From bathroom pipes, kitchen sinks
From inside cabinets, drain and sewer points
The cockroach approaches in a flash of time.
Once sighted, woman gets scared and yelp
A chance for the brave husband to help
And to flaunt his bravery and might.
Seizes the broom sitting at the corner
When the brave man comes with the broom
The sly cockroach is already lost from sight
The brave man hits at every nook and corner
Misses the target, and the mission to kill, fails
Leaves his wife in utter despair and anger.
Finds the pest below the cot and hits it hard
The cockroach struggled but did not die
Broom snaps, pest flees without a trace
Nastiest pest, nocturnal in habit
The insect at its best at night
Rarely surfaces in broad daylight
Finds escape routes to hide from sight.
The insect loves and lives in grime and filth
Ill at ease in open space and broad daylight
Always in hiding and retreating to dark
Pale tan , reddish brown, glossy dark to black
Shades of repulsive colours, gross to look
Notorious for infestations and spreads diseases
Now hogging limelight in media discourse.
Natalia was in charge of the Gothic Nutcracker Ballet
It was held in the darkest, dankest, nastiest alley way
The mice came out to trot around without their soldier suits
Feral cats pranced around the production, tummies full of toots
The Gothic Nutcracker, how marvelous, a few old ladies said
We love it too, remarked the vampires and others, all undead
This ballet is not attended by just anyone, invitation only you see
You are not invited unless you drink some spider eyeball tea.
deep in the depths of London, off the A35 trunk route
there lived a wayward entity with the nastiest intentions
A carnivore who ate wriggling squiggling prey
She lived on the borderline of insanity and madness
Her ancestors had lived dank, dark, dreary lives
Secrets promenaded in their family in starts and stops
Because they were wooly, wild, and winsome
Being werewolves also might have entered into it
She was a she-were, the most dangerous, devious werewolf
Most women can control urges, she prioritizes her primality
on Halloween eve she sits in the comfort of Algorith Alley
frightening the rats, who scurry and scatter in fear
There are a few seconds when the moon dies on Halloween
a few precious seconds when this she-were can strike
her ferocious fangs shred shrieking subjects with precision
Madness? Why? Because she leaves carnage after she dines?
A Nasty Germ*
A nasty germ is what I am,
a curse to every man and woman.
I lie in wait with strategy
to bring you down to misery.
I’m at my nastiest on the weekend
when I land you bedridden
with round the clock medication
which you take with detestation.
But take courage, hope’s dawning –
I’m gone by Monday morning.
*(Based on my rendering of Christian Morgenstern’s
poem Der Schnupfen (The Sniffle)
Bunkers Bonkers
(we are our own archie enemy)
The nastiest fiction
has come to fruition
The cautionary tales
have tipped all the scales
The global minority
has declared their authority
The white man is God
and humanity is fraud
For Arthur
Who wants my spell book? Whisker witch asked her grands.
It was a mystical book held together by large rubber bands.
This book was different because it chastised your efforts to create and bake.
Calling you mean names like “loser, ignoramus, and stupid mandrake".
I will take it said her sister, who had grown up with the book.
The witch gave her the most horrible, awful, nastiest look.
The spell book picked up on Whisker witch’s cue.
And began calling her names that turned the air blue.
That’s okay, the sister said, holding back her tears.
As the spell book called gave her a raspberry among the jeers.
One of the grands grabbed it up and threw it into the fire.
Take that! She said, and we all clapped, her bravery glad to admire.
There is a food I hate to eat,
I hate it in my mouth
it taste like slime in my mouth,
the nastiest food on earth!
Oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
the nastiest food on earth!
It has a flower on its top,
and grows in the garden dirt,
it looks like a small cylinder
upon a pretty plant stalk.
Oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
the nastiest food on earth!
Its slimy when it gets cooked,
and slimy when its baked,
it taste like yuck in my mouth
the yuckiest food on earth!
Oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
the nastiest food on earth!
Oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
oh how I hate okra,
the nastiest food on earth!
Tangled shackles ,
finite spaces.
From life to end,
One hope in the eyes,
To meet infinite ways.
The needs and the breads.....
We only care.
Who constantly stare....
Seeking liberation.
Times facing nastiest sunlights
And the human who frights!.....
Me,you,is we all stand accountable.
Will take a lot grit!
To free the spirit...
The day will come....
The day will come.
A facility he had not used
But about it already enthused:
A not funny challenging toilet,
Water needing like Pontus Pilate:
Just to climb it effusive pride bruised
And when one was through with it still mused
Twelve litres of water when not late:
What one might be right to tag Plain Fate
The wildest cats would towards its slouch,
The wildest man on it limply crouch;
Not a convenience you'd for it vouch,
Found faults in the nastiest language crouch.
Fancy the reasons why love is so elusive
Could be we don’t know what we look for,
Feelings that with love are not conducive
Strange so many do not know the score
Looking for love “in all the wrong places,”
Confusing true love with an infatuation,
Equating it with beautiful or perfect faces
Often can lead to the nastiest situations.
Generally, love requires time to mature
Knowing yourself and your expectations,
Commitment in love is not for the unsure
I say, always beware of those hesitations.
Work toward a relationship that is secure,
I'm convinced that true love will endure.
Written August 20, 2022
Once there was a hideous troll,
With a broken nose made out of gold,
A glistening complexion, oily slick,
And scrappy hair that was made of sticks!
The Knights were sent on a mission,
To rid the Kingdom of this vision.
But she possessed a magical spell,
That would send her enchroachers straight to hell!
An army of fairies would join the fight,
To cleanse this Earth of such a fright, to make her right!
They would cover the beast with pixie dust,
Where the sticks would break and the untaintable metal would rust.
A princess to be was their goal,
But her black heart persisted; this gnarly troll.
All help they gave her, even rehearsed,
Simply made her ugliness worse!
Eventually, they would let her be,
Hidden in darkness by the nastiest of trees!
Arjuna, a grand warrior, well habited to,
Fight against nastiest of warrior crew;
Finds himself faced with kith and kin
To fight a war, hence, he fears within;
Dilemma-filled he calls out to God,
God hears him and hurries to his aid;
Erasing the doubts shrouding him,
He bids him his duties to perform;
Duty of a warrior is fighting, he says,
Not ever thinking of victory of loss;
Pleasure or pain or victory or defeat
Reckon on actions with no deceit;
Fighting against inner inclinations,
Demeanors, evil desires, illusions;
Losing all that’s imperfection within,
Combating to gain the life’s soul win;
Knowledge combined with love is ideal,
Action and no inaction – must be real;
Doing duties with no fruit expectance,
Must be the pursuit of human existence;
Though it may not be always possible,
Striving towards it is, indeed, feasible...
05 July 2021
Guess what the nastiest bird is
Vultures comes up in every search
No question at all
Their prey they maul
Rip the flesh off their latest serving
We have to the end of life tipped on toes,
Edged loose to a pit of posed depth.
Goes us that of fear froze to death,
Knowing not that is left of those,
Edged back on plains of glows.
Goes us that leapt but survived on throws,
On undefined found in depth of hopes,
And knowing not that is besides of,
Them fallen, deeper into lower of.
Posed on the remains of them gone,
Lowered to levels from all hidden,
The nastiest of us dancing pairs,
Realize not the leaps taken,
From there edges broken.
We are to the beginning of life for a cycle,
Glued tighter to a look at them high above,
Waits for falls of all posed on edges gone,
Knowing not that us fallen is us on wait,
The fallen, earlier into lower of them.
4th April 2020
By Hudhaifah Siyad Mohamed
If you step on someone's foot, they open their mouth
Just like a garbage can but an oral outburst they arouse
Nastiest ever known
Quite an angry tone
“Watch where you're going you stupid old cow!”
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