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Elioinai Jun 2018
little spots of ink on paper
as I ponder what to write
little thoughts do linger
emotions caught in webs so tight
I try to untangle a single line
searching through exhausted mind
my soul still raw from life’s sharp edge
the wounds and scars form a blurry wedge
between what I got and what I wanted
what I lost and what I needed
the messy page before my eyes
not unlike these spastic lies
I ask again
when shall I truly find rest?
AY Mar 2016
                          ­                    On
        ­                                                  Edge
                                                                ­   Of
                                                                ­       A
                                                                ­           Sheer
                                                       ­                              Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop
                                                            ­                         Drop.
storm siren Oct 2017

Do you hear it?


Listen closer.


Can you feel it?


Close your eyes.


Breathe in.


Breathe out.


Can you hear her voice?


Do you know what she's saying?


I don't think we should listen.


Did it just get colder?


Can you hear it?


It's coming from the walls...


What? No, wait--


Is that..?


She's at the backdoor.


N-no, no please!


It's so quiet.


I think it's over.




Do you hear it?



Drop* Drop
Drops on my window
Drop Drop
Should I stay in
or go out?
Drop Drop
Staying in would
keep me warm
keep me dry
Drop Drop
Going out would
make me cold
make me wet
Drop Drop
Inside I can
hear the fallen watter on my roof
Outside I can
Smell how the earth is refreshed
Drop Drop
And now it stopped
And I dident take a pick
And I dident make a choice
Drop *Drop
Everlasting Nov 2016
... drop
......drop dead

a single drop of blood,
then it rains

.................. drop
.......................drop dead

a single cloud of dark thoughts
then begins to rain


Till it rains
the dark thoughts out of your head

........ drop

the idea of dropping dead
Make it rain
I stopped.
My feet rested on the cool cement, and I listened.
Every tree, every bush, was whispering.
It started as a murmur, and grew.
Soon it was as if every forest in the world was talking, talking, whispering, whispering.
The voices faded for a moment, but it was not silent, for someone else was speaking.
Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.
The rain was speaking to me.
Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.
No, it was not speaking, it was singing.
Drip. Drop. Drip. Whizz.
Drip. Drop. Drip. Whizz.
Drip. Drop. Whizz. Drip. Drop. Whizz.
All around me it was swirling and falling and rising again to continue the song.
The trees had joined the song again.
Now it was as if they shouted their song with the rain.
Drip. Drop. Whisper. Whizz.
Drip. Drop. Whisper. Whizz.
Then, in a moment, the heavens broke open and a downpour of music flooded the earth where I stood.
The music ran.
It danced.
It rushed under my feet and all around me it sang.
I looked down at my feet and saw they were moving.
I looked up and the world swirled around me again and again.
I was dancing.
The rhythm of the music moved me with the waters and I flew with it.
I whirled around and around and around.
My heart flew with the music.
Through the whispering trees, through the rain in the air.
I danced and danced, unashamed and unaware of the world around me.
And then, as quickly as it had started, it began to stop.
Drip. Drop. Whisper. Whizz.
Drip. Drop. Whisper. Whizz.
Drip. Drop. Drip. Whizz.
Drip. Drop. Drip. Whizz.
Drip. Drop.
Drip. Drop.
Myles Web Jan 2015
I watched the planets fall, all of them. One by one..
Dropped, dropped, dropped
Dropped, dropped, dropped,
Yet there you stood, on the surface
Giving the moon a reason not to give up as it held its own with the competition of the stars
I watched the tides try to drown out the portraits of the night,
Even isolated from time, the speckles that were fallen specks from God's eyes shine bright
Bright enough to find those planets in the darkness of space
Even as they continued to
Drop, drop, drop
Drop, drop, drop
All of these breathtaking creations of God own this space with no gravity
Even in the midst of the trillion wonders of the furthest sky
I can't take my eyes off of you
Effortlessly, you captivate constellations
You slow down shooting stars
& the moons gather around to worship you as if the universe has deemed you theirs
I just gaze
You blew me a kiss
It caught fire & somehow found its way to me
I've yet to put it out
I watch every move you make
& study anything that rolls off of your lips
The new trend is to make you laugh & watch you cause an eclipse
The Sun & Moon usually get really upset with each other about who you like more
I laugh simply because I know it's me
I'm sorry...
I *hope it's me
But who am I, or more so who would I be?
To compose such audacity to declare that the one thing that keeps the universe flowing is the same creation that God would allow to give her heart to me
Yeah right
I might as well catch up with the planets
Dropping, dropping, dropping
Dropping, dropping, dropping
I catch your attention
& you,
You catch me
I was enjoying the thrill of falling
Even as we dance on the Big Dipper
We swim with Piscis Astrinus
& in our spare time we fly with Volans
We shoot down any doubt that may exist with Sagittarius
& we embrace the adoration from all of God's paintings that exist in the night sky
Your eyes
God, those innocent eyes
They see my soul in the same light that the ecliptic pierces though the zodiac stem groupings
All this space & I can't stay away from you
Even in the midst of the trillion wonders of the furthest sky
I can't take my eyes off of you
I breathe deeply and often as if your love is my oxygen and I know I'm never running out
I watched our fears fall, all of them. One by one.
Drop, drop, drop
Drop, drop, drop
Scotty B Dec 2012
What is this?
The walls,
The bloodied white walls.
Are we okay with this?
My feet,
What the HELL is at my feet?
I can't see with all this ******* white light.
This shimmering white light.
Are we okay?
Drip, drop ~ drip, drop
Clocks on the walls?
Open your eyes,
What's that crawling on the walls?
Drip, drop ~ drip, drop
Are these...
Just focus.
I think I'm missing.
Drip, drop ~ drip, drop
Someone should turn down these lights,
Before I lose my minds.
Where did I even find the time?
My hair;
It's gone!
Who took my ******* hair?
Focus on the paranoia,
Focus on the paranoia,
Focus on...
What's in our leg?
I can feel it,
I can grab it,
Got it!
What the **** is that?
Is that...
Well, how do you do kind sir?
Why, Water, you can talk!
Well, how do you do kind sir?
Why, Water, you can ****!
Well, how do you do kind sir?
Why, Water, you can dance!
Well, how do you do kind sir?
Why, Water, you can prance!
Do you like my clocks on the walls?
Drip, drop ~ drip, drop
How about my filaments in your head?
Drip, drop ~ drip, drop
How about the nightmares we've had?
Drip, drop ~ drip, drop
How about the wettings in bed?
Drip, drop ~ drip, drop
To the Dead!

