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Shofi Ahmed May 2017
Art, a smile like the one
on the face of Mona Lisa.
Curved like the waxing moon
above the sea.
Light a flame before a face
yet to be seen.
What will it prevail,
will it show once for all
a slow tilt on the smiling lips
—a curve softly locks on
a rose from the sun,
or a shadow beneath the moon?
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
Shofi Ahmed Jul 12
My sea is far away
let's meet under
the one same cloud.

My blue water
is for the sun.
I sing beneath the wave.

My rose
is for the show
I am imbued
in the fragrance.

My sky is open
hugs the earth and afar
beyond the rainbow
beyond the peacock's eyes.

Catch that too!
From beneath the blue
slips out a butterfly.
A poem from my upcoming book Qun: Love is Above Reason
Shofi Ahmed Jul 26
Dancing the billow in the sea
the cool one will show up
deep down from the deep
with the flute on the lips.

Listening to the flute on play
chorus clouds bang out
floating by the river blue
down the sky they sing.

Ambling with the wonder light
the sun draws in
from the secret valley
as if the punter in the sky
knew it, knows the flutist
rose from down the sea!

There is no stop in the solar disc.
Twirling around the inner music
every orb, every planet is a bee.

The waning and waxing Moon
in silhouette and at half-light
swings over the sea.

It’s all start from the ground
it was from our sea waterfront
Him the sweetheart in the midst
floated the leading light the bumblebee.
All the stars bubble in the galaxy
they know this ancient story!

Since then the brightest bulb
the sun in the solar ring  
leads the bunch’s mindful
butterfly dance on the way home.
Following the never-ending music
of the pre-design command ‘qun’ be!
A poem from my upcoming book Qun: Love is Above Reason
Marco Buschini Dec 2016
Into the wonderment of your autumnal mind.
Where the skin of your grief sheds its leaves.
Is the song of your sea bound into colourful light?
The Shepherd breaches the flock of your dreams,
And the pastures breathe a sigh of relief,
As your tears of morning dew
Glisten the parched landscape.
Does your bouquet of *****
Lay wistfully in the wilderness?
The skies of blue that reside in your eyes
Serenades the coming of the tide,
Harvesting the fruit of our labour of love.
Is this a wind of smile that turns into a voyage of valiancy?
A flock of thoughts liberated with a cry of exclamation
As your fears of autumn blue
Are exiled into the rapacious wind.
Shofi Ahmed Mar 2017
As wide open as the sea
as resonant as the waves
splashing on the beach.
For a moment or so I was
pondering so full as the sea
what has it left to tally
with as empty as the the beach?
Crystal eyes
Fall for them
Over
And over
Drown in oceans stormy grey
Lost in forests emerald green
To get ***** inside and snap away to sober

An underground lake cavern
A still, silver cargo ship docked by the bay
A sky and sea beyond the windows
2pm on a shady spring day



Catching a glint in the light
I find my teeth biting my thumb
Oh *** how I love to gaze
In what you use to gaze apon
Targeted towards absolutely anyone with eyes, at all
Shofi Ahmed May 2017
It streams down eye to the eye
from the unseen but the one is all seeing.

Far from the Mars far from the Neptune
skipping all the planets hanging in space
but on the cheek of earth, a drop of tear fell.

Every angel in the heavens' shore
has heard of this lore.
It’s spot on, mesmerising beautiful.
Far from the blue harbour sky
hunky dory is delighting to the eyes
the stunner is made to measure.

As if like a tear in the corner of the eye
diagonally weighed down
with the 360-degree open looking sky.
As close as within a fingertip comes the Moon
still, a sea is ahead forever untouchable!
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 took her by hand
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 Ascending once more!
This is a poem from my book Zero and One available on Amazon.
English Jam Aug 22
Before the screen turns to black
And the credits roll
And the curtain shuts
And there's no more control
I'd like to take a cigarette
To the parallel lines who never met and the spaces in between
And wish we'd never forget
The people painting the backdrop behind the scenes
Well, we'll always remember for a moment
The parting of Olympus and the gods making love above our heads
But the gods have all faced the court of age
And Apollo was torn by infinity on the stage
And the moment that we held in our hearts has blown over like the wind, kicked open like a door, caught fire and burned like a mountain
It's gone, love

I guess I have to pack my clothes
And cast out all my hopes
Drowning in the sour milk sea, where dreams are shell carcasses of suicide
The sour milk sea, a flash flood of regret curling into a tide
The sour milk sea, where the only texture your fingers touch is the acid guzzling from your ears
The sour milk sea, where the sailors wrap themselves in a blanket of jabs and jeers

         Time to fade away
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