Best Fein Poems


St Patrick's Alphabet

St Patrick’s Alphabet

A is America land of the free

B is for Beatles as Irish as me

C is the great Cliffs of Moher so pretty

D is for Dublin the capital city

E is for Eire – true name of my land

F is for Fionn and the Fianna his band

G is for Guinness a world-famous name

H is for Hurling a rather rough game

I is my Island and what it creates

J is for Joyce, Stephens, Swift and Jack Yeats

K is King Niall and the old kings at Tara

L is a leprechaun called MacNamara

M is for mise, me fein and me too

N is for Nuala, Naoimh, Nora and crew

O is O’Reilly O’Keefe and their worth

P -  Patrick saint in the land of my birth

Q is for quiz, gob, cailin and the rest

R is the River Shannon in the west

S is for Shamrock a flower of three

T is Tramore, Tullamore and Tralee 

U is U2 who are still going strong

V is from Ulster – he’s Van Morrison

W – whiskey a very strong drink

X is eXcuse me no word can I think

Y is for You when like me you agree,

Z ’s not in Ireland there no last can be

When Time Has Come

When time has come... / Wenn die Zeit gekommen ist... / Cuando ha llegado el momento...

When time has come to say good-bye
to leave this earth in time,
then let me rest under a sad cypress
close to a field of rye.
And let my shroud of white 
through darkest nights yet shine.
But don't lay roses down for me
as blossoms wilt to soon
and let a red moon rising high 
for everyone to see


Wenn dann die Zeit gekommen ist
von dieser Welt zu geh'n
dann lasst mich ruh'n unter Zypressen
und nahe einem Feld mit Roggen
wo noch der Mohn und auch Kornblumen steh'n.
Und lasst dem weißen Totenhemd so fein
selbst in der tiefsten Nacht noch seinen Schein.
Doch keine Rosen sollt ihr legen,
denn Blüten welken viel zu schnell
und lasst den roten Mond 
hoch oben sich bewegen
für alle sichtbar hell


Cuando ha llegado el momento de decir adiós
dejando esta tierra en mi tiempo,
déjame descansar bajo triste ciprés
y cerca de un campo de centeno.
Y dejar que mi sudario blanco
brilla a través de noche oscura de estreno
Que no me ponen rosas
como flores se marchiten rápido
y dejar la luna roja levantar
al alto cielo raro
y para todo bién visible claro


Note: Inspired by a song from Act II, Scene IV od Shakespeare's Twelfth Night

Give Ireland Back To the Irish

The familiar sound of gunshots 
rings out in the dead of night,
As a sniper takes position in the 
bushes out of sight,
Past my front door I hear the 
sound of many marching feet,
As 2 Para make their presence 
felt upon a Belfast street,
Gerry Adams does a hard days 
graft 'n' then it's homeward 
bound,
As a British soldier just 
nineteen lays bleeding on the 
ground,
Well he fought for queen 'n' 
country so it comes as no 
surprise,
As he draws his last 
breath,says a prayer and there 
a hero dies,
So many slain civilians(they're 
just casualties of war,
Do the f*ckers even realise 
what it is they're fighting for?
Or has the whole point of it got 
lost in the mists of time?
The Ira take credit for their 
latest deadly crime,
In a safe house miles from 
nowhere there's three loyalists 
lying dead,
One in a grave (he was buried 
alive) and two with one straight 
through the head,
But the score it was evened 
before the cock crowed,three 
catholic civilians were slain,
And there's rumours of 
vengeance and fights to the 
death and calls to keep calm 
from Sinn Fein,
As politicians armed with pens 
sit counting up lost lives,
The Ulster Paramilitary sit 
sharpening their knives,
And loading slugs into the clip 
of someone else's gun,
"Come on now lads there's dirty 
deeds awaiting to be done"
In Londonderry,County Down,in 
Belfast,Newry too,
The Catholics and the 
Protestants keep Ireland torn in 
two,
As our children grow in the 
shadow of fear,
There's a stench of death and 
bloodshed here,
So you with the power please 
give us the chance,
To find a solution and finish the 
dance,
Give Ireland back to the Irish 
pleeaasssse!
Or bring the whole damned 
nation crashing down to its 
knees.


The Verdict

Copyright © 2013
07/17/2013

Skittles and a soda
against a gun in its holster?

