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Shofi Ahmed Mar 2018
The material body was yet in the making
The first and foremost luminary feminine
ebb and flow heartily pans out
flawless flow to the finest angle.
Across the nadir to the zenith
Fathima eyes on upon it like it
shapes and forms are waxing lyrical:
The pure masterpiece without a mirror!

Arts on the go Fathima moves on.
Praise be to the Lord she being made
to measure inborn mathematical the pi is her!
(For the perfect circle the circumference is masculine
The pi tends to circle the blank space within is feminine)
She can budge equally in the shadow
in patternless pi decimals and in the open,
in integer into a whole full number!

Hops up her first step she looks for ‘the all’
the complete whole the absolute one Allah.
Time and again she steps up but finds no floor
Her measured step by default lays on 360-degree circle
Scans all things at the first go still finds no bottom!

The first luminary masculine peace be upon him
first looks in the open she takes the veiled angle.
Through the evermore pi decimal micro-hole
She looks on and witnesses the first water drop
surfaces up without a base without a roof on top!
It follows through truly the copy of the original
softly springing around the serene water paints  
of all the maters to be created from this first drop.
Fathima looks at it and veils withdraws her reflection.

It’s still remembered in the sky that follows suit.  
First, a star was born stepping in Fathima’s shoe.
It tried so did the full set of galaxy only to disperse
into a profound constellation never finds a bottom.
Cause amidst this water circle floats the first soil.
Allah called it His house that He first created from it.
Every planetary orb pilgrimage around it in the core
known as Ka’abah up to the heart of the earth it rose.

In the pre-designed world after the first masculine
the first feminine Fathima thus did the first pilgrimage.
She walked the walk did so in the patternless pi veil.

Nature is never uneven on the hidden hand of the pi.
Every little fraction, the small decimal does it count
connects to the dot without showing up a pattern!
Long live, long live the digital charisma is on the rise.

Retracing time and again the sun rises in the median lane,
yet the black box scores it's only a dark chart at the end of the day!
The Moon is yet to moon over an unturned sublunary-dip
It pulls all, the mighty sea that the earth can't
and sync in the feminine water cycle but save only one
with Fathima floating out of the box it can’t link up!

Like millions, ever wonder where Fathima’s grave is?
The earth strived too to the death bite to print her footprint!
Most of the mass visiting Medina look too see the grave of the holy lady Fathima. It has been a tradition since her death some fourteen hundred years ago. There are two graves where she is buried but which one is her is still unknown. Reportedly she wanted her grave to remain unidentified.
Shofi Ahmed Apr 2017
At times I heard the songs of the giants
who opted to sing for a glass of wine!

Like Omar Khayyam would sing to the grove of vine,
while singing their lullabies they wouldn’t mind,
defying the bloomer stars in the moonlights
gladly treading on the black alleys of the night.
Didn't they budge, didn't they bend to pick up  
a potion of the sea, billowing in the dark?
But they opted out, just for a glass of wine!

To paint a glimpse of that gorgeous Saqi
till now they shun, lending the sun a paintbrush,
‘cause "if only it was colourful enough,” yet the sun
paints the enduring shades of the blue yonder.
But they turned around—just for a glass of wine!

The moon hanging low over the ocean took a pause.
The earth weighed down so deep is brimful!
Every sunrise paints new, loves to shine on once more
That delved-deep earth vintage taste, cooled in age-old,  
now close by the hands breathe in, full of warm south.
Yet they opted out—just for a glass of wine!

Even the time is speechless, ask me not but why.
Still keeps an ear bent on the wall of the leaning sky.  
Nor those who pop out with an inside scoop are ever drunk.
Nor they leak out, it’s a sea off the sea or Abe-Hayath.
It ain’t that small, it is the deathless spring of elixir!
Em Sep 2015
Fire and ice are opposites
Dark and light are too

Opaque and clear are opposites
And one we can see through

Day and night are opposites
And that we do not judge

And when we find another opposite it might not make us budge
Andrew Nov 2017
I am pure subjectivity
I am objectivity contained by a brain
I am an entity
Inside a body
I control my limbs
And my organs control me
The apparatus for my entity

I am a being that seeks understanding
While remembering who I stand under
Those who sneakily seek to plunder
The developing enigmatic wonder
In my mind's torturous tundra

My mind uses my body as a slave
But is also a slave to the shame
Of my body's interactions
Within marginalized factions
There is a fight between the two
Like the fights between me and you
My body won't quit when my mind is through
And my mind stays conscious while my body is blue
So I'm stuck in a deadlock
With a mentality of bedrock

Once I cease to be human
I can be the perfect judge
When my emotions won't budge
I'll see things the way most organisms do
Inside this zoo
Animals have the flu
And give it to each other
When we communicate through pain
The flu actually seems tame
Compared to your game
Of taking humanity
And leaving an entity
After you entered me
My somber soul left
Because of personality theft

My mind moves my arms
To block the pain
My mind moves my feet
To do the same
Yet I lost these advantages
When I had to walk too far
My life only got more hard
After experiencing your entropy
I became a disembodied entity
Jamie Riley Apr 2018
They look out from the terrace.