Drip, drip, drip, drip...
The Good Pussy Jan 2016
                till you drop
               Shop till you d
              rop Shop till you
              drop Shop till you
                drop  Shop till
                you drop Shop
                till  you  d rop
                Shop t ill  y ou
                 drop  Shop till
                  you drop Shop
                  till  you   dro p
                  Shop t  il l  you
                  drop  S hop till
                  you d rop Shop  
          till you drop    Shop till you
       drop Shop till y ou drop shop
          till you drop   shop till you
             drop shop     dropshoptil
                  You                 drop.
*drop to your knees .
Matthew Rowe Aug 2010
Drip, Drop, Drip Drop,
The bucket sloshes,
The old woman kneels
To clean the threshold
of the ones she serves

Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop,
The bucket sloshes
She thinks on her past
And her life and her hopes
her dreams, her last
husband long gone
her friends who’ve been near
her enemies who’ve hurt her,
those she holds dear

Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop
The bucket sloshes,
She washes away
She sets herself to work
and begins to pray

Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop
The bucket sloshes,
As she moves down the hall
Her heart, it labors,
as she scrubs at the floor
the billows of her breath
begin to bore
into her hands
she can work no more
she needs a small break
to labor without work

Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop
She weeps for those who have not drawn near,
For those who are hurting, and lonely, and fear
She will stay forever, in her master’s doorway,
She would rather die, than never have stayed

Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop,
The bucket sloshes,
her made clean heart aches,
is comforted by
a sovereign king’s ways
trials and terrors and toil and sin
good he has planned,
don’t let uncertainty win

Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop,
The bucket sloshes,
She goes back to work
To labor and love,
The last to the first
Ps. 84:10-12
Dennis Scherle Jan 2014
Drip drip drop
I watch the blood run dwn my leg then pool on the bathroom floor in one spot
Drip drip drop
I lock the door so i wont be caught
Drip drip drop
I lock the foor so i wont be stopped
Drip drip drop
I look at my leg this is for my flesh as i carve n F
Drip drip drop
This is for the ******* remarks in place i carve an A
Drip drip drop
Im done with being called an idiot accedentally so i carve an I
Drip drip drop
For everyone who called me a looser or laughed i carve an L
Drip drip drop
People who made me feel useless this is for you as i carve a U
Drip drip drop
This is for those who made me realize what i am so i carve an R
Drip drip drop
This ones for me the last letter i carve an E
Drip drip drop
I lay in the tub watching the water run red replaying FAILURE over and over in my head

Rain is falling
but it's sunny outside.


There's isn't a cloud in the sky.


The sun is shining.


What do we see?
Drops are still falling.
Flood of water

Not coming from the sky,
but eyes.
Eyes flooding up with rain.


When will this rainstorm end?
I read this amazing book yesterday and I just balled my eyes out. It inspired me to write this. I hope you enjoy!
Dr drinkerbocker drinkerbocker
Number nine
He will drink all his beers in time
Let's get the rhythm of the vb
Sink it down for me me
Get totally ****** you see see
Wobble waddle drop drop drop
Dr drinkerbocker drinkerbocker
Number nine
He will drink all his beers in time
Let's get the rhythm of the Carlton
Get drunk on it and sink it
Get totally ****** you see see
Wobble waddle drop drop drop
Dr drinkerbocker drinkerbocker
Number nine
He will drink his beers in time
Let's get the rhythm of the tooheys
Oh man I feel like a tooheys
Get totally ****** you see see
Wobble waddle drop drop drop
Dr drinkerbocker drinkerbocker
Number nine
He will drink his beers in time
Let's get the rhythm of XXXX
Get totally ****** while having ***
Wobble waddle drop drop drop
Dr drinkerbocker drinkerbocker
Number nine
He will drink his beers in time
Let's get the rhythm of Hahn lite
We must drink it down like we can fight
Wobble waddle drop drop drop
You see dr drinkerbocker will drink all this just to get drunk
A drop of blood is a drop is sanity.

