Last post from Jayj, enjoy…


Many, Zany,

Are these cravings that feud my deepest fears,

Food that shall take me through the years,

Stop the brood,stave off the tears,

Bread,that which I’ll toast and maybe get a yeZ,

If only my wish were a horse,

Then I’d gladly feed this fish to my cause,

My muse be a lady,

We fuse… we’ll make many a fine baby. :-).

This is no ruse to snare me-lady,

Lest you be quick to abuse and declare malady,

My mouth hath not been gagged,

I’m just shirking the trite and the over-used,

So if you’ve been tagged,

I expect you to be bright and not get confused.

…My thoughts I sieve, time nigh to get pensive,

Her Beauty borders on the delusive,

Even so, this brother mutters “Hmmn Impressive”

I’ve never seen Beauty so comprehensive,

Been thus totally possessive, as it be utterly compulsive,

My neurons tick-over, I get that impulsive,

This moron flicks the cover, I rubber-neck into the pen-sieve,

I seek the permissive, what I get is repulsive,

“She’s capital-intensive,but how come I didn’t perceive?”

(Grunt!) “So she’s expensive,” I start to get apprehensive,

Like an hypertensive my blood rockets!,

One brazen look into her eye-sockets,

Tells me my order’s taller than a dozen sky-rockets!

But I will even if I have to bath her moppets,

…Cook her gourmets, wash her corsets,:-D

…clear the thicket, wash her closet,

Empty the waste baskets, fill the water buckets,

Fix burnt sockets, mend the car gasket,

Teach her ballet, spend week-ends in a chalet,

I’ll wear her in my locket, take her to the puppets,

I’ll carry around a musket, write her a sonnet,

If Kendra had met me she mightn’t have married hunk Hank Baskett,

Dear Reader “Make you sha no talk sey my head no correct!”

‘Cause these are true love’s etiquette. 🙂

I seek her as my Alhaja and me her Alhaji,

We’ll build a ranch in Ajah and have lots of Faaji,

I no go lie even if I branch go smoke *Eja*  for Itafaji,:-)

See me not as a punk even if my hair-style is punk,

I won’t *funk*  you believe me I’m not trying to punk you,

I won’t open your legs and try to eat your junk,

I won’t grab your kegs and try to spew my spunk,

Walahi  i’m soooooo love-drunk,

I decide to buy a frock that reads “Love-struck”,

Like our chords have struck…(I wish),

I chew the cud,“Hmmn,all roads lead to self-destruct!”

Thoughts still clustered,

“She might not buy this o!” but still I won’t get flustered,

I admit Luck could smile on me in just  a teeny-weeny tad,

‘Cause rough is the flight of this bustard,

And she likes not boys that sag the jeans in which their butts are clad,

But I hope she’ll  like this ballad even if she loathes the bard,

Hard is this task more-so that I’m now a grad, 🙂 😦

But some chics are like tampons are some are like pads,

So take my word “This chic pass Ogi* this one na Custard!

As my ink runneth dry of the seed of mustard,

Wry is the only smile that can be mustered,

“‘Tis a battle to be fought”, my butterflies unison in flutter,

“Lessons have been taught,” my heart has found another  reason to totter,

Even my coffer spills-over of tots of her,

I could Spill over because of her! 😀



JayJ ™ 2010 ©

by Fhawaz ‘jayj’ Ibn-Abdulmhuiz on Monday, August 30, 2010 at 1:55pm


“Jay-Z”…My muse be a lady,

We fuse…we’ll make many a fine baby. :-).”



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