At the borders of sight
live rocky hills behind brown
and golden and olive crop
under a cloudless sky.

Sun beams brighten motley roofs
on tessellations which blacken beige
in blurry air.


An artificial cloud.

“Look,” she points, “Let’s go!”

She takes him and they fly down stairs,
diving like sparrows
into the street.

Boys sprint across pavements and climb;
men vault over fences in time
for news to reach ears.

“They’re coming!
"¡Ya vienen!"

Excitement and fear.
The rattling of cow bells
and galloping nears.

Men bait and dodge horns
and escape through doors
and up and over
red wooden bars.

Sticks beat on the concrete ground
and drive the mute beasts's sounds.

Seconds away –
until the last,
he side steps into a house;



he runs through the foyer
and up the stairs
around a corner.

Long strides

too fast to follow.

She chooses left and
sings soprano
when doors won't budge
and a beast crashed in.

She turns and the fear is paralysing.



He leaps down steps
and explodes
as it rams her
to and fro,
bashing her head
against the wall
where horns sin
and horns gore
cement and brick.

He grips the tail
heaving its hide from
side to side as
hooves smash
crates of wine,

he slips and slides
in fractured glass
and finds a horn
and yanks the head;

is yanked instead,
half dead before the men
arrive down stairs
to shout and kick it;
strike and stick it
smack and hit it;
'til it
fits and quits
and flees the foyer
fast and frantic
flying flustered
by the frenzy
finding the





"¿Que ha pasado?
  ¿Quien ha sido?
  ¡El Balbotin
  y la Chicha!
  ¡Que una vaca
  les ha pillado!"

His hands bleed
and flesh breathes.

"¿Estas bien?"

Dizzy, she tends to him
with searching hands,
and scolding words.
Men and women
fuss and frown,
always making sure.

"Podria haber sido peor"

Another story for the herd.
This poem is about an incident which happened to my Grandparents, Fermin Yanguas Ochoa and Raimunda Ramos Frias.

It was during a bull run in their village (Fitero) in Navarra, Northern Spain. 1972
liza Feb 2016
sitting in the dark, chewing on my cheeks. My ankle bracelets don’t come off and they're still wet from the tub
she used to braid my curls before bed

driving on the interstate with my back windows rolled down. The front ones wont budge
she would hold my phone with the maps up, “get off on the next exit”

Id come home to fiery curls every night; i still do. Except they're mine and they smell like smoke instead of coconut shampoo
things change but not a whole lot ya know
Amanda Mar 2018
Fill the hollow crevice of my existence
With light, show me a warmer way
Stop numbness from taking over
I am slipping further0 into dismay.

Down the senseless pit of despair
My direction is out of control
Darkness paralyzes my mind
Strangling thoughts that crawl and roll

Constricting my body until I give up
I kick the air but cannot land a blow
The empty space will never stop resisting
The sound of my own scream has become my foe.

The endless void swallows my voice
Here the tears I cry fall forever
The lies I have told mean nothing now
I knew my will was always meant to sever.

Faced with nothingness all around
This is my life; a ******* hole
It's slowly shoving me outwards
Little by little, pain taking over my soul.

Chaos has reality gripped
In a tight but unsure grasp
Confusing the mass of color
And motion contained in its clasp

Bullied by the tidal wave of isolation
Head above water though it is strong
Giving up the ability to move
Surviving by the current floating me along.

My consciousness is traveling lethargically
I no longer feel my torso or limbs
Attempt to wiggle a finger but it won't budge
It takes all my strength to speak and part dry lips.