A drop of wax is a mess.

A drop of liquid that spew from eyes is called emotions.

A drop of ink is called expression.

A drop is a drop.

But what we make with the meaning

that drop makes the drop worth more

than a drop.

Because a drop is a drop after all.
When you think of a drop whay does it remind you ?
Is a drop just a drop ?
To me we mold the drop of what we want it to be. We express. We interpret. We make something bigger or smaller than what it seems. I'm talking about the world today and it's standards and our emotions, feelings.
arra Jun 2018
Drop. Drop
Little rain drop fall

Drop. Drop
Raindrops are like human afterall
Transparent, small and fragile

Drop. Drop
Little rain drop hit the ground

Drop. Drop
Raindrops are humans when break down
Crashed into pieces, no where to found

Drop. Drop
Raindrops start to heavy.
People showered happily

Drop. Drop
People are people afterall
We love to see someone's fall
One time, I told to my friend my thought about how rain and people are similar and it was an out of the blue conversation. She told that my idea was so insane and none sense. And I realized that I look to the things so deep and maybe I should let those things as it is and never associate it with life... Or maybe I should stop talking to that person?
It berates the ears and resonates louder and louder,
As it continues to cooperate with one another.
It lets the noise bounce back and become even louder.
Drowning out all that is clear,
Drowning out all the good that has been building up over the years.

DROP, DROP, DROP, globules cascading down in rhythm with the problem at hand.
Gripping tighter and tighter strangling out the PLAN.
Wishing that the water would at least fall on someone else,
But it keeps moving over my head, dropping the wet when the skies are clear.

This water is louder when the sun draws near.
The voices get louder when light pierces through the dark.
TAP, TAP, TAP, goes the drum inside of my head.
But the tapping is not enough to drown you out when you are together.

I am done.
I am finished.
I am passed up for things that I would love to do.
I am passed up for things that could be good for me.

I am a glorified babysitter.
Watching and never acting.
Being disrupted all day long, when I'm just trying to help.
The voices destroying the inner circle of my soul.

As it passes me by.
As the jealousy unfolds.
Wishing that it would break down, or the opportunity would present itself to me as well.
I am falling down, crying, tearing at my skin, hoping for the EXHAUSTION to go away.

And then it crawls down the spine.
Inserting needles in every vertebra.
Wanting to trigger the nerves, in its own sadistic way.
PINCH, PINCH, PINCH goes the needle over and under the skin.

It warps the images of goodness into a platoon,
A platoon of soldiers, whose only goal is to **** steal and destroy.
As I stare up to my Father asking, "Will today be the day?"
DROP, TAP, PINCH the water hitting his hand that he uses on the drum stick to plunge the needle deep.

This noise loves to make its home inside my head.
The venom crawling up through my back and weighing me down like lead.
Distorting my views and asking me to change lanes.
A vice that forms from blood clots in my brain.

I am done.
I am finished.
I just want a moment to breathe in some good.
I just want to look forward to what's ahead.
Sometimes you find yourself in situations that make you wonder why you have been out there.
Robyn Neymour Nov 2009
I sense it,  
I can feel its mist.
Thunder begins to roll.
Lighting begins to flash.
“Drip Drop”
Now I can hear it.
Where already there,
Where getting into it.
“Drip Drop”
Comes closer to me,
Taking away my every breathe
Begins to pick up the speed
“Drip Drop”
We begin to intertwine,
I begin to lose control of my mind
All of a Sudden
“Drip Drop”
Realises my struggle
Begins slow down
Understand me,
So it slows down.
“Drip Drop”
Please I beg take me away,
I fell in love with you,
Please don’t go away.
“Drip Drop”
It stayed and waited,
Until I fell asleep,
Falling into a subliminal state.
“Drip Drop”
I woke up,
Only to remember its sound,
Never looked once upon its face.
“Drip Drop”
© RGN 19 Nov. 2009
Crimson red and so beautiful
Maybe that's not the word
That's it
Not gorgeous or even horrifying
Just majestic

Dripping from my nose
No big deal
With every drop I try to stop

Endlessly crimson
No matter how much I try to stop it
Another drop shows me failure
Dripping faster and faster
The sink fills
Drop by drop
I face my own mortality
A friend walks in
I reply its not a big deal

As I look in the mirror
My face like a rose
Resembling my own death
With the sweet red turning darker
Than the dawn to night
As the world starts to spin
I get light headed
One last drop
I drop
President Snow Oct 2016
Drip drop drip drop
Watching it fall from the top
Drip drop drip drop
Why can't it stop?

Walking down the path
She's walking on a world full of wrath
Mischievous persons everywhere
This pain, how can she bear?

There she was again tonight
Forcing laughter, faking smiles
How can she get out of this place?
She don't know, she don't have strength to fight

Shouting and judging
Now her ears , she's covering
Tears are now falling
Her heart has stop beating

Eyes that as lonely as the darkest hue
She is alive but don't have a life
She is smiling but don't have a bright
Why can't she have the joy you have in you?

Now she's holding a cold piece of metal
Yes! She's picking the last petal
Hoping all the pain will vanish away
The deep cut will take it all away

Drip drop drip drop
Bloods are dripping from the top
Drip drop drip drop
Finally! The pain has stopped.
Although we are many miles apart. My love for you is still true as a single tear drop falls.

