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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 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!
lifeonLSD May 12
and when it falls
it drops down
losing all form of complexion
lost in boundless shapes
purely placed
in effortless waves


i see you
in perfection
Purely by chance, It was that we did meet though I had known her many years ago destiny had decided It was too early to
meet
so both went off our separate ways me to life as a loner
for I was to shy to ever take her out so Helen moved
away
And got married to a guy In the Air Force but he knew not how to treat her Helen had two children but he divorced her after making
ill
But despite all this Helen still won custody of her children
He did all of this to make her poorly so he could have Is
affairs
He got Helen sectioned under Mental Health act every time she came home to see her children and her
mother
He would have an ambulance outside ready to take her straight back but I took responsibility to care for Helen
I signed her release papers with the promise of taking care off her and that's exactly what I did until the day she sadly died but had the of life of life with
her
Helen and I met purely by chance having known her when we were kids but had drifted apart gone our separate ways
Shofi Ahmed Sep 2018
Bud of the winter dew on lips grow,
Snowy boughs surrounding began to unfold,
'Spring it shall flower' you must travel along, to see
When she will flower and in her very first glance,
Shall innovate the ether lapis-lazuli sky,
And the glamorous sun in her luminous dews,
She will cast her gaze towards the infinity,
And the veiled spring-night of tender full-moon,
With millions of star thriving, will be reflected upon;
She will whisper to the sleeping morning breeze,
And that will wake dancing the primrose's aroma,
Smoothly waving over the green meadows!

Who will let it be freely, purely, organic!
In whose innovate warm touch shall dissolve,
Poor winter's covering upon the earth,
Hence, once again green earth shall cast,
A glance to its vernal zenana,
Beneath the sunny sky wherein the air,
Shall sniff the aroma of the radiant rose,
And the birds shall tour around,
Singing the song of freedom!

Endure, yet she is beyond the gaze of the sky!
Now a season poor as she has flown away,
Gone to address the assembly of the Angels!
Therefore, accepting an invitation from the fairies,
To have a bath in their lotus-pool, prior to flight.
Hence, delighted fairies all flew to the palace,
To give the news to Queen Mab!

And soon a while after they return,
Around the pool, they greeted and sang,
The spring while she steps into the pool,
They sing and dance, hail the spring:

'The troublesome thorn mingled into itself,
The long ugly arm has collapsed pieces itself,
And the beauty has broken through!
Behold! The shining sun under her shadow!
The beauty by her grace fathomless,
Gorgeous she looks, rosy winsome!
Make all dance her awakening fragrance,
Tenderness she breaths, and caresses the bliss,
With a heart of endless love,
Vivifies the file, pleasant, dynamic!'

Meanwhile, the maid of honour came with the news,
They wanted to hear 'the Houris too shall join them.'
Yet they are flowering themselves alike as they gaze,
Upon the adoring scene of divine, winsome, paragon, fashions,
Impressionist hairs of the Queen of Paradise!
Where lay upon the Throne, and youthful streams,
Flowing, surrounded by, and canopied by the sky
Of glory garnished by the millions of the divine artisans!
There the sun care greatest and offers harvest lights,
And now, she comes to the streams, she shall swim.
Therein the never fading water-lily will please her sight,
She will listen to the divine birds of joyfulness,
Singing the songs of the blissful souls,
In the name of the all praiseworthy,
The perpetual Creator, Allah.
As she will innovate the songs,
And the innovative image of the eternal creations,
Will be bestowed upon the spring and all the houris,
Shall greet the spring as they will pour
Flowery rain over the fairies' pool!

Listen, the angels sing 'Lo, the spring, '
Again and again, as she dives into the fairie's pool,
And dips out up to the earth! See for yourself:
As youthful as ever with the sun shining on her forehead
And the day on her flowers, with her the earth is radiant
Her soil is perfumed, she belongs to paradise!
I gotta start thinking again,
I stopped but I can't remember when.

Absolute zero is colder than reality.
It would promote states of matter that break physicality:
Superconductivity is irresistible electrically,
Superfluidity is immeasurable in it's viscosity.

If bending the physics is possible, then
everything we know could be purely contextual.

Ah, that's when.
Pseudoscience wins again.
Nassif Younes Jun 2016
No two snowflakes are the same
But they're still only snowflakes.
Their unique qualities are purely superficial
And in the end they will all melt away into steam
So it's a good thing
That snowflakes
Have never let individuality
Go to their heads.
Little Bit Mar 2017
They said my lines were weak
So I learned not to speak
     I decided not to speak

Now the lines are stuck in my mind
Driving me insane
Stay in your lane

I'm a girl who loves to dance
Yet too afraid to give it a chance
Utterly bored with myself
Wishing to purely connect

Aching for
the courage
the tools
the words
To get out of this rut

All my ideas swirl into gray lines
That fill my mind
And fuel the emptiness
That keeps me from feeling alive
Left only with a penchant for pleasing

I just laugh it off
Then cry dry tears at night
Where did I go?
Can you see me?
I'm lost in the monotony
Can you save me?
Can I save me?
written 1/23/17
Kurt Carman Sep 2016
I dream a million fireflies transporting me to this space
A Moon shadow casts a light upon my face.
A Young boy dreaming of tight lines on this mountain stream,
Water droplets on frozen fly line, casts a prism sunbeam.

It's this time and special place that etches a constant memory,
Of Standing on that rock casting tight loops across the estuary.
Practice makes perfect as I make a presentation towards this riffle,
I can see a smile on my face, a moment in time that's purely transcendental.