One day that scream
will be known as a teen
not a heinous lying Fein

What a sinister ploy and twist
with a loaded gun and no fist?

Had everyone sitting and waiting
doomed by a verdict just delaying

Was this just an optical illusion
or, a devious planned conclusion?

Now, this generation too afraid
wearing hoodies will get you dead

But, the Klan was still glad
hoodies they've always had

A verdict they too saw,
ushering in martial law


by: LP
edited: 7/30/13
© Les Pruitt  Create an image from this poem.

My Mr Good Thing

That's that good dose of medication,
That stimulation, 
That creme, 
That protein
That good love that makes you Fein
Like a wet dream.
That **** that makes you cum
In your panties and jeans.
That mmmm that makes you wanna sing.
My Mr. Good Thing.
That relaxing touch.
Huh
Like a xanax pill.
That's that good -good,
That make you cook a full coarse meal.
That one hundred
That real.
Have you head over heels.
Make you suck his dick so good
Have him paying all your bills.
I'm so overwhelmed 
By the joy that he brings.
I'm a black woman
Who honors her King.
He is mines, and mines alone.
My Mr. Good Thing.
No one can ever take his place
Or come in between.

Give Ireland Back To the Irish

The familiar sound of gunshots rings out in the dead of night,as a sniper takes position in the bushes out of sight,
Past my front door I hear the sound of many marching feet,as II Para make thier presence felt upon a Belfast street,
Gerry Adams does a hard days graft and then it's homeward bound,as a British soldier just nineteen lays wounded on the ground,
Well he fought for Queen and country so it comes as no surprise,as he drew his last breath,said a prayer and there a hero dies,
So many slain civilians there just casualties of war,do these people even realise what it is they're fighting for?
Or has the whole point of it got lost in the mists of time,the I.R.A take credit for thier latest deadly crime,
In a safe-house miles from nowhere ther's three loyalists lying dead,one in a grave[he was buried alive]and two with one straight through the head,
But the score it was evened before the cock crowed three Catholic civilians were slain,and there's rumours of vengence and fights to the death and calls to keep calm from Sinn Fein,
As politicians armed with pens sit counting up lost lives,the Ulster Paramilitary sit sharpening thier knives,
And loading slugs into the clip of someone elses gun,cpme on now lads there's dirty deeds awaitin to be done,
In Londonderry,County Down,in Belfast,newry too,the catholics and the protestants keep Ireland torn into,
as our children grow up in the shadow of fear,there's a stench of death and bloodshen here,
So you with the power to give us a chance,let's find a solution and finish the dance,
give Ireland back to the Irish....please,or bring the whole damned nation crashing down to its knees.


Give Ireland Back To the Irish

The 
familiar 
sound 
of 
gunshots 
rings 
out 
in 
the 
dead 
of 
night,as 
a 
sniper 
takes 
position 
in 
the 
bushes 
outta 
sight,
Past 
my 
front 
door 
I 
hear 
the 
sound 
of 
many 
marching 
feet,as 
II 
Para 
make 
their 
presence 
felt 
upon 
a 
Belfast 
street,  
Gerry 
Adams 
does 
a 
hard 
days 
graft 
and 
then 
its 
homeward 
bound,as 
a 
British 
soldier 
just 
nineteen 
lays 
bleeding 
on 
the 
ground,
Well 
he 
fought 
for 
Queen 
and 
country 
so 
it 
comes 
as 
no 
surprise,as 
he 
draws 
his 
last 
breath,says 
a 
prayer 
and 
there 
a 
hero 
dies,
So 
many 
slain 
civilians 
they're 
just 
casualties 
of 
war,do 
the 
f*ckers 
even 
realise 
what 
it 
is 
they're 
fighting 
for?
Or 
has 
the 
whole 
point 
of 
it 
got 
lost 
in 
the 
mists 
of 
time,the 
I'R'A 
take 
credit 
for 
their 
latest 
deadly 
crime,
In 
a 
safehouse 
miles 
from 
nowhere 
there's 
three 
loyalists 
lying 
dead,one 
in 
a 
grave 
(he 
was 
buried 
alive)and 
two 
with 
one 
straight 
through 
the 
head,
But 
the 
score 
it 
was 
even 
before 
the 
cock 
crowed,three 
Catholic 
civilians 
were 
slain,  
And 
there's 
rumours 
of 
vengence 
and 
fights 
to 
the 
death,and 
calls 
to 
keep 
calm 
from 
Sinn 
Fein,
As 
politicians 
armed 
with 
pens 
sit 
counting 
up 
lost 
lives,the 
Ulster 
Paramilitary 
sit 
sharpening 
their 
knives,
And 
loading 
slugs 
into 
the 
clip 
of 
some 
dead 
soldiers 
gun,"Come 
on 
now 
lads 
there's 
dirty 
deeds 
still 
waiting 
to 
be 
done,
In 
Londonderry,County 
Down,in 
Belfast,Newry 
too,the 
Catholics 
and 
the 
protestants 
keep 
Ireland 
torn 
in 
two,
As 
children 
grow 
up 
in 
the 
shadow 
of 
fear,there's 
a 
stench 
of 
death 
and 
bloodshed 
here,
So 
you 
with 
the 
power 
to 
give 
us 
the 
chance,lets 
find 
a 
solution 
and 
finish 
the 
dance,
Give 
Ireland 
back 
to 
the 
Irish...please!
or 
bring 
the 
whole 
damned 
nation 
crashing 
down 
to 
its 
knees.