I miss you deeply in thought as I imagine our first kiss as a single tear drop falls.

Gazing at the moon and the stars, I hope that you are looking at the same dark sky, as a single tear drop falls.

The day has come and I am wrapped in your arms as a single tear drop falls.

You wipe my tear and tell me not to fear for you will keep me safe and love me from the bottom of your heart as a single tear drop falls.

As the time has come to an end, not even a single tear drop falls.

Since the love of my life is now gone in heaven. A single tear drop fell from above, mixing with mine for one last kiss.
Copyright ©2007 Norma Hutchinson
Lauren May 2019
By. Lauren

This poem sounds like the rest of them.
Am I repeating myself over and over again?
I feel like a leaky faucet of ideas.
Is there any creativity left in me?
My ideas don't flow out like they use to.
I think I'm done with poetry.
Just to clear this up. I am not done with poetry I am just getting a little lost with concepts.
Rangzeb Hussain Mar 2010
The webs of time begin to unwind,
Milky Way universe of darkness,
Blackest night with a billion eyes,
I seek one grain of sand
To show you
That it cannot be done
‘Ere a million years have trickled

Destiny rides a mare darker than white,
Tragedy is the name of the mace,
I am struck by the force of ferocity,
Offspring of glorious Mother History proudly parade
Before the victorious Time Lords,
In the reflection of an eye
I have seen a golden cage which holds
A weeping nightingale,
Her purple tears rain silently onto the dry rivers of time,

In the time of bones
Will wires entwine with metal flesh,
It will be in the years
When the universe will digest time
And spew backwards into the past,
Fear it
This storm form the sands of time,

Mysterious mistress mine might not you reveal all to me?
The secrets of your seductive silvery silken
Velvet creation
Through the time tunnels,
I see the face of light approaching towards me
With outstretched fingers (or are they claws?),
Water (or is it poisonous slime?) drips from the wet body,

I watch old Father Time drag his wizened
Body across the deserts of life,
His mistress the Second
Crawls on her stomach,
She painfully travels over the savage landscape of rocks,
Dry thorns, arid sand dunes, without even saliva
To balm her swollen tongue and chapped lips
(But I must tell all, for in truth, she had blood from her
Cracked lips to soothe her thirsty tongue
Under the shade of the boiling sun
Each Second melts to give dry births to form
Minutes which carry the children of the Hour
Who grow up in Days
To marry Weeks which results in the creation of Months
Which eventually leads to the growth of Years,
This cycle eventually reaches a finale with the
Birth of Death,
The family of Time, watchmakers all,
From dawn to dusk
Chimes of Death do tick,


©Rangzeb Hussain
Park Neyman Apr 2016
cut cut,
the vain opens nice,
drip drop,
blood begins to appear;
just one more,
just one more,
cut cut,
drip drop,
remember why your doing this?
cut cut,
drip drop,
the blood begins to pour,
come on,
no one cares,
just one more,
cut cut,
drip drop,
just a little bit more,
cut cut,
drip drop,
you're up to ten,
Just a little deeper,
a little stronger,
the pain stings more,
cut cut,
drip drop,,
you're about dead,
so why stop?
cut cut,
drip drop,
you go towards the light,
drip drop,
drip drop,
you're gone taken by the night.
My favorite poem i have writen
Kataleya Aug 2014
Drip drop tear.
The darkness nears.
Your demons are here.
Drip drop tear.

Drip drop tear.
The shadow leers.
Your pain is your peer.
Drip drop tear.

Drip drop tear.
The heart no longer bears.
Death smells of fear.
Drip drop tear.

Lorem Ipsum Dec 2017
We haven't talked in quite some time
I know
I haven't been the best
Of sons, hello, I've been traveling in the desert of my mind
And I
Haven't found a drop
Of life
I haven't found a drop
Of you, I haven't found a drop
I haven't found a drop
Of water
I try desperately to run through the sand
As I hold the water in the palm of my hand
'Cause it's all that I have and it's all that I need and
The waves of the water mean nothing to me
But I try my best and all that I can
To hold tightly onto what's left in my hand
But no matter how, how tightly I will strain
The sand will slow me down and the water will drain
I'm just being dramatic, in fact, I'm only at it again
As an addict with a pen, who's addicted to the wind
As it blows me back and forth, mindless, spineless, and pretend
Of course I'll be here again, see you tomorrow, but it's the end of today
End of my ways as a walking denial
My trial was filed as a crazy suicidal head case
But you specialize in dying, you hear me screaming "father"
And I'm lying here just crying, so wash me with your water
I haven't talked in quite some time
I know
I haven't been the best
Of sons, hello, I've been traveling in the desert of my mind
And I
I haven't found a drop
Of life
I haven't found a drop
Of you
I haven't found a drop
I haven't found a drop
Of water

Songwriters: Joseph Tyler Harris
Addict with a Pen lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc
Drip Drop!
Goes the rain

Drip Drop!
So sublime

Drip Drop!
Goes the rain

Drip Drop!
Fills the time

Drip Drop!
Goes the rain

Drip Drop!*
Goes the rain
It's driving me insane!
Kind of sing-song-y
Karina Roman Apr 2014
I want more and more of you,
not a drop less.
I want  to drink you up in a full cup of toxic lies,
not a drop less.
I want to swim inside your belly and soak myself in your sweat,
not a drop less.
I want to dance inside your mouth and taste your words,
not a drop less.
I want to drown myself in your ******* and feel your desires,
not a drop less.