This is where existence ceases
Where time's beginning meets its end
An unending loop of monotonous emotions displayed
A breif instant in which Eternity life does suspend
This started as how I felt when I was crippled by heartache and doubt but switched lanes kinda. It's random I suppose. But it sounds pretty.
Sebastian Macias Jul 2016
She still had tears in her eyes
Her eldest son, Max, just passed
He had an overdose on July 5th
This woman held in real pain
I don't doubt her for a second
She is old, burnt, mad
Her madness is pure, pure madness
She tells me her stories
And I sit there, hungover
Looking into those tearey eyes
She elaborates her stories
Wou her motion as she sweeps
"He chased me yesterday!
It was real, I knew it
Even if it didn't happen, it was real
The man loves under the budge that
Connects one building to another
I think she said she might have scared him
Maybe he thought she was real too
"I ran into the street screaming!!"
I'm at the edge of my seat.
The police have her ****,
"Historical" she says, well of course
Wouldn't you be too if you got chased
The man under the bridge
The second floor custodian
I was all too real
Grace Feb 2017
The only beam of light,
In this war we were forced to fight.
I wanted this to bend,
I wanted these rules to end.
We’re so young,
But the battle cry had been sung,
I watched people **** and die,
But I could only sigh.
Who am I to judge?
The enemy wouldn’t budge.
The flames of pain.
The tears of rain.
Amanda Jul 2018
Heavy-chested, I try to release emotions,
The moon shakes its head in dismay,
Seasons unwinding, heartache in slow-motion,
And in weather hides words I can't say.

In the thick sincere compliments
Concerns flail, attempt to get out,
Bang on barriers, will not budge,
'Life consumed, hopeless doubt.

Mind enveloped in fear,
Shackled by trusting nature,
Wings clipped, self-made prisoner,
I wonder if you sense restraints stir.

Certain only one choice allowed,
A crowd of disapproving eyes stare,
Maybe stars can take me far from this place,
They twinkle, dreams in night air.

Want to shine with a similar light,
**** areas stand in protest,
Hold back the glow, I seem dimmer,
Searching for a spot to rest.

Weakness planted in crevices,
Rosebushes bearing thorns blooming,
Learning to love myself even when no one else does,
I'm hard to be with, I am only human.
Love me when i least deserve it, because thats when i need it the most.
Planejane2 Apr 9
Why do I have no boundaries?
Why do you always double time, triple cross me?
Why do I draw a line in the sand for you to curse the waves to erase it.
Even though there’s no need, because you would’ve overstepped it.
You sense my need to keep the peace, so I shush at the tide.
But you hopped on it and rode it, until you were very well settled over me before returning to the sea.
I’m scared of drowning but I don’t budge, so I’m still at bay.
But you prey for the sand to come and bury me away.
I’m scared of sinking but I don’t budge so I’m like a stick in the quicksand.
Suffocating, strangled. Nothing left but a stick in my hand.
looms need fixing
signs need painting
his eyes are fading
his mouth is waiting
for your lips
to take their payments
same love
same amazement
if you wish to hear me out
stay and i won’t need to shout
love is bold
and nomads are sold
to foreigners for gold
and i am told
that you won’t budge
so remove the fudge
from the freezer
and let it melt
upon your tongue
you are a teaser
filled with crumbs
of sugar and butter
i wish i was more
than just a number
to you
acacia Dec 2018
i just want the tears to come out already because they haven’t,
and i’ve tried everything from talking to my father, cutting off my own foot,

even stabbing myself in the heart and they still won’t come out.
i am pulling the best i can and it hurts me so much that they will not budge.

i am panicking, i am panic. it is building up in my chest and rising up from my throat, this panic. it is bubbling in my stomach and my heart will not stop fluttering.

my hands shake; my eyes well, sting and burn, but, nothing. no tear will lay out its rope down my cheek, and not come out from the tower of my eyes.

these tears stay captive though i do not want them prisoner any longer; i do not want them in my towers any longer; i do not want them here. i do not know what to do.

daddy, why did you do this to me?
Pauline Dec 2018
I push and push and shove
but you don't budge

when i scream, you whisper.
when i cry, you hold me.
when i speak, you listen.

i attempt to push you over the edge
but i never seem to get you there

so i wonder...
        why aren't you running as fast as you can love?
and i realize...
       that when you told me that you would pick me up when i couldn't stand
its because you meant it.

so thank you for speaking softly, holding me tightly and listening attentively.

and for being extremely patient with me even when im not patient with myself.
Kris Oct 2017
The ancient bridge is alight with rage
burning bright like dragon's breath--
fierce, invigorating, brimming in age.

she had been a structure of the primeval kind
wooden bones tied together with tendons of twine
and sweat the subtle scent of forest from pine.

a mother she had been to the lands that relied
on her undying presence throughout bodies of time,
their parted lips looking for a voice in their midst.

yet, it was not soft thanks nor words of praise
but instead scorn that was spat at her from the
toothless mouth whom she would steadily aid.

