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Shofi Ahmed Oct 2017
Shining upon the rose,
lovely the sun rises
over the midday sky.

Without a second thought
the brightest one steps up
bends the ear on the ground.

Prophet Muhammad's (PBUH)
wife was waiting.
He was walking his way home.

Maybe or maybe not
one can revive from the
death sleeping at the night.
Hearing the sound
of the homecoming
beloved's foot though
one can't die.

The blessed lady heard
the sound of the foot
and was sure it was his.
This is it, it's the man, it's his!
He is coming home.

The sun is walking on the way.
It will show up
upon the rose in no time.

Ah, only to discover,
it was Fathima walking
father's home!

She, a woman had
her foot sounds the same as
the man's, the greatest of all!
The very one cannot be copied
because he is the masculine original.

Because from the one
same circle came
the man and the woman.
Maybe with a little gap
spilling infinite pi decimals
new days and new nights.

Still, these are a show of
the one Moon and the one Sun!
Shofi Ahmed Jan 27
Zero is enduring
zero is deathless.
Nothing is up to it
none can mirror it
though forever
it's an open case.
The eyes are yet to
see an open face!

Because like it's
nothing is in perfect shape
purely a perfect circle!
Nothing matches it
as like Fathima is none else!

Ever more sprawling pi decimals
never go unnoticed propelling
to the end surge before her.
Before the original one
Fathima is yet to be mirrored.

All the planets turn circular
before the unseen perfect circle.
Fathima nails it snapped it up
circled it with her hair!
Before the furthest sighted eyes,
the dot at the earth's centre
at its pool of primitive water.

Fathima embeds in a loop of her hair
thus supercharges the water!
It finds the cut, the golden ratio,
constant continuity in her hair's inner flow.
And the Big Bang happened
there, their breakthrough!
The potential worlds to be
from the first drop of water
she gets them all buzzed out.
From down the rock bottom,
from the zero null
Fathima finds and raises the sun!

Nothing is comparable to it on the ground
nor up on the high, we only see the fire
of a heavenly phenomenon is beyond the sight!
David R Jun 2018
Round about is deep black darkness,
Darker than the blackest night,
Whispering deep 'n dreadful murmurs.
Bird dropped dead in midflight.

Blind and weeping, lifeless attle,
What you see is your own soul,
Burnt and weary from the battle.
Disenchanted from its goal.

In the ash, a spark she smoulders,
Crackling, rasping, wounded warrior,
Briars squeeze her neck and shoulders,
Suffocating in smog-fill'd air.

Deep within stagnating water,
Crystal-clear elixir tear,
Rippling movement, life astir,
Phoenix rises from the slaughter.

Still she rises, Golden Daughter,
Fears no longer yonder fright,
Strength within from those who fought Her,
Blackest night turned brightest light.
Shofi Ahmed Sep 2017
Without it earth is no earth,
I (the primeval feminine)
have no doubt, the prophet
circle is my witness I touched
the bottom of her water!

Zeroed into her zero neigh
and circled it with my hair,
laid down for it the foundation
hardwired with my circle.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
This love began within our hearts, so sweet, an act of fate,
swept up in life so much a dream I didn’t want to wake.
We spend our days and nights together in each other’s eyes,
oh I would trade all of my today’s for one of those gone by.

Dancing ‘neath the moon above so magical and bright,
as the fireworks burst ‘round us we held to each other tight.
Making love to you with eyes, sneaking kisses in the dark,
the real world seemed to melt away in the midst of all the sparks.

You were my lover on the trips we made to seas gone warm,
and made me feel forever safe as you held me in your arms.
Swimming at resorts down south we shut the whole world out,
together we played the game of love, of this I had no doubt.

As you brushed away the tangled hair then covering my eyes,
Your touch became a part of me no longer could I hide.
I fell so hard, I lost myself and traded life for you,
but you, my love, have traded me for someone young and new.

So now I find I’m all alone, though I’ve kept you in my heart,
I realize the time has come to make a brand new start.
For another life to come along and fill my life once more,
I pray for this with all my strength, I’m standing at the door.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.
Luz Hanaii Jul 2018
Changing our circle is helpful to advance.
Most avoid the naked truth, but dress it up.
They tell us what we like to hear.
"There, there..., you are so wonderful..."  
"Why, thank you!, so are you!"
We resort to ego stroking
We fib and stretch veracity
therefore we stagnate.

Sometimes life will push and kick us in the rear
specially if we're too comfortable,
that we may learn and grow.
n-khrennikov Sep 2018
They eat her eyes,
they drank her soul.
I buried flowers with hearts in the grave. The crows find their blood.
n-khrennikov ©

Sow and Reap
Shofi Ahmed Jun 2018
Without a rope but
squaring the circle
the giant man gives it a try
takes a flight off to the sky
only to fall flat on the ground.

