#culturalheritage - Hello Poetry

Pi, at the end of its endless decimals' grandeur, meets a human being—who holds a mirror! Until now, the number, knowing only sway, has been lost in discovery’s polished way. No more: it begins—on a human—in front of its eye. Patterns and unique precision, patternless waves, new math tides soar, pivot at the cosmos' height, only to bag the ultimate truth: Fathima—the first spiritual woman—mooned there first! Fathima steps forward where nature falls behind, across the dead end, the irrational chasm she strides. For the cosmos' deep mind, Earth, the ocean is but a drop; the rope to the top is the lead—the feminine Fathima’s lock! Raw Fathima moves; in shadow, nature follows, clustering atoms span between the two, only to witness her encrypted, secured fashion— intact, uncharted, yet fully functioning, in Makkah and Medina, while she lived. The red fairies at midday’s spot-on, the black swans arching rainbows in wonder— marvel how Fathima deduces, straw by straw, the maestros’ dream of ascension, potion-polished, taking Ma pauses in liminal crescendos, between past and future, here and hereafter—a circular duo. Limning out chiaroscuro in light and shadow— nothing like it exists, in plain sight or the world in toto! Rainbows shaded in, sparking out, the scent of roses in her veiled black hair: the cosmos anew glinting off her edge, deeper quintessence than dark matter! The blueprint, the intelligent pre-design, rests in her elements. The breakthrough exponent—hidden in her eyes. Yet beyond the masses’ gaze, she remains Zahra—light upon the original way. Truly, only one feminine form has reached across the other end of the cosmos' endless highway, zooming past nature’s hidden gems—the irrational Pi, the complex chasm—a mathematical goldmine. Beyond the masses’ eyes and their painted canvases, shine the daylight and the glowing fireflies of the night. Viva Mankind! Fathima is the Moon at the highest high!

0

Apr 25, 2025

Apr 25, 2025 at 9:58 PM UTC

shofi-ahmed

Fathima The First Spiritual Woman & Shadow Nature

Pi, at the end of its endless decimals' grandeur, meets a human being—who holds a mirror! Until now, the number, knowing only sway, has been lost in discovery’s polished way. No more: it begins—on a human—in front of its eye. Patterns and unique precision, patternless waves, new math tides soar, pivot at the cosmos' height, only to bag the ultimate truth: Fathima—the first spiritual woman—mooned there first! Fathima steps forward where nature falls behind, across the dead end, the irrational chasm she strides. For the cosmos' deep mind, Earth, the ocean is but a drop; the rope to the top is the lead—the feminine Fathima’s lock! Raw Fathima moves; in shadow, nature follows, clustering atoms span between the two, only to witness her encrypted, secured fashion— intact, uncharted, yet fully functioning, in Makkah and Medina, while she lived. The red fairies at midday’s spot-on, the black swans arching rainbows in wonder— marvel how Fathima deduces, straw by straw, the maestros’ dream of ascension, potion-polished, taking Ma pauses in liminal crescendos, between past and future, here and hereafter—a circular duo. Limning out chiaroscuro in light and shadow— nothing like it exists, in plain sight or the world in toto! Rainbows shaded in, sparking out, the scent of roses in her veiled black hair: the cosmos anew glinting off her edge, deeper quintessence than dark matter! The blueprint, the intelligent pre-design, rests in her elements. The breakthrough exponent—hidden in her eyes. Yet beyond the masses’ gaze, she remains Zahra—light upon the original way. Truly, only one feminine form has reached across the other end of the cosmos' endless highway, zooming past nature’s hidden gems—the irrational Pi, the complex chasm—a mathematical goldmine. Beyond the masses’ eyes and their painted canvases, shine the daylight and the glowing fireflies of the night. Viva Mankind! Fathima is the Moon at the highest high!

41

Outside native shore where distant relatives come from Mountainous hills looked like folds of crashing tide Grooving trees danced to the rhythm of ancestral drum Woodcraft countenance of a beast appeared, faces run to hide Metal gutting through air like the reek of some fermented spirit All shivering bones must heed to this mystic call of resonance And should one ignore those small alarming bells; waist-tied to this trigger happy grit Only vicious death 'll bid victim farewell in any horrifying state of happenstance We should have set forth at dawn; long before the eve of a looming Caesar's day Lest we meet dangling blade at the crossroads handheld by bitumen-drenched ****** from southeast But as daylight covered herself with a blanket of gathered thick clouds of may The land's celebration of silence was ruined with the marching ankle-bells of the masked beast Cultures are birthed like the plethora skins of an onion Smearing our visions with this spiritual sogginess of something rooted and cruel We have always known masquerade brandishing a stick stripped from tall bamboo straws; to be seen as a merriment minion And not this awful glare at its wake, needing mask spray from mouth-spitting gin, perhaps; to aggravate horror of a burning fuel We have heard rumors of their king's weaning breathe Perhaps; mere travelers' souls should be spared from unforeseen burial rites For our supplication of a thousand lives shall go to mend his majesty's health So we may leave the festival behind with great hastiness and mights

