela, tão profunda e escura 
A caverna que VOCÊ e EU conhecemos
Aquela que fala com você todo dia
Lá não existem as correntes de Einstein 
TUDO acontece graças a ela, mais ninguém
Com a esperança de que poderia destrui-la
A enchi de bombas nucleares 
Mas para minha surpresa 
As bombas me mataram
Agora não sou nada além de um cadáver putrefato

Eu odeio esse poema, pois ele é mal feito 
Justamente por isso que eu o amo
Mas como alguém tão imbecil e animal como eu poderia escrever um poema bem?
Eu sou tão incrível que eu escrevo mal, pois me faz livre
E assim nasceu o dadaísmo, que se opôs ao classicismo


Eu amo meu poema ele é tão bonito
Justamente por isso que eu o odeio 
Mas como alguém tão maravilhoso e incrível como eu poderia escrever mal?
Eu sou tão horrível que escrevo bem, pois é o certo
E assim nasceu o classicismo, que se opôs ao dadaísmo

Não existe nada mais confortante do que a Paz que a Guerra traz
Nem nada mais desgastante que o Suor que o Lazer traz
Se eu sou um vagabundo por que você perde eeu tempo comigo?
Se eu perdi minha alma por que você ainda me ama?

"Esse poema tá virando um romance brega" disse o leitor
"A quantidade de erros de ortografia presentes são uma vergonha!"
São esses milhões de ruídos na minha cabeça que me fazem gritar
Minha cabeça é onde você e tudo pisam, mas pisam com pregos na sola
Mas se eu sou Deus por que eu sou ateu? Eu não acredito em mim mesmo?
Burrice niilista, jamais repita uma coisa dessas de novo!
Tá falando demais já sabia?

Cadê você Cygnus X-1?

It’s fun to watch
People going around in
The city
Like little ants working
For their Queen.

Ladies and gentlemen
I present you
Your highness:
The money.

Guiltily people will always think that you are talking bad about them, so do not talk to yourself in the mirror.