She turns around
gives the circle her pi.
He bounces back
and retakes the flight
Que Sera, Sera on the way!
Sally Tsoutas Nov 2017
It's that time again.
When rangey youth
in wounded utes
are sent to pick up tin.
Eyes peeled for
shiny mangled bikes
and steely bits
of thing.
I want to see
the crucible
they put it in.
Behold the pearly
mess unfold.
A gleaming steaming
mass of brassy storm
So cooked
and cooled
and coaxed
and clicked
and jewelled
into mercurial form
Then moulded
bright and fine
once more.
This is the
Copper loop
of life we mine.
Council cleanup in my neighbourhood this week. A scavenger's delight.
Shofi Ahmed May 2017
She is pyramidon spreads down the pyramid
Led by him up the pyramid that keeps climbing high.
Continues to straighten his straight line but her
curve off the top embraces full is an enduring spiral!

Off the apex of the pyramid the butterfly has slipped out
Still a circle still a cut whatsmore is concealed in the pi?
Future is in now, deathless in death only a pi away!
Shofi Ahmed Aug 2018
Every corner
every nook is full.
Bouquets of stars
flower over the Moon!

Lo, unleashing every
bit of the inky night
the sleeping beauty
to wake soon!

Go to the nth degree
when everything is full
look for somewhere new!
It's a full circle, full-blown
but a ceaseless moving world
to one more new angle!
Shofi Ahmed Apr 2017
Just a dew drop, let alone the sea,
and a handful of earth, not the Planet Ge.
Not a shade of blue, save the rose for bee
Purely a clear drop didn’t spill in the core,
because the whole sphere feels the pinch.

Singing chorus rains down, bouncing back
to earth the only open-through planet.
No black hole is as deep as the sun jumps,
dives in the dew on every flower they wet.
Every bird in the trees sings and tweets,
yet one is stone quiet, shouldn’t even hiss.
Shh! shh, the sleeping beauty is sleeping!

Cut above the rest, the unique earth
brimming with the infinite finishing line
by design pans out to the transcended pi.
Pure spring, the waterfront by the Moon,
untouched, unspoiled is her swimming pool.

How she goes by, wetting her ****** toe
Only to bubble high up the transcended circle
If only the sun could rise high in that pole,
for the rest of species could sneak a peek.
She’s there with the capstone of the pyramid!

Shots beyond the fixed circle, netting the eyeballs.
The stars, the Moon on the move for pure freedom.
The thrilled earth did come out, smelling of roses
Off the golden cut pi-decimal-abyss digital spring.
With a handful of earth and a drop of water dew
This is a pure mirroring thanks to the original, you!

At the end of the string apt you lovely took her by hand
and she took it in emptying her heart and soul.
Earth is now too thin on stock, she is no more
Just a shadow, a 360-degree hollow flute!
Oh light at the end of the tunnel shine and show
Play in like in the Night of Ascension once more!
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
Shofi Ahmed Jun 2018
Hold it with nothing
only behold with the eyes!
Lo, this crescent Moon:
The heaven's smile in the night!

It’s the discovery made
walking down the black moon.
Without a light in the sight
as if walking blindfolded
but didn't go into the blue.

Took a trip into the matrix
without squaring the circle.
With no pattern, no more decimals of pi
undefined by design but found the Moon!
D Awanis Jul 2018
I was thousand kilometers away from you,
when a stranger bumped into me
he asked me where I was heading off
he asked me if I'm lost by the dead end

I remember answering that nothing to worry,
as I used to go solo and travel alone
'though he offered me help, I refused
it's the kind of kindness I can never repay

Years passed by until it comes to my senses,
how could I ever grasp his helping hand
while your fingerprints are still all over my skin?
while your voice still resonates down to my toes?

Youth was all we ever had, and
no matter how far I've come to walk away
every time I wander it goes directly to you
—I am running in circle
Dark Fjord Nov 2016
Aus Staub
bist du
-zu Staub
sollst du

From dust you've become,
to dust
you shall again, in my throat
have been.
You read it in the magazines, when someone makes it big.
They always thank their families for everything they did.
They say they were encouraged to believe in themselves.
But what about the rest of us, with the families from hell?

Yeah, there's a lot of us, who've got the same dreams
as those kids from the families in the magazines.
Ours was a different world, to say the least--
I saw less of my father than I did the police.

But if you hear me singing under the street night
I'll be weaving sweet music from the threads of my nights
When I'm weary and lonely, and my troubles run deep,
I take comfort from my music-- it's a comfort I can keep.

No, we never got the message that we were even OK.
It was more like we were garbage that they couldn't throw away.
Music was survival for my soul, oh it made me feel so good!
You could always find me singing, in my corner of the 'hood.

Now if you hear us singing under the street light,
we'll be weaving our harmonies from the threads of our nights.
When you're weary and lonely, and your troubles run deep,
come and listen to the music, turn your bitter into sweet.