0

Aug 12, 2024

Aug 12, 2024 at 9:10 AM UTC

poeticameen

Masquerade wielding a machete

Outside native shore where distant relatives come from Mountainous hills looked like folds of crashing tide Grooving trees danced to the rhythm of ancestral drum Woodcraft countenance of a beast appeared, faces run to hide Metal gutting through air like the reek of some fermented spirit All shivering bones must heed to this mystic call of resonance And should one ignore those small alarming bells; waist-tied to this trigger happy grit Only vicious death 'll bid victim farewell in any horrifying state of happenstance We should have set forth at dawn; long before the eve of a looming Caesar's day Lest we meet dangling blade at the crossroads handheld by bitumen-drenched ****** from southeast But as daylight covered herself with a blanket of gathered thick clouds of may The land's celebration of silence was ruined with the marching ankle-bells of the masked beast Cultures are birthed like the plethora skins of an onion Smearing our visions with this spiritual sogginess of something rooted and cruel We have always known masquerade brandishing a stick stripped from tall bamboo straws; to be seen as a merriment minion And not this awful glare at its wake, needing mask spray from mouth-spitting gin, perhaps; to aggravate horror of a burning fuel We have heard rumors of their king's weaning breathe Perhaps; mere travelers' souls should be spared from unforeseen burial rites For our supplication of a thousand lives shall go to mend his majesty's health So we may leave the festival behind with great hastiness and mights

20

========== क्या रखा है वक्त गँवाने औरों के आख्यान में, वर्तमान से वक्त बचा लो तुम निज के निर्माण में। ========== पूर्व अतीत की चर्चा कर क्या रखा गर्वित होने में? पुरखों के खड्गाघात जता क्या रखा हर्षित होने में? भुजा क्षीण तो फिर क्या रखा पुरावृत्त अभिमान में? वर्तमान से वक्त बचा लो तुम निज के निर्माण में। ========== कुछ परिजन के सुरमा होने से कुछ पल हीं बल मिलता, निज हाथों से उद्यम रचने पर अभिलाषित फल मिलता। करो कर्म या कल्प गवां उन परिजन के व्याख्यान में, वर्तमान से वक्त बचा लो तुम निज के निर्माण में। ========== दूजों से निज ध्यान हटा निज पे थोड़ा श्रम कर लेते, दूजे कर पाये जो कुछ भी क्या तुम वो ना वर लेते ? शक्ति, बुद्धि, मेधा, ऊर्जा ना कुछ कम परिमाण में। वर्तमान से वक्त बचा लो तुम निज के निर्माण में। ========== क्या रखा है वक्त गँवाने औरों के आख्यान में, वर्तमान से वक्त बचा लो तुम निज के निर्माण में। ========== अजय अमिताभ सुमन: सर्वाधिकार सुरक्षित

0

Jun 18, 2022

Jun 18, 2022 at 9:09 PM UTC

ajayamitabh7

वर्तमान से वक्त बचा लो तुम निज के निर्माण में [प्रथम भाग]

========== क्या रखा है वक्त गँवाने औरों के आख्यान में, वर्तमान से वक्त बचा लो तुम निज के निर्माण में। ========== पूर्व अतीत की चर्चा कर क्या रखा गर्वित होने में? पुरखों के खड्गाघात जता क्या रखा हर्षित होने में? भुजा क्षीण तो फिर क्या रखा पुरावृत्त अभिमान में? वर्तमान से वक्त बचा लो तुम निज के निर्माण में। ========== कुछ परिजन के सुरमा होने से कुछ पल हीं बल मिलता, निज हाथों से उद्यम रचने पर अभिलाषित फल मिलता। करो कर्म या कल्प गवां उन परिजन के व्याख्यान में, वर्तमान से वक्त बचा लो तुम निज के निर्माण में। ========== दूजों से निज ध्यान हटा निज पे थोड़ा श्रम कर लेते, दूजे कर पाये जो कुछ भी क्या तुम वो ना वर लेते ? शक्ति, बुद्धि, मेधा, ऊर्जा ना कुछ कम परिमाण में। वर्तमान से वक्त बचा लो तुम निज के निर्माण में। ========== क्या रखा है वक्त गँवाने औरों के आख्यान में, वर्तमान से वक्त बचा लो तुम निज के निर्माण में। ========== अजय अमिताभ सुमन: सर्वाधिकार सुरक्षित

40