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Nida Mahmoed Mar 2022
Everything starts from a Mother,
Feminine energy,
Energy; has the power to give
first home to a child,
A sense of security and
a sense of peace,
And a hope to breathe and grow,
And everything ends on a Mother,
A soil,
A mother to open itself to embrace
you' when you say
goodbye to this world,
Embrace your feminine energy,
And lead your life with confidence
and strength,
Because you are a woman,
A woman of Courage,
Strength and Love.
Nida Mahmoed Mar 2022
I am a Woman:

My skin melted in moonlight into grim of the darkness of night,
My hair sewed a meadow’s wildflowers,
That's how a woman created in me'
with blood divine,

I am a woman' strong and at the same time soft,
I am more like a pure wine of heaven,

Through dew, the spark of life arrowed in,
Giving birth to the wildwood adored skin,

Delphinium vivid petals of spring late,
With flagrant red roses; coloring my lips,

My eyes carry the dreams of poetry,
hopes of songs,
and music of joy,

An existence where I would live with pure me,
Where I would dance with my **** truths,
Play the drama of mystery,
And audience and stage all are for me,

Gathered to listen to me,
To see me play all drama and dance in between of drama,

I wrought the hair of my drenched in the psalm,
Enchanting with dark godly melodies of mine,
Braiding light with sorrows that, there, were.

The breeze from the voided air,
To embroider something, while reciting a prayer,
And dizzily, I fabricated a soul for the mud,

I inhaled, in awe and feel the life,
I am the words in a poem, ready to rhyme,

Yes, I am a woman,
Enough to feel the entire universe within the word of Woman,

My light reflected on my broken pieces,
The rays shaped a tree of wicked caprices,
Where my fantasies grow,

However, I am my own little beautiful creation,
And this reality is my hunger’s innovation.
The reality we all share,
Yet what deep is, makes my reality whole.
Nida Mahmoed Aug 2021
I love Karachi,
not just because'
this city has allowed to'
my grandparents and'
than my parents to'
make their homes here,
but her sky,
moon, sun, air,
ocean and soil are'
breathing in me as a love,
Love is name of a feeling,
where you would try to leave'
that place or a person,
but more you try,
more you feel home'
within them,
As same I do feel with Karachi.

-Nida Mahmoed
Nida Mahmoed Oct 2020
Home Body,
Rolling on the bed while rapping in the bedsheet,
I want to dress,
But inner storms' Floating me far,
Where I find too hard to feel again in a home,
At home, where I can dance naked,
And embrace me utterly,
My body is my home,
I feel the real me behind its wall,
All storms are mine,
I want to nourish this home again,
And bud the Rose's in a **** soil,
And I have to close all the windows'
In the gray clouds!

- Nida Mahmoed
#mentalhealth #mentalhealthcare #home #homebody #body #**** #mentalhealthawarness
Nida Mahmoed Jun 2020
I am a woman of the ocean,
You cannot break me,
But can drown in me.

-Nida Mahmoed
Nida Mahmoed May 2020
He brings poetry to the darkness
Growing inside and ignites the light
It's a beautiful sight,
Watching the dark deep night
Sleeping, embracing the moonlight
So close, so tight,

He brings winds inside my soul,
He was pure magic in black art,
He was sitting on a swinging chair
Gazing me
In drowning all the darkness
Deep inside my heart,
He brings a full moon to make love
From soul to soul
and heart to heart.
-Nida Mahmoed
Nida Mahmoed Mar 2019
Let’s meet with my forlornness,
I have named mine forlornness as “Sunflower”,
We overlooked it at a coffee shop the previous evening,
When our eyes meet, it grew two wings and kept flew away,
And a seed of depression “Asparagus” budding deeper in my heart,
Sunflower and I, none had an idea to spell it right,
Yet you don't abandon it,
I keep a pocket word reference’
to name everybody's forlornness right,
But I am not able to smell the fragrance of their forlornness
and how could I? Because you can’t name the other’s forlornness,
I sometimes prefer to take a purple knife,
And cut the roots of “a Sunflower” forever and ever
but I wonder if I really killed the sunflower with a purple knife,
so there have any feelings left in me?
I wonder, there has anybody whose forlornness’
match with mine and our forlornness does not need of the purple knife’
to ****, but a need of the hug of affection to bud the roses of happiness’
within us!

By; Nida Mahmoed
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