So our parents didn't know much about lovin' their kids,
but what they couldn't give us, well the music sure did!
It gave us all something that we could hold on to,
I still believe in music, yeah, it still sees me through.

If I hear you singing under the street light
I know you won't mind at all, if I sing along tonight.
'Cause we've both been down that lonesome road,
and we know the same songs
I know that I am welcome in the circle of your song.

Yeah, if you hear us singing under the street light,
come, add your harmony, from the colors of your nights.
In the circle of the music, everyone belongs,
There's a place for you right here, come on in and sing along,
There's a place for everybody in the circle of the song!
A song, written in 1999.
Copyright 2011 by Michael S. Simpson. All Rights reserved by the author
Shofi Ahmed Feb 2018
It always does before I can see
before my foot, my heart
goes out to the sea.

Like the East, like the West
every pole comes in full circle
around this quay.

Far from the bottom of the land
every drop of water spills out
streaming along the rivers
march over to the sea.

I too pop up branching in
with the widest circle sliding
down to this so big but lingering dip.

Therein the sea when a river
looks for the bottom
a star up above in the sky
without a rope without a roof
looks for its peak!

Eye on but touch not
keep off the Moon.
It's for the sea.
For the Moon
the sea too is a Moon!
Thomas C Sep 15
Like a droplet in a river we travel. No clue of direction.
Yet we ever flow through the path carved out of us by an entity unknown.
Slowly we reach, yet unaware of it, to our destination.
Then we fall, by the millions unto the next flow of life.
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 the galaxy only to disperse
into a profound constellation never finds a bottom.
Because 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 May 2017
Come whichever way it is your choice  
Choose your way as you please.
The ground is laid down beneath you  
All around smooth simply a polished circle  
once you're in you are covered you won’t lose.  

Just as the sun never misses, is spot on!  
At the end of the day escapes into the dark  
mixes and rolls in the shadow of the moon.  
A light in the dark, a straight line in curve  
does its dance and bounce.
Tests and retests the golden ratio  
shining at the sunrise angle.
How does one ask for peace
When prosperity never led to longevity
How can the world end all hunger
And not fall to gross gluttony

I see the elders
Beaten, starved, survived
Cherishing the joy of a softer life

I see the younger
Fallen to the levity
Of a life without much gravity
Overlooked for a lack of experience

You can't fault anyone seeking
Refuge from pain
Yet, there will be no end to hurting
Until you've borne enough for calluses

T'is the circle of life
Always seeking to end the blemishes of life
Always longing for hunger when full
Always missing to ache when numb

There's always hope for the hopeful
Some hope for AN END, A VOID
To the endless cycle
To everything
Others hope for something different
If the truth is ever unknown till experienced
And hope is hope
Why not hope for the unfathomable
Where suffering is not prerequisite to joy
It is not banished or outlawed
It simply does not exist
Nor can it even be pronounced,
Along with DEATH

Unlike BLISS,
And the liberty of pure existence
With absolute free will

Endure the momentary
For the everlasting reward
When you close your eyes
You can believe in the darkness
Or await the wonder of an eternal dream
Evie Apr 2018
i had a huge wound on my chest
it has been bleeding my whole life and i knew i was eventually gonna run out of blood
so i didnt bother
i gave up
i gave up on trying to stop it
i gave up on speaking about it to anyone because they kept saying i was imagining it
but i never tried to deny
so i gave up on feeling
i wanted to laugh like i didnt want to laugh
i was hurting so much it eventually stopped hurting at all
i smiled at passengers without smiling
i became nothing
but then i met someone
and he has a soul full of secrets and magic
the kind of person who you dream about but you never did reach them
so i looked into his eyes with my empty ones
and i was suddenly back somewhere
back in a memory i didnt actually remember
and without a word
just this quiet promise that your eyes gave out
you tighten your arms around my chest where the wound was
and it stopped bleeding
i was scared that your body was going to get ***** from touching my dried blood
no one likes a stained shirt
or that you would see what all of them saw and you were gonna laugh or run
but you are human
and i felt that
you are me
you understood me
and you stayed
and i stayed as well
and i think the wound has disappeared
i have never been more scared of a relationship

also the title is not by me i took it from a movie "**** your darlings"
Sarah Sep 13
Septembers remind us
that change, while inevitable
is always beautiful.
That each season of life
brings different weather.
The flowers don't have to
be blooming year round
for our surroundings
to be full of color.
does not have to be
growth to be necessary.
NC Aug 2018
Something different in your eyes
Isn't it a fire?
What are you prepare?
Then why do I care?
It can make me melt, I wouldn't dare.

You introduce me to our river
So I can see you clearer
There's a poison and water
Unintentionally became a power

A couple things I compare
Between you and the scripture

A couple things I aware
When you and me already perspire

It's strange, we bring our bodies to suffer
Why don't wait until we sober
And we can start over.
©anecstatic 2018
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