I want to bathe myself in your fluids,
not a drop less.

I want you, to be the only drop that touches me in this storm of love.
Jaclyn Arencibia Apr 2013
Quick question
Do you have, do you have
A second to spare?
A dollar to donate?
A lemon drop to share?

I need some sour
To savor the taste
To cause
My lips to smack
My cheeks to ****
My tongue to swell

Don't give me a sweet treat
Are you listening?
All I need is a single drop
A drop of lemon
To ignite my taste buds
A drop of lemon
To squint my eye lids
A drop of lemon
To remind me what
It feels like to have
A sour taste in my mouth

Because baby,
When your taste lands
On my tongue
The sweetest flavors rush
And I just need
A reminder of the sour
Once in a while

So, baby will you
Spare me a second?
Lend me a dollar?
And kiss me with that
Lemon drop, oh so sour
Shofi Ahmed Jan 13
Fly perfectly straight high and shew the fly
out of the fly-bottle on your way.
Rise to victory far above the blue sky
ripping the reward is the opening of paradise!

The road ahead is all clear eye wide open space
up this way, the end is all vast open to reach
things small and big can grow and disappear in it.
You will see sunrises and sunsets on the way
waxing and waning moon flickering stars in the dark
be mindful though as you sway it got to be laser-sharp.
There is no hard shoulder on this highway
miss it by an inch and risk loosing forever!

There is hope there is light up in the high
pick your paintbrush as does the sun.
Goodness knows how it sneaks in right on the black
canvas of the night painting the first light
lo, it shows up in heaven the candle of the daylight.
So long there are a man and a woman
never give up our canary bird can fly  
rosy or not the nest in every morn nets a sunrise!

A woman indeed plucks up the courage
she never had to look up to the stars
be it for the guide or the light in the night.
Fathima herself was the full Moon every night
is thanks to her Godsent innate light.

With it, she can bask in the full spread of the pi
on top of its short decimals mounting high
constantly as if countless stars in the sky.

The time and space down the sun
and that under Fathima's light
is a far cry from each other
but can live side by side.

Like she points out:
'A circle is masculine
while the pi is feminine'.

Pi forms the circle while it's fine prints
decimal dots continue to spring.
Sprawling trillions of new digits
the bandwagon is still increasing.
Connecting the dots is an untouched dream.
The full moon pi picture is in veil
unseen at large, yet in short 3.145 it can live!  

Fathima can fly her lock of hair
in the lurking air of the transcended pi.
Because she is the primitive feminine
God's secret feminine opus!
An immeasurable black hole in between
the short and transcended pi runs like a river
and dances new on every riverbank
in the many curls of Fathima's jet black hair!

She lent out a hair to the planet earth
and crossed over here like a silhouette
without spilling out the colour
of the transcended end of the pi.
The earth takes it in the core of her heart
as if it would keepsake it forever.
Weaving the pi in Fathima instils the hair
tied it as a perfect circle the first and the front one
of the only ideal circle duo in the universe.

The motion inside the hair is the earth's finest fluid core
none is as deep as high as proportionate a perfect flow.
No time is as revealing no music is as sweet in this orb
no force is as mighty nor as a prevailing giant to explore
it's the cause of gravity and the heat at the earth's core.
the play of spirit and matter in the mix first and foremost
thanks to the pure resonance of 'Qun' be the word of God!

The way to the earth's core is exposed to none other
save the Angel of Death the lucky one.

See both sides of the one lofty sky swathed in countless stars  
but the day and night render through still remains an unseen one  
Terra is shalet zeroed in Fathima is heaven on earth!  
Up in the sky-high bank turning the starry bowl upside down
Fathima took no star nor a pearl diving deep down the Arab water,
the brightest luminary came after Muhammad (PBUH),
in veil from the Night of Measures and into the flipside in the night
she's gone without lifting the veil but left her penetrating mark.

Few could find the shortcut contemplating on this blank canvas
till to date, the Moon looks down into the abyss down the sea
looking for a mirror in the bottom in the as above so below matter
since God Sent Fathima touched on the all-inclusive primitive water.

She just raised a drop up, and the sun got caught up in the sky
the ancient fold of time still unfurls with the sun-kissed flowers
for the new hands yet the fingerprint on the sun remains only her!

Azrael heads to Fathima around the year 632 after death
touches down in Medina on his usual thin earth he steps.  
But this time a little mundane dust couldn't be thicker
he keeps descending deep down to the earth's centre
following from Medina there the angel locates her
inside the perfect circle a closed geometric figure.

Fathima is the female headline her secret is not all known
when she used to visit the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)
he would stand up for her hold her hand and kiss it
and seat her on his seat, she would do the same to the prophet
when he would visit her like they did know each other
in and outside the spheres of heaven and earth!

