It is usual, Somalis have nothing to talk or discuss except dacaayad. No abstract art to entertain them or classic commedy. Their commedy is dacaayad. They've no other knowledge but to pick on others They don't mean harm, it is just the way they are!

LoL bush... I am affraid that was your inbox hehehe

No comment

Nuune lol waryaa ma layaab baa hadaan tageero Arsenal? Almost half of London are gooners. You come to west-london and see how loyal xitaa somalis are to arsenal. Boloh boloh ... sxb arsenal la'aanteed abaar waaaye

There is a freedom of speech for every nomad in this site. That is, as long as, no insults or personal attacks are involved. As i can see here, there are no insults whatsoever, just election reports. This thread is dedicated to Somaliland, if it bothers anyone then they shouldn't bother reading or replying it.

My sister! your poem is moving and questioning. But thankx for sharing it with us.

Damn! what a poem. MsWorld, girl this poem talks to us deeper than deep. It serves as a warning!

Honest, decent sister. Those are my preference.

That is so true, jamela. It is a questions I ask myself too.

deep indeed. Nuna, we're all afraid of love in some stages of our life. We ask ourselves, "what if this love is not true?" or "How can someone love me coz they don't even know me!" ...But hey, it is life and everything is possible. Keep up the poetry nuna ..

alexus_orjustice .. first of all welcome to Somalia Online and enjoy yourself. Secondly, Nice peace of poetry. It only takes trials to get creative composition going.

Hodann ... Every instance of life is a lesson. So my suggestion is to move on from this bitter experiance. Coz life goes on....no matter what happens. Good luck

Another Day In Paradise (Collins) She calls out to the man on the street "Sir, can you help me? It's cold and I've nowhere to sleep, Is there somewhere you can tell me?" He walks on, doesn't look back He pretends he can't hear her Starts to whistle as he crosses the street Seems embarrassed to be there Oh think twice, it's another day for You and me in paradise Oh think twice, it's just another day for you, You and me in paradise She calls out to the man on the street He can see she's been crying She's got blisters on the soles of her feet Can't walk but she's trying Oh think twice... Oh lord, is there nothing more anybody can do Oh lord, there must be something you can say You can tell from the lines on her face You can see that she's been there Probably been moved on from every place 'Cos she didn't fit in there Oh think twice...

Gentlemen, you are either with ARSENAL or with the terorrists. There is no middle-way Gooners till I die!

They say, a man's promise and secret is well kept intact and fulfilled with the help of a woman. A woman who seeks pleasure in strengthening his weakness, tieing up all his loose ends left undone by long hard days' work. Certainly I hadn't been so lucky to find such a valuable companion to share and cherish my happy and not-so-sunny memories with. But it would have become such a bliss if that night I walked arm in arm with a lady as beautiful as Ameenah, Barwaaqo,Muna or the guest lady from cardif through the artistically decorated walls and intentfully set marble floors. In fact I walked into this magnificent hilton hotel without any living company, except for a red gift pack I had been entrusted to deliver to the bride and groom. The gift was from Lady Kamila. I must admit, I have walked into the ceremonial hall-way while celebrations were well under-way. The second I inhaled the ooze of perfume coming from the festive crowd, my attention was smeared by a man who, to be precise, wore a shimmering three piece suit that seemed like the one won my Travolta in the days of 'do the hussle' . He was indeed a chap, whom methought charmingly swayed aforth to the enchanting music that occassionally escaped through the opening doors where entertainers stood ground. Minutes into my conversation with him, a pretty looking thang waved at me. But I didn't believe that the wave was directed at me and so methought she is waving at some other fellow. What I didn't realise at first was that the 'pretty young thang' was our legend Nomad girl Ameenah. I have seen her before on one or two ocassions but that night she looked dazzlingly beautiful. Beside her stood three other similarly gorgeous looking girls, Barwaaqo, Muna and a guest girl from Cardif. I wasn't sure if the girls I've seen were our Nomad girls, so searching I went for M.Ismaciil who could be sure if Ameenah is Ameenah even if she wears a victorian gown. My good friend Mohamed Ismaciil gave me assurance that I wasn't seeing pretty things in double vision. My work of introduction begun from there. But one thing that had made me alittle imobile was the big coat i wore, a friend remarked "Man! you look like one of the local dealers, or detective moss", after hearing that remarked I decided to lighten up the load of my clothing and became minus the big coat. There were two blocs of people. One bloc was the boys who stood to the left and the second was the girls who stood to the right. I had to put up a brave face and introduce the girls to the boys though some of the them knew each other already. We took on corner of the hall-way and gathered, creating a circle of SOL users and friends. There was sophist, London_lad, Ameenah, Barwaaqo, Muna, Jabarti, Leamante, Yacquub (who impressingly wore a shirt that i added to my next shopping list), Shujui (this fellow is cool - i tell you), Rookie_of_the_Year, Mobb-deep and others whom I don't recall their nicks. We conversed, joked, laughed together and wondered at how we all looked different comparative to our online nicknames. While we talked in that circle, I was also on the phone directing my dear friend Shaqsii, telling him "What are u doing in East-end man! the place is Paddington!.", on the other hand entertaining charlie's angels (the girls) hoping for Shaqsii to come on time before the ladies leave for Cabdiqadir Jubba's ruwaayad (God! girls love this man, no wonder they call him willka-sanadka every-year). Although the ceremony itself was well entertained by my fav'rite singers, it seemed the girls still wanted to go to jubba. Shaqsii came 10 minutes after they were gone. Dressed like a man on a mission to moscow, he staggered in after a long wait. He looked more of a door-man, but wore a smile on his face that said .."Oki Doki! these place is full of pretty girls".... Shaqsii sxb continue from there....... PS: Sorry fella I have been away for a while... journey

I just wonna settle down with A LOVING xaliimo. Thats all i can think of. Oh yeah I almost forgot to mention this. I wonna retire from the net when my posts reach 1000. Then come back when the second nomad reaches 1000.

NARC rainbow won the elections. Now lets see what different they'll make for the ordinary kenyans. Mr Kibaki is officially the third president of Kenya since independence..... we are on....

Ladiif thankx sxb. Walaahi both poets are regarded to be the best poets of Somalia. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- If dreams are, why is life not? Can life be like a dream that comes late at night, Sawn inseparable within a silent dreamy night, That makes even the wise night owl fall asleep, Which makes the passion of lust run extreme? That if erotic beauty and sensual talk inhibits a sleep, Or an untrue joy is gained though it is difficult to keep, Will life say true to those of us who are dreamers, That a dream can answer the questions of inner desires? I know a dream's perfect world has no prejudice, And that every lover is one as every dreamer is wise. It is a world of no cultural war or Ku Klux Klan, Neither is there racial war, nation of Islam or even Khan; But why does such beauty and purity fade away, When dawn starts to give birth to a broad daylight? Why does hate or disgrace always find its wicked way? If love is meant to render our life with delight

loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooool heheheheehehehe Sadam is spamming your inbox

Thinking? Baby thats a significant sign of love! I'll pray for you honey

I want to spend my life you with Seriously I do That man whom you seriously want to spend life with is a lucky one.

The poem is a good way of letting him know that you have a crush on him.... maybe you should send it to him as a e-mail. Thanks for sharing it with us...

Nuna..... That was good sis .... If you like everything about him Maybe he likes everything about you And sometimes to liking is better than loving Coz the liking never ends like the loving

Nuna.... Thanks abaayo for your support. Insha-allaah I will let you know when I start doing this job. I haven't had enough time these days thats why I haven't done anything about it. Thanks walaashiis

Nuna darling ... thank you very much ...