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"zahra" poems
Pi, at the end of its endless decimals' grandeur, meets a human being—who holds a mirror! Until now, the number, knowing only sway, has been lost in discovery’s polished way. No more: it begins—on a human—in front of its eye. Patterns and unique precision, patternless waves, new math tides soar, pivot at the cosmos' height, only to bag the ultimate truth: Fathima—the first spiritual woman—mooned there first! Fathima steps forward where nature falls behind, across the dead end, the irrational chasm she strides. For the cosmos' deep mind, Earth, the ocean is but a drop; the rope to the top is the lead—the feminine Fathima’s lock! Raw Fathima moves; in shadow, nature follows, clustering atoms span between the two, only to witness her encrypted, secured fashion— intact, uncharted, yet fully functioning, in Makkah and Medina, while she lived. The red fairies at midday’s spot-on, the black swans arching rainbows in wonder— marvel how Fathima deduces, straw by straw, the maestros’ dream of ascension, potion-polished, taking Ma pauses in liminal crescendos, between past and future, here and hereafter—a circular duo. Limning out chiaroscuro in light and shadow— nothing like it exists, in plain sight or the world in toto! Rainbows shaded in, sparking out, the scent of roses in her veiled black hair: the cosmos anew glinting off her edge, deeper quintessence than dark matter! The blueprint, the intelligent pre-design, rests in her elements. The breakthrough exponent—hidden in her eyes. Yet beyond the masses’ gaze, she remains Zahra—light upon the original way. Truly, only one feminine form has reached across the other end of the cosmos' endless highway, zooming past nature’s hidden gems—the irrational Pi, the complex chasm—a mathematical goldmine. Beyond the masses’ eyes and their painted canvases, shine the daylight and the glowing fireflies of the night. Viva Mankind! Fathima is the Moon at the highest high!
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Dec 12, 2021
Dec 12, 2021 at 11:53 PM UTC
Fathima The First Spiritual Woman and Shadow Nature
Pi, at the end of its endless decimals' grandeur, meets a human being—who holds a mirror! Until now, the number, knowing only sway, has been lost in discovery’s polished way. No more: it begins—on a human—in front of its eye. Patterns and unique precision, patternless waves, new math tides soar, pivot at the cosmos' height, only to bag the ultimate truth: Fathima—the first spiritual woman—mooned there first! Fathima steps forward where nature falls behind, across the dead end, the irrational chasm she strides. For the cosmos' deep mind, Earth, the ocean is but a drop; the rope to the top is the lead—the feminine Fathima’s lock! Raw Fathima moves; in shadow, nature follows, clustering atoms span between the two, only to witness her encrypted, secured fashion— intact, uncharted, yet fully functioning, in Makkah and Medina, while she lived. The red fairies at midday’s spot-on, the black swans arching rainbows in wonder— marvel how Fathima deduces, straw by straw, the maestros’ dream of ascension, potion-polished, taking Ma pauses in liminal crescendos, between past and future, here and hereafter—a circular duo. Limning out chiaroscuro in light and shadow— nothing like it exists, in plain sight or the world in toto! Rainbows shaded in, sparking out, the scent of roses in her veiled black hair: the cosmos anew glinting off her edge, deeper quintessence than dark matter! The blueprint, the intelligent pre-design, rests in her elements. The breakthrough exponent—hidden in her eyes. Yet beyond the masses’ gaze, she remains Zahra—light upon the original way. Truly, only one feminine form has reached across the other end of the cosmos' endless highway, zooming past nature’s hidden gems—the irrational Pi, the complex chasm—a mathematical goldmine. Beyond the masses’ eyes and their painted canvases, shine the daylight and the glowing fireflies of the night. Viva Mankind! Fathima is the Moon at the highest high!
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You're a bully Yet so silly. In my naked eyes, You're so pretty. Your name is gorgeous, Everytime i remember you, I got so nervous. Small Terrible Clever And Irresistible You're wearing sneakers And so hot in red. When you flash a smile, You're like an angel in disguise. Having you Is like lightning candle in the rain And this heart of mine, Is raedy for the pain. Fatima Zahra In your palace you are the queen. I may not be your king, But a slave of yours may be my dream.