She is the embodiment of the infinite feminine variations
the first spiritual woman created following God's word Qun.
Her is the mother tongue of the ever diversified feminine lingua
no one woman on her own can rhyme with her alone
she has no peer her rhetoric is unique like none other.
The galactic run from planet to planet up on the starry ladder
climbing high up the mountain heaven yet streams out like oval
off their rock bottom stone until that unleashes the final run
in perfect circle delving into the rhythm of the loop at the centre
made of Fathima's hair charged by 'Qun' God's uncreated word.  

Prophet David can sing on the bank of the river
and can see the fish are jumping to him out of the water.
The masculine is open form, eye on everywhere,
but not her the woman is in juxtaposition her
all-inclusive schema supplanting the details rest only on her.
She is the unseen world within the world at best imagine her!
Guess through this inwardly open door who might disappear?
It's nature before the scientist on ultimate discovery of the matter!  

Aligning with her down the rainbow up high the land absorbs
the grooming sky looking on the running rivers within her.
Her words spread through like the smart cloud that flies far
over the lands and valleys but not even the wind none other
gets a sniff of the potion and melody it caries until that rain down
without a hurdle without a visual she moves on at the target
such a soul needs no after death lift from the angel of death.

Before Azrael Fathima loses the arc of the circle then and there
so not the earth but giant Azrael can take the pressure!
Marked by a fluid discharge since then she is cooling this fire
In Shaa Allah God willing when she ajars it will be elixir!  

Draw a straight line, but it won't be perfect
it keeps bending, fly straight touching the sky
the flight path won't look like a straight line
it would be like the crest of a crescent moon
like curve touched the sky, like climbing up
atop the pyramid is not going high straight on
it goes up from the widespread seked slopes.

Like the stock market chart moves never
in straight lines but in a zigzag pattern.
Move big but start small, the golden ratio
is always 1.618 something is never the full 2
but gives the formula to design flawlessly on the go
from micro to macro level all the way to the true north!    

Fathima being the original feminine eyeing at her
she can tap in the knowhow of naturally feminine nature.
And discovers the immanent pattern - the world
is pre-designed and measured is never a coincidence.
The creatures' creativity, scientist's science
is to follow, discover working formulas like phi and pi.

Play along it works until an unknown hour strikes
comes with accurate knowledge dead on time
numerically correct never miss taking life away
as if it was calculated beforehand before the birth.
A newborn is born for a limited time
already set but no one knows when it goes up  
is a deadlock clock but it isn't so shrouded
in the blueprint of the creatures' grand design
there the clock ticks safe and sounds it never dies!  

Fathima hailing from the other side of the pool
eyes on the ever live pre-design side of the creation!
Then its corporeal face was only a water drop,
the primitive one looks see-through but dead zero
knowledge of its lively other side of the pool.
She comes closer and perfectly mirrors both sides
that shines through on her reflected face on the water.
An absolute new image that livens up the dead part
Bang - Big Bang! It gets the spark for the corporeal world
to explode out from the very first drop of the water!

The appearance of Fathima was miraculously instrumental
by the grace of God, it showed up the finite and infinite, 0 and 1,
future in the present and the death and life on the play!
Nature tends to follow suit it just saw the perfect role model
it moved big bang, but banged out only to its corporeal set!
A far cry from being at par symmetrical with its infinite reality
like the precursor image of it's Big Bang that it aspires to be!

Fathima leaves the door open elevating a perfect circle,
not a straight line, follows the pattern to take the variations
into account in the very first matter, the water drop.
She zooms in more into the abyss irrational portion
and aces the circle with her hair leaving a muslin fine
empty open zero at the starting point at the bottom.
The ocean of the pi digits, the DNA of all things material
banged out of it, still, the zero is numberless irrational!

All things, within oneself and in a set constantly vibrate,
strive to align with the enduring reality of itself.
The atom vibrates to reach out to its immortal portion
that doesn't die and is in the know of its lower base.
The planets are in a defined circular orbit, accurately measured
just the apex on top of their dynamic pyramid the pyramidon
is tucked away; they too have an irrational portion in the circle.

With the finest spin, they zoom in the spacious universe,
in part and like the sun outside the constellations round they go
never miss a target line yet to re-discover Fathima's perfect circle
the origin of their digital essences' breakthrough
the door to their transcended destination de jour.
Lo the matter turns the last stone pulsing across the cosmos
the mortal horizontal spread, the spirit returns home.

The earth has a line in its swansong it has a place in paradise
it's not here to stay for good neither to perish forever!

Matters form and break without losing the rope,
it's not to paint the shades of the eternal blue.
There is just an irrational portion in the circle
at the heart of the earth, as above, so below.  
The deep the high the perfect circle
up and down the centre of gravitation for all!

At even and at odd the vibration within the matter is fluid
somewhere is parched there the arch matter must make a splash.
Far away on that dark beach, the full-fledged sea of the matters
outpours its billowy potion with the Moon on the frontline
the physical world's most glowed up firefly!

The seven seas swell up smoothly into the moonlight-dip
oh, the waterless Moon at the core is still fasting.
Led by the time the sweet swan punting along the waves
streams down the watery inner circle of the planets.
In the Moon, it's stuck no water in the last waterfront
where paradise is on the other side of the pool!  

The sun dips away into the night
bathing the horizon in shades of pink and gold,
the dazzling hues soon turn to taupe.
Drawing down painting the picture in full colour
only to find the time is up on the halfway,
yet to print a colour copy of the night!
The other unseen half is passed down to the Moon
tiptoeing in slow motion in the depths of the night
barely keeping the head afloat in a fathomless ocean
of shades of black hails from where knows none.  