loveless from the moment of her birth--built by force
hammering nails until they fit (and she bled)
wires strung tense above her, intended to strain.

and yet through it all she kept her balanced grace--
did not falter--not even from the howling remarks
of the de-hearted winds that carved scars through her;

not when the snow seasonally perched on her back,
refused to budge; filling her caves with ice, 'til the sun
melted them like tears, meanwhile searing her skin;

not wavered by the storm of steps--the most agonizing,
this relentless drum-beating, a headache’s throbbing
that never gave her even a heartbeat's rest.

thus the flames became the sole love to taste her
intimate, attentive; the blaze left no part unsavored
they carefully consumed her whole, limb by limb.

first stroking her weary wings until they lowered;
blanketing her shivering legs that always stood firm
but, exposed, had wanted to be covered.

licking delicately the buckling belly that was worn raw;
what rapture! what warmth! a foreign feeling of awe
for it had heretofore only ever known violation as law.

and so at last the foundation creaked, fatigued;
her last breath (one she had been holding for eternity)
erupted as a half-happy cry, for she resolved to release;

the weight of sisyphean struggle collapsed piece by piece
and as the fire consumed her, all pressure was relieved--
for ashes perceive not burden--they are as light as dreams.
Kada Oct 2018
It all started with him
Many say that I was a fool, but they didn't know the love we shared
Every girl wanted him but I seemed to be his lucky choice
With one kiss of his lips, my life came crashing down.

I was the girl that nobody noticed but to him, I was his world
My life had no meaning but with him, I had a purpose
Chosen by the gods I say and handpicked by the devil they sneer
Blinded by love, everyone had seen what he had done that I found no fault in.

Does your first love have to be your worst?
Is what everyone says about him true?
High school relationships don't have to burn up in flames, do they?

Everything seemed perfect until my eyes became clear of what he was doing and reality hit me.
He would text me at strange times in the night and never want to hang out during the day
At that moment, I realized that there was someone else taking up his time.

I thought love wasn't more than hugs and kisses, but clearly, I was wrong
My love for him began to fade as I watched him pull another
girl, like myself, into his trap
I guess I should warn her but she'll be blinded like I was and tune everyone out.

I was too naive to notice the trap he was building around me
Why did he leave me?
Maybe it was because I wouldn't budge with what he wanted to take away from me.

Hot anger boiled inside of me, growing to seek revenge
How could he do this to me, I trusted him with everything.

So many questions boggled my mind and I wondered, are high school relationships just to see who comes out unhurt
or to play with each other's feelings
I just want this all to end.

I hope I never see him again, and fade into the crowd.

Once again.

He'll never find nobody better than me.
carminayasmin Nov 2018
next time when
the sky dawns when sun sets when the stars spill and one day in which its not pervading me over. life again you will have. one you had before my own time ascended. we can walk past each others life as humans. the name will fade from song lyrics, the face from the blackness. I will  be empty because there won't be any more lies to binge.
I budge your arm off my body and your shattered on the carpet. tomorrow you will be so ****; an old acquaintance.
Meridith Jan 24
He played tricks with my mind
But I was completely blind
He toyed with my feelings
And yet I still took his beatings
All alone, I sat and cry
Praying that I could just die
He made me believe I was wrong,
When he was the blame all along

With alcohol on my lips
he didn’t hesitate to grab my hips
he forced himself on me, along with his touch
I pleaded for him to stop, but he wouldn’t budge
My lips he kissed, his hand moved low
I begged him to stop, please no more
With a hand over my mouth
I knew there was no way out
My body went into flight
I could not put up a fight
Shut up and take it he said
And deep inside, I wanted to be dead
He forced himself in
And I gave up and let him win
My mind filled with confusion, and his mind filled with lust
He took another part of me with each ******
The pain, unbearable
How could a human being be so terrible?

After he was done, I could not cry
For that was the day, I finally died inside
Omni Winters Oct 2018
What is it like to think with your brain?

What is it like to think with such a mind like yours?

I want to look into your soul, to see who you really are.

I want to explore the depths of your beautiful and complex mind.

How does it feel to have such intelligence?

Is everything about logic and rationalizing ideas?

I wonder how you feel.

I want to know your emotions.

I want to know your heart:

Who do you love?
What do you love?
   What are your interests?
  What are your passions?

I want to know everything.

How is it that I have such an amazing person presently in my life,
and I don't know anything about them?

You're such a mystery.

A lock that won't budge.

Why is that lock so stubborn?

© 2018 Omni Winters
October 1st, 2018
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