With hope on the rise and a pheasant tail nymph tied to my tippet,
I make my way past the roily water to a calmer spot I'll inhibit.
Stripping line I load this feather chucker and place a nymph on the breezers nose
Zzzzzzz screams my reel and I scramble to fight this foe

As the snow begins to fall, I gaze upon this look of contentment in my eyes
And hover from above to watch myself learning to fly.
I whisper to myself, " Man life doesn't get any better than this",
As I kneel to release my catch, I watch him glide in to the abyss.

And at day's end I find myself walking beside the memory of Theodore, Lee and Jack,
Three mentors who showed me the way, part of my Wulff pack.
Some Say "if I fished only to capture fish, my trips would have ended long ago",
And now I have something that money can't buy, the gift of learning to fly.

-K.Carman 2016
In memory of the three men I admire so much..Theodore Gordon, Lee Wolff and Jack Hemingway. I've learned so much from the three of you. RIP and I hope all your lines are tight! FISH ON!
sophia Nov 2017
my love was like a delicate rose that blossomed so purely during the summer solstice. you’d spot it so easily in any garden that you’d think it was ordinary. as the days went by, it grew more and more unlike every other that loses petals quickly, even before the sun rises. its blossoming red coloured petals never flinched, nor dropped, not even an inch. every year it blooms beautifully just like the both of us.

you are my summer rose.
Dlusionl13 Apr 2018
Maybe it's the space between the future and past
A multiple choice question with options between right and wrong
Or a pendulum swinging between joy and sorrow
I think it's the book we write our lyrics on
Maybe our circumstances decide if it must be a happy or a tragic song

Maybe it's the dimension existing with the duality of reality and imagination
A beautiful muffler woven with intricate threads of truths and lies
Or the transition of night from dusk to dawn colouring the canvas of skies between sunset and sunrise
I think it is the journey of a cloud from vapours to rain
Maybe our fate decides if it must be a shade of black or purely white
chlorine Aug 15
we lived that October sunset.
shifting our mindsets
and pressing the reset,
you are the hug and kiss I'll never forget.
as free as the breeze,
a love that could cross seven seas
when you’re with me
it will flow purely with ease.
crunching the leaves
and picking apples off of the trees
what our mind perceives,
is truly guaranteed.  
we walked up the road
along the yellow line,
here,
I know that everything will be just fine.
this story-line is no crime,
it’ll be clear in a dime.
but for now,
I love you,
the raddest dad of all time.
A poem I wrote for my Dad! ****. figured I’d post on here because why not
Devil and evil are not one.
(“Hello, Lucifer...
The fun has just begun.”)
From evil one is to hide and run.
A good conscience says, “Put down the gun.”

The devil does not cause death;
Every choice has an effect.
Don’t blame the bad on Luci;
Have some respect.
Another soul is not responsible for how one will act.

The devil punishes for bad deeds.
Mr. Morningstar makes deals to help succeed.
So if one asks him for some weeds,
He will give one what he needs:
A garden, a shovel, and three seeds.
But he will call, and ask, and plead
For a favour back for the deal to come complete.
And one shall help to spare ingestion by hell’s heat.

Evil is purely man caused;
Lucifer watches man’s suffering in exhaust.
And hell’s pain happens over, and over
Till one feels nailed to the cross;
Till one is weak, and one is lost.
I was bored... kind of inspired by the show Lucifer, and Tom Ellis’ attractive face lmaoooo.

I’m sorry for the nonsense poem :)
Also, I’m not religious, and this poem has nothing to do with religion.
Umi Mar 2018
With a heavy sigh, I go to bed at night, laying down to finally rest,
Just to awake in my personal heaven, a realm of sweetness and bliss,
Flowers of all kinds, trees with angel trumpets bound to golden chain,
As the lilies are touched by a soft breeze, giving off their nice scent,
I spirit away to purely engage and sympathize with other but pure fury or the sadness which has been sealed within my heart since then,
Snowdrops and buttercups form a way to a single jasmine near a river of the purest water, which is alike a shining star, majesticly sparkling,
The sky is starlit, each in their orbit whilst the golden light of the sun still reaches through, warming my cold skin comfortingly, delicately,
Taking a seat I glance at what the table has presented before my eyes,
Sweets, with sour yet aromatised orange juice anda large cheesecake,
Then, suddenly, a single seagull draws near, weeping for affection,
Together with bunnies and bumblebees buzzing around the flowers,
Even now all the hummingbirds harmonise in a soft orchestra,
And no frightened creature cries, they draw together in happiness,
Yet I feel the absence of something which I hold very dear to me,
Because you my dear lover, remain as my sweetest dream

~ Umi
Poetria Nov 2017
I am bruises on your leg
I'm the backhand to your face
leaving marks, opening scars
showcasing your mistakes

so
much
pain,
so
much
pain.

light up this sky
let your fire burn this blackness,
set them off, stinging
and leave my heart ringing
with the silence surrounding
this gaping, empty space

so
much
pain,
so
much
pain.

(i push you away and i forget
but some days i look you in the eye;
it's coming back to me now)

it's back to *laughing as tears fall

it's back to shaking with fear
it's back to getting slammed into being
the smallest particle I could be


*I'm back to 9 on my birthday
or was it 8, I don't remember, 7

your fire flows
inside my blood now
something darker,
purely sinful

There is no more pain.

I have become everything you hate.
I've always loved winter.
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