The sun enkindles the moon half-lit keeping itself away
in the shadow as if comparing the shades now it knows
a mehrem a veiled female is ahead not to look on or
compared to that the sun has no light or true are both.

Wrapt in the eternal night beneath its black mole
once the moon on the front approaching most close
directly down to the centre of the earth eyes on
over that inlaid string hairy black perfect circle
never did it turn back the same gaze is still on
orbiting around the earth in synchronous rotation.

The never-ending night, becoming a night indeed
it's coming to an end so soon in our time.
In Shaa Allah I will see it with my eyes before I die
in the Night of Measures in an odd night in Ramadan
Fathima from the transcendental end of irrational heart
will turn on top of the curve opening for the first time
a 9-degree angle in the circle at the centre of the earth.

Instantly the leading force, time will get the first sniff
of the other world, so peaceful heart-melting serene.
Rapturous time feeling an ounce of the enduring peace
for the first time cutting all the corners with ease
will be propelled into its yet uncharted golden mean.
Scurrying to the peaceful abode time will be on its wings
across the globe, people will be stunned seeing
how first the times pass from then on incredibly quick!

Fathima, the first spiritual woman on duty, will start
pulling her hair back off the circle at the centre
Juxtaposed in between the worlds of here and hereafter.
She will take back every inch of it, the heavenly bodies
will feel the pinch of her every little subtle pull
that too will be a boon helping them perfect their circle.

Soon she opens it just 9-degree wide at first
the Moon will see a glimpse of the first drop of water.
Without it, it's living perched without the water of life
that's destined to rain down soon and the Moon
back into its original pond shall revive!
Mapping the pi's whole infinitesimals playground
finally, Fathima will turn the circle upside down
before the stunning sun rising in the western sky!

By now under Fathima's hair's shaded closed circle
it must have sailed far over the blue sky in the other world.
Billowing with the breeze over the sea of uncharted water
and stacking to the brim with all that it could discover
humbly stood like a cloud in that corner of the sky.

The time is finally ticking fast to rain down with love
paradise's welcoming schema rendering in waterpaint drops
on the Moon over the sea of matters, that's most glowed up firefly
ah, finally can break the fast sipping in a drop of elixir!
It's their heavenly adopted, Miʿrāj performed, primitive water.
The Moon with the seven seas will leave off the corporeal shell
gliding gracefully with this stately water nymph as if it never dies
and will make a splash plopping into the pond of paradise!  

For the matter ultimately is water and its extent is sound
Fathima will fetch it the water of life and take it to the next life!
Oh, the matter shall do both die and revive with Israfil's sound
the cloud will fly out of the dead water on the ground,
like the earth with chorus songs of the rain revives.
When that a melodious nymph in the water makes waves
see paradise is here the Moon over the sea can't take off its eyes.

Hang on though they all set ready on their horizontal span  
to pull in such a fluid yet colourful descending like a rainbow swan.
First chaste Fathima will evaporate her hair's perfume away
that's yet lingering in the water warming it up to its premium
no crowd then can see where this heady, fragrant cloud will fly!
There are the momentum and delights where that will alight.

Israfil might then blow his trumpet swooning the world away
the secret will remain secret exception is noted in the Qur'an.
A strange sound will silence the chorus of the innate digits
collapsing the floating cosmos bubbling on their music.  
The corporeal circle will collapse as if there is no base no pi
the melody of the first word Qun means Be will still be loud
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious so how can we all expire?

Israfil too will play his reviving trumpet pure mellifluous
and In Shaa Allah numerically perfect Fathima will rise
amidst the resonant Qun as like she did in the beginning
when except prophet Muhammad (PBUH) there was nothing!
Now the earth once zeroed in beneath her hair will follow her
the stunned terra will discover Fathima took her hair away
only to shift the constellation up onto the upper world!

The old songs of the planets the chorus of the digits will revive
from the zero bases in the core the digital panache that dance
planet upon the planet as if they are always at the perfect hertz.

Indeed that is yet to come, the arts of the fine layers
opening from the irrational pi, the finest one is to flower
when Fathima will unloop her circled hair at the centre
piercing the very immanent irrational cut
that no creation can fathom only the loving creator Allah
will turn odd to even in between the here and hereafter
then the ocean stuck in deep salt shall turn to enduring potion!
The As-Sirat shall turn to be the bridge to paradise
the body shall revive with the enduring soul forever
and with ah Fathima couple shall enter paradise In Shaa Allah
with the rhapsody 'all praise is for Allah' Alhamdulillah!
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2018
On the very edge the living earth
dared to replicate Queen Fathima
The Queen of Heaven’s footstep.
That way is blessed bedewed
is the destination de jour
graced by thousands of prophets of God!

In the name of Allah she descended
on the Night of Ascension.
From the Night of Measures unlike the rest
none can enumerate it yet an unnumbered zone
in the perfect geometrised transcended location.  

The earth steps in the gap making way for her:
The only asymmetric golden ratio
slips out to the symmetric prophet flock!
Sequenced in symmetric phi she moves on
in the veil, reveals her unique divine relation,
the front burner for sure is ever closer to God!