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 1:56 AM UTC
fara
My quivering fingers dance on the ivory of piano You come swirling in front me Dressed in white My angel of light I'm no longer scared of the long night You gently kiss my forehead I forget about everything but the gleam of love in your eyes With your essence by my side, I'll once again rise No more tears and no more silent cries We'll live a happily ever after in every life - Zahra Sherazie
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Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 2:13 PM UTC
The Gleamy Ivory of Love
Pi, at the end of its endless decimals' grandeur, meets a human being—who holds a mirror! Until now, the number, knowing only sway, has been lost in discovery’s polished way. No more: it begins—on a human—in front of its eye. Patterns and unique precision, patternless waves, new math tides soar, pivot at the cosmos' height, only to bag the ultimate truth: Fathima—the first spiritual woman—mooned there first! Fathima steps forward where nature falls behind, across the dead end, the irrational chasm she strides. For the cosmos' deep mind, Earth, the ocean is but a drop; the rope to the top is the lead—the feminine Fathima’s lock! Raw Fathima moves; in shadow, nature follows, clustering atoms span between the two, only to witness her encrypted, secured fashion— intact, uncharted, yet fully functioning, in Makkah and Medina, while she lived. The red fairies at midday’s spot-on, the black swans arching rainbows in wonder— marvel how Fathima deduces, straw by straw, the maestros’ dream of ascension, potion-polished, taking Ma pauses in liminal crescendos, between past and future, here and hereafter—a circular duo. Limning out chiaroscuro in light and shadow— nothing like it exists, in plain sight or the world in toto! Rainbows shaded in, sparking out, the scent of roses in her veiled black hair: the cosmos anew glinting off her edge, deeper quintessence than dark matter! The blueprint, the intelligent pre-design, rests in her elements. The breakthrough exponent—hidden in her eyes. Yet beyond the masses’ gaze, she remains Zahra—light upon the original way. Truly, only one feminine form has reached across the other end of the cosmos' endless highway, zooming past nature’s hidden gems—the irrational Pi, the complex chasm—a mathematical goldmine. Beyond the masses’ eyes and their painted canvases, shine the daylight and the glowing fireflies of the night. Viva Mankind! Fathima is the Moon at the highest high!
0
Apr 25, 2025
Apr 25, 2025 at 9:58 PM UTC
Fathima The First Spiritual Woman & Shadow Nature
Pi, at the end of its endless decimals' grandeur, meets a human being—who holds a mirror! Until now, the number, knowing only sway, has been lost in discovery’s polished way. No more: it begins—on a human—in front of its eye. Patterns and unique precision, patternless waves, new math tides soar, pivot at the cosmos' height, only to bag the ultimate truth: Fathima—the first spiritual woman—mooned there first! Fathima steps forward where nature falls behind, across the dead end, the irrational chasm she strides. For the cosmos' deep mind, Earth, the ocean is but a drop; the rope to the top is the lead—the feminine Fathima’s lock! Raw Fathima moves; in shadow, nature follows, clustering atoms span between the two, only to witness her encrypted, secured fashion— intact, uncharted, yet fully functioning, in Makkah and Medina, while she lived. The red fairies at midday’s spot-on, the black swans arching rainbows in wonder— marvel how Fathima deduces, straw by straw, the maestros’ dream of ascension, potion-polished, taking Ma pauses in liminal crescendos, between past and future, here and hereafter—a circular duo. Limning out chiaroscuro in light and shadow— nothing like it exists, in plain sight or the world in toto! Rainbows shaded in, sparking out, the scent of roses in her veiled black hair: the cosmos anew glinting off her edge, deeper quintessence than dark matter! The blueprint, the intelligent pre-design, rests in her elements. The breakthrough exponent—hidden in her eyes. Yet beyond the masses’ gaze, she remains Zahra—light upon the original way. Truly, only one feminine form has reached across the other end of the cosmos' endless highway, zooming past nature’s hidden gems—the irrational Pi, the complex chasm—a mathematical goldmine. Beyond the masses’ eyes and their painted canvases, shine the daylight and the glowing fireflies of the night. Viva Mankind! Fathima is the Moon at the highest high!