Premium Member Sinn Fein Traitors

No longer do they represent or even come close to Catholic values 
they turn their back on those of us held loyal 
with spiritual morals unable to address it as is
 
Murder to stand and promote supporting such an act cardinal sin 
They no longer are a republican party lets straighten that point up
beginning and end as they have removed freedom from their banner 

Death it comes with a price where history will speak of this treachery 
turning against the law of God passed on to us by Patrick 
they are the new age occult rising pagans against the cross

The Love She Needs

I can't believe
Just to think
How we bounced 
Like springs
Puts a smile
On my cheeks
No jewel not a thing
Diamond rings 
so unique
Your eyes when
u look at Me
I just fall 
I'm free
When You 
look at me
I can't breath
just Brings me
to my knees
Your my everything
My kingdoms queen
And if it's not obscene
You be the drug
I Fein for the thing
That lingers like 
A needle sting
I just can't stop
You the one who stopped
My ships sinkin
Thinking of you and
Baby you saved me 
From an 
early grave see
And I just don't know
Any other way
To repay the day
You graced me with 
Your face 
we kiss
It was rivers raging
Fires flaming
Yes 
Addiction has staind
Me 
so I know if
I'm not the
Same me
I'm the blame
See 
Of the things
I knew the dangers fro
Never talked to strangers
But now we have 
Been tainted 
Like a disease
So tell me if not
Maybe we'll see
Ultimately
My baby
my wife
My life
the flame 
the light
The igniter 
to strike
Desire
In my soul
My souls fire
the only
Thing that 
makes me higher
I'm inspired 
by a designer
I've grown tired
Of her crying
Tears like creeks
So please 
Let me
be a shoulder
For when 
she's weak
A blanket of love
to hold her
When she sleeps
The tears on her pillow
When she wheeps
Sleepin I'll be the hero 
Her saves her in her dreams 
Let me Kiss her cheeks
When she's lonely 
and needs the company
I'll be a light 
to her path
In the dark streets 
when she's alone 
Make me everything
shell need
If she ever seen
bad things
Give em to me
n fill Her dreams 
with clean 
I'm pleadin 
take away
her demons
Theres 5000 reasons 
why I'm 
Pleading 
She's everything I've 
Wanted seen
or Ever needed
For her Ill bleed  
Pints gallons streams.

Premium Member Without Your Love

Without Your Love

Without your love, my life
I feign would ebb away.
Without you love, that
kindled flame of passion’s fire,
would turn to ashes cold and gray.

Without your love, my heart
grows cold, my feelings dead.
Without your love, those moments
when we chance to meet,
would change from happiness to dread.