So pretty classy she is the paragon work of art
the sunrise amidst the eternal night.
Her beauty in her shadow is burning fire
she is 'Zahra' pure light the luminary dynamo
the only one woman had no shadow!

The great women flocked and mirrored the earth
treading across every atom on that angle
perfectly aligned down the Moon.
Until those beneath the skin atoms
bang, explode, on approaching the behemoth,
the vibration beneath Fathima’s foot!

The ocean billows up
feels life on the high
floating on the clouds.
Choreographed like a little dew
hanging low on the rose.
Just to drop down on that hot spot
like a cool honey drop.

Even the Moon on the horizon
fancies to sip from this drop.
Ah, the lunar punter is rowing down.
The sleeping beauty wakes up
eyes are on the moonlight silver dance.
Eying on every star in the night
the Moon is floating down.
The seven seas sing out in the dark
bubbling with exuberant fireflies
that would gleefully rock the moonlight boat
over to the cup of this pretty little drop.  

Poetry in motion is a sea on the ground
the same is known as the Moon in the sky!
The storylines jump ever more
on that way over the shady grove.
Painting the colour of the winds
the sky rains down on that spot
singing the sweetest title song.  

Never was a woman prophet of God
to the one primitive woman, the leading lady
'Sayeedatun Nessa' Queen Fathima
heaven is no secret, it is an open mirror!
For her heaven is made an open book
the first batch of houris came to be
tuning into mellifluous sounds of her toes.
The earth in its primitive water first moved on
bang, Big Bang, soon she drops in it her hair lock.
She's the hidden gem in the secret end of God!

For the planetary ebb and flow on the way heaven
the planet earth is the only stepping stone.
No matter how many times it tries on
there will still be an unturned stone.
Until the very one the original woman,
the Queen Fathima steps on.

Her presence connects the dots
the nadir and zenith perfectly line up
intersect into one grand perfect circle.
She will close it with the pi once for all
without a gap spilling new decimal.
Putting it all on the map ‘as above, so below’,
all in all, like it's in pure scientia scenario.

Heaven will open its grand door
where the queen will stand on.
No more reverse engineering physically
the original, Fathima will step on,
on the last turned stone.
From the one great woman
paradise starts from here on
from beneath the mother’s foot!
Josh Hall Mar 2014
What do I do?
What do I do?
I'll ******* break them,
The storm I've made drapes them!
The specters don't listen if you don't lead them to their tombs,
A *******'s Satan-son lets his voice echo and loom.
All the times I look at you,
"What's wrong with you?"
"We're ******* through!"
Let it go!
It's nothing new!
And we're all ******!
Can't let it go,
Blow over the band,
The pain will fall down with the sand,
Just let it go,
And tell me that you know,
To drop it!
Drop it!
Forget it all!
Watch the fall!
Watch you drop it!
Drop it!
******* all,
Drop it!
Let me sail on through,
Then notice the pretty view,
The tempest on the wake,
Is brewing an underworld earthquake,
Let fire reimburse me,
Let go for your own sake,
Tell me that your life's not at stake.
So move on!
Drop it!
I'm stuck with the ones who will never understand,
Reality is fragile,
Reality's in demand,
You want your salvation?
Take this plan,
Take this gun,
Take the trigger,
To your skull,
Release your specters to the world,
Or you could get off your ***,
Point the gun where it belongs,
Then they might drop it.
Sang this for my friends and they loved it! One dude told me I need Jesus (U.U)
Joshua Penrod Jun 2016
I fall
Down Down Down
I fall infinitely
I am and continue to bask in the revelation of gravity's honest pull

Drop Drop Drop
Down Down Down
Fall Fall Fall
I find honesty In the moments where I grasp nothing
When I come face to face with decision, obligation
The things I cherish most

Drop Drop Drop
Down Down Down
I Fall Fall Fall
In anticipation of the very bottom
I see not what awaits at the end of my decent
Drop Drop Drop

“Fall” -JP
Steven J Kelly May 2017
I could hear a pin drop then...respect
I opened my ears lest we forget.
The People that died for no unearthly reason.
Terrorist **** should be hanged for treason.

I could hear a pin drop.
to the deathly silence.
I opened my heart....
To the sound of sirens.
People injured or badly maimed.
22 Innocents the police have named.

I could hear a pin drop
no one is there.
Evil ******* that didn't really care.
Living in fear from day to day.
Propaganda words they chose to say.

I could hear a pin drop
…Death all around.
I opened my eyes to the sights and the sounds.
People trying to hide their fears
People crying Crocodile tears.

I could hear a pin drop
so let us prey.
It was In the name of religion
or so they say.

I Could hear a pin drop
but I didn't know where.
The stench of death
you could smell in the air.

When I heard the pin drop
I could smell that stench.
Just like the old ***** asleep on the bench.
Families with loved ones that forever have gone.
We're mancunians and we carry on.

© COPYRIGHT Kellywood Productions 2012-17 All Rights Reserved.
Ana S Apr 2016
One drop
Two drop
Three drop
Four drop
Five drop
Six drop
Seven drop
Eight drop
Nine drop
That wasn't rain.
It was my tears.
The tears that pour from hurting people.
I don't know anymore lol.
Random poem

— The End —