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41
Name, that one entity; a source of tranquillity? I was asked, under a deep, night sky I named you, I cried to the wind, in front of you, no need of my any ability For the peace lies in the cores of the universe, You still choose an earthly body over the deities godly? I named you, I wrote it on the mesmerizing horizon The sky, the moon, the body you're given, You have no love for the sight that has.... you, imprisoned? His eyes, his body, his shoulders so dear! My sky, my moon, lies there..... my heaven! This world; a battlefield, are you obliged to be a knight? My arms have his power, in him; I find all my survivals The war will end, and you'll lean without an armor, how will you flight? Gian alone.... flies for once in the seasons, let me go back to the grounds of medieval You cling to the thoughts of flaws, the unlawful laws, and.... mere dreams; you draw I name you in the colors, with you.... I draw the utterance of oblivion Would you stop a poet from penning, a painter from painting, and a lover from love, I asked What you show to me, is a truth and not a facade -Zahra Batool ****
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May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 1:12 PM UTC
I named YOU
September 23 is for Harmony Yippee 23 plus 5 equals 28 The birthday of Allah's Prophet (PBUH), a most memorable date 2 plus 3 equals 5 days later, God hollers, Eid Milad Saeed, we're live Your birthday starting last night with a full moon shining bright I waved happy birthday with a schoolgirl's sincerity and you said back, A rainbow lunar halo, for some a symbol of harmony To the most honest man, the most trustworthy human Messenger Muhammad's full of Iman and taqwa, alive with stocks boomin A fighter against injustice, oppression, colonialism, imperialism, racism, sexism, any ill we name As Musa said, Somebody has to explain that paper money is the key threat in this game The Final Chosen One went low to get he and others high Talking God's words, speaking truth respectfully to help call girls get shy On 23, God said, Enter the world a bright smile Harmony On 28, Here comes good people to celebrate, a beautiful bumble bee A most lovely man, we shout for, Yay, she saying, Cheese His humble reply, Thank you. No, please Insisting we give thanks and show gratitude to the one who birthed The Prophet, Amina and to the ONE who created him and his daughter al-Zahra, Fatima God's dutiful servant urging us, More eggs in the basket for the akhirah and less in the basket for the dunya She too would say, your Siti Haneefah We're here today, September 28th already and tomorrow will soon be gone, no more a life An exuberant cheer, We love you dearest Prophet and your most beloved and favored wife For Ahmad, Hamid, Mahmud, the focus, the VIP today From a grateful student and from a thoughtful Auntie, this poem is for The #1 Muhammad and Harmony K By: Najwa Kareem
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Sep 28, 2023
Sep 28, 2023 at 7:19 PM UTC
Happy Birthdate, (23) plus 5 (28)!!
September 23 is for Harmony Yippee 23 plus 5 equals 28 The birthday of Allah's Prophet (PBUH), a most memorable date 2 plus 3 equals 5 days later, God hollers, Eid Milad Saeed, we're live Your birthday starting last night with a full moon shining bright I waved happy birthday with a schoolgirl's sincerity and you said back, A rainbow lunar halo, for some a symbol of harmony To the most honest man, the most trustworthy human Messenger Muhammad's full of Iman and taqwa, alive with stocks boomin A fighter against injustice, oppression, colonialism, imperialism, racism, sexism, any ill we name As Musa said, Somebody has to explain that paper money is the key threat in this game The Final Chosen One went low to get he and others high Talking God's words, speaking truth respectfully to help call girls get shy On 23, God said, Enter the world a bright smile Harmony On 28, Here comes good people to celebrate, a beautiful bumble bee A most lovely man, we shout for, Yay, she saying, Cheese His humble reply, Thank you. No, please Insisting we give thanks and show gratitude to the one who birthed The Prophet, Amina and to the ONE who created him and his daughter al-Zahra, Fatima God's dutiful servant urging us, More eggs in the basket for the akhirah and less in the basket for the dunya She too would say, your Siti Haneefah We're here today, September 28th already and tomorrow will soon be gone, no more a life An exuberant cheer, We love you dearest Prophet and your most beloved and favored wife For Ahmad, Hamid, Mahmud, the focus, the VIP today From a grateful student and from a thoughtful Auntie, this poem is for The #1 Muhammad and Harmony K By: Najwa Kareem
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