Without your love
these eyes these lips so lonely pout.
Without your love to free my
lonely spirit from it’s hideaway.
To ride kindred spirit, seeking it’s way out.  
  Charles Grady Henderson
    May 13, 2020

Free Us

Free as the independent  woman that raised us 
Don’t believe in every story 
Allegories & fables
Fast for mournings ,Now I’m unplugged from the matrix 
I once seen great things come to me When I’m humble & patient 
Die young live fast ima hustler baby 
Enlightened a fein about my dreams , But they just customers craving

I’m in love with the planet ,But I enjoy a comfortable spaceship
Green like marine corps beside Oliver North  
Olive oil every pocket got multiply copies of corpse 
Every slave visioned days of riding a horse 
So I Kill for my freedom with no kind of remorse 

The evening sun enhance my melanin 
I embrace my new journey with everything i got within 
As nights get dark I remember The police are not our friends

Final

Yeah throw signs
My signature my name
Thumb prints and a picture
Nothing to claim
Feeling sain for a lil bit
You feel the same money better then gutter change and gum you spit
Under achevied my life ended with guts and spleins Fein for me drastically incomplete
Life and death what we all seek
Take a peek I still haven't reached my peak
Still trying find light when it's a dark night
Outlined figures sneaky but don't wanna fight

Every sigh like stepn on a sticker
It a fling a flick that don't stick
Just a quick pic slang talk dope talk
Lol wink face gun shot
Doctor fix this
Sicko mode 
Pm am lose mind
Gram 3.2 for sold
Got the hook cause g-code
Till you get your fix
So fresh like a alpine 
Hanging from your mirror
Like  a crusifix 
I'm fine Superior

The Question

I've asked this question before,
but I'm going to ask it once more,
If religion is right and your God has the might,
where is the need to bicker and fight?

How strong is the faith you subscribe to,
if it's strong then it needs no defence,
If the message it sends is divine,
it will be seen as being sublime.

If someone insults you, don’t be so intense,
To feel you should kill him, it doesn't make sense,
And God, in his wisdom, will not take the blame,
For you using his name, in the killing game.

You cannot be more insulting to God,
than to take a life, that he has created,
For religion's sake, is the excuse that you make,
but that is just belated.

And we both know, that man is dead,
Because, he is someone you hated,
If religion espouses hatred and death,
those doctrines came not, from God's sweet breath.
 
Has religion represented God well on earth,
The Creator of all, since man's first birth?
Well Cromwell Massacred the Irish,
sinn fein killed 3000 up north,

In Gujarat, many Muslims were killed,
by Hindus I think you will find,
The Armenians were slaughtered by Turkish forces,
At the time, no one seemed to mind.

The biggest massacre the holocaust,
should never ever be forgotten,
Or else mankind is condemned to be,
forever truly rotten,

And it is from those who survived,
That a nation in hope, was derived.
If that hope can be shared for the good,
And all aspirations are mutually understood.

Then the hopes of a people who are just like you,
And if  for a moment, you balance  all points of view.
The Palestinian aspirations are easy to see,
they Just want control of their own destiny.

How Deep Is Love Vixen

This feeling buried under my skin when love hits me makes me itch like a fein for 
dope I dont know how to explain the things that love will have you doing 
somethings become to deep so I ask my self how deep is love some times it can 
have you on a cloud like your floating so easy to bring you down like walls in a 
building being demolished so what can love bring you in this world but pain mistrust 
jealousy and hate but they say love is like chocolate sweet rich good satisfying or 
could it be me as I watch those in love hold hands dancing to the tunes that loving 
someone brings their soul are satisfied their smiles reveal love their laughs reveal 
lust so I again ask myself is it me maybe those who have tried to love me I have 
broken them to the point that love didnt matter anymore am I that blind that I cant 
see love in front of me tyrone said loving me was harder than predicting the 
weather laughing as I dug deeper into his soul eating his love feeding my lust with 
his feelings so how deep is love deeper then I have been digging detroying lives as 
I moved on to the next playing as I loved to love those who were loving me they 
were blind to see the vixen as she came to seek and detroy love so how deep is 
love I use to believe love was a gift but to love does not mean love I AM the VIXEN 
OF LOVE I AM the VIXEN OF LUST I love to lust AND LUST LOVES TO LOVE ME WE ARE 
ONE thats how deep my love goes 

CARMALITA

My Pacifier

The cold and the shakes are coming back 
And I know it's about that time. 
I slide the needle in and I'm on track
Because the sense of peace is sublime. 

My bank account is in the red,
And my supply has already run out. 
I know I won't stop until I'm dead
Because the need is a constant shout. 

Falling on hard times is what I fein
As I panhandle for your change. 
I need it flowing in my vein,
Or else my mind will derange. 

Itching for another hit
Panic sets in
Will I get it?
Will I ever win?

Finally I have enough for now,
But I will always need more. 
To its call I will forever bow
Because without it, I'd fall to the floor. (3)
© Joe Smith  Create an image from this poem.

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