At least it wasn’t you

Culturally modified verses by Leila Samarrai as an allusion to the growing importance of misandric non – autohomophobic non-feminist females in the love or sort of.. relationships of women today who embrace them with joy and exaltation, as well as their dreams of a strict matriarchy and a misandric society! The poem probably came about after the disappointment of the Sappho –  Hannover foundations’ support, which supports joint housing projects for two notorious lesbians.

lyrics: Between females

soundtrack: Greek / Roman Music – Organographia VI



longing for [the girl] friend’s embrace/and between females


longing for [the] friend’s embrace


the way I hate when men many dedicate a poem to me

there is something aforesaid in this, foreshadowing.. unnatural with regard to excessive polishing of swords

for sacrifice, sheep slain of copper

Covered with roast beef

hard and black and dead

whatever this Bovinity meant to say to me

there may be something Beef noodles in there

at times plaster and bovine hair of  a

Erebus locus of all the

scuffle of

my 42 sternward nudities (run sprung unstrung wrung

bursting to light across my desolate shore, but still I

shrunk and run and brunt recording beef smile and

Boast of the grief (very occasionally journeying a roar)

he saw me not borgne Chelbt the Necessity of what is


Lo! of hundreds who fuck trampling female


bestowed a right to the portion

of a camel

algebraic hécatombe  Bearing a pack of

quiescent Venus clay

out  budding what a sweet creature

she has sweet prehistoric uvula Arabian Serbian

bud, fuzz grows above sweat glands, sweet odour

let’s..  then,, Zéphir s’ et le présage Faire crac-crac

niqer sauter…

out Se masturber, se branler en face..out en face


out en face merrily did we drop a sort of

Merrily did we drop a sort of incandescent beef

who will kill and eat

And between females means….



And between females

yoking through your half-moon of the pond

Beyond  Cyrene, beyond the throne of snares

Beyond Atalanta and moon hills

of the chariot, you came, fell weak tugs

and my delicious back

with her knife swells with the desire of betray


My want dives silky hair

Is glistening

The straining immortal kisses

Of the toxic breed of my betrayal friend

In the arms of  Hypatia gender

bronze-tipped javelin, wild breast on the battlefield

a sentient being,  a huntress companion and swore to remain unwed

to a heart in sweet tine


although she be of purple impressing flowers

rounded gently breasts strewed upon the trampled gilly


And grass between her legs bringing me a cloth.

Drops of water fell

stay here, here is my tomb, a real pint

is not only perdu, my darling, but perdu and perdu and perdu.




Have you not.


A long live hatred

O long-lived one

Hatred my life your/mine levedy love is that I hate

By the knives of circumstance,

And the last sacred backstabbing

In enchanted mourner’s bloom

But shall a gate of red fire tomb fall aside

Or have you not, sedulously full fifty filthy dull dull

Mots, same as beef, Beefinity, as merry as the

Sunrises between the devil’s horns

Have you not.


and what in my secret old shrine will happen

pipes the dithyrambs

and grieving serene

I am still grieved you sorely on my shore

Ere the lifeboat serene long

Add it to and long que doas domnas

A sicknesse, that may be hele

Phisicien, a matineuse aurora

a flail a




I hate your womanly love above all else

My disgust and despair led

My heart to the harvest of hunger.

Chacun retrouve les peines

Death companion newer still

as we parted for the canopy for eternity



…the ugliest…


Even a man’s footprints of beef.


At least I shall know it wasn’t you.

It wasn’t you, harridan

It wasn’t you.

to a man who has upset my dream.

to a man who has upset my dream.

You’re a harasser
just like Gurdjieff, Buddha or Jesus
You’re disturbing my dormancy
You dig in my inner composure
Whoever upsets our sleepiness, we will disperse them
(I want to hurt you..)
The dream was “so wonderful”.
The Dream can be beautiful,
and I do not have to be wonderful,
but one thing is certain:
It’s a dream, an outspoken, useless!


Copyright © 2019 by Leila Samarrai Mehdi

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