poetry

poetry 6-25

Rezauddin Stalin

Bangladesh

Days of Crucifixion

Translated by: Kushal Bhowmick

(13)

Rising and sitting in the South-East, love with fire Gave birth to Jesus again in the angry Jerusalem

Nobody cares the pronunciation of plants With the organic sweat of the farmer No worries about the bowl's order of bread

This city belongs to them, the poets think He buys dreams in exchange of moon's currency He has a sky And a home inside He sleeps in the bed of air Take tea sitting on an ethereal chair He creates letters with fire And made poetry bycheese

There are no clouds in the sky of idiots The Lord does not touch the grain of their eyes They think all technology belong to their father Google vomits their wishes desires

There is no place for flies to go Only the roar of cockroaches Only the procession of ants Only the competition of abandoned garments The naked cry of notation at naked time All the clowns frauds are singing battle songs

(14)

All the watchmen guard the school in groups All children take lessons of stones All teachers aresentries of prison

(15)

The unprejudiced understands the SouthWest episode The organised anger opens the story of life

All the enthusiastic animals of departure land The children feeding the thirsty squirrel The hungry monkey is getting on shoulder And running away with biscuits The green trees of the island are singing The song of water scarcity The birds are taking of

days to come The sacrificial animals tied in front of the house are crying The dog, running with the Lord's car is panting The car, thinking it is the victim, chasing the Ping-Pong ball Rats were crushed while crossing the road The teenager is running after the butterfly in the park The crow is shouting that evening is coming Few vampires from an unknown place are entering theattic Rebel fish breaking the aquarium came to the road The rooster is chasing his partner for returning home

6

And the animals that are in the forest And the animals that are in the zoo And the animals that are guinea pigs And those who are reincarnated Terrible Horrible Inhuman Victims of miserable cruelty

(16)

This huge animal world is against compassion Participated in the revolution of change of days They came down the road Blood in every street The fragrance of gunpowder on the road The thirsty alphabet

Out of this bloody place Everyone is walking towards the promised land.

(17)

Upward and Downward: from ten directions The appendix comes in zigzag way

Now cotton is flying automatically from the eyes of cities Fluent smoke from the ears The city is being purified on the thorny beds of hospitals They are listening to the peddler's squeaking entreaty Vehicles suffering from pretend-fever are standing on one day Bread is turning on the wheels of the rickshaw Nose and ears of blood are keep rotating The cities are reclining in a relaxed memory The event dies on the very first day Rules the second day Cry dies on third day And the surprise on the fourth

Dreams of life are made with hunger Aspirations with waiting Panic with uncertainty

Now, no animals return home everyday No life is subject to notation No anger lasts in love

Our agitation is fried with thunder Blindness is created by love Breathing creates the tempest

(18)

Backbone is made with surprise Protests are with biasness

Here is not the end of everything Not even the beginning

And our poetry Not mere meaningless words

Courage

Don't think my darling— If someone gives you the sky I will give you the Sun. If he gives you the rain I will give you the tree, More precious than diamond. I will give you the fastest boat If anyone gives you the river.

Don't think my darling—

8

If someone lights a chandelier I will fill the path with starlight. If he gives you a golden nose-ring I will make the same with the rainbow. If someone gives an anklet I will give you the river's splosh.

Don't think my darling— If he promises you with a golden book Simply I will give you the alphabet Of my mother-tongue. If anyone gives you the worldwide house I will give you only a full-length sari Just to cover your hiddenorgans.

Translator: Ujjal Ghosh

Binoculars

Returns to helpless childhood as a horserider of memories When everything was worthy Peanut chocolate ice cream Till today the parakeet bought at the fair Comes and sits on the shoulder The lips are red as before Hot jelebi pulls tongue Keeps it long With a laugh Papad breaks in my palm Binoculars bought with a little savings Look around in ecstasy And with the magic of the jinns How amazing everything becomes big Man-nature Everything exists on the continent of memory The moon still goes to sleep In my pocket The sun rises late in the west Even today, newspaper headlines are tied to a hook wireless binoculars of Jessolin are printed in new stars But I’m looking for what I bought in my teenage years That’s the infallible telescope once again I will see everything big Man and nature

Rezauddin Stalin

Rezauddin Stalin is a well-known poet in Bangladesh and beyond and is born on 22nd November 1962 in Jessore, Bangladesh. He has done his Bachelor's degree in Economics and MA in Political Science from Dhaka University. He is the former Deputy Director of Nazrul Institute where he was employed for 35 years. Stalin’s poems got translated in most languages in the world and he is also a wellknown TV anchor and media personality in Bangladesh. Stalin is the founder and chairman of the Performing Art Center and is also the senior editor of Magic Lonthon - a literary organization. He has received many awards and some accolades are: Darjeeling Natto Chokhro Award India(1985), Bangla Academy (2006), Micheal Modhushudhan Dutta Award (2009), Shobho Shachi Award West Bengal (2011), Torongo of California Award USA(2012), Writers club Award California USA (2012), Badam Cultural Award California USA (2012), City Ananda Alo Award(2015), West Bengal, India, Centre Stage Barashat Award (2018), Journalist Association Award UK (2018) and Silk Road Poet Laureate Award Xi’an China (2020).

Dr. Suresh Chandra Sarangi

India

The art of painting

When you paint a tree, the tree tell yousomething. The tree gives you It's significance. The beauty of it, the quietness, the movement, The shades, the depth and the shape. The flutter of a leaf all tell you something, and you paint, you don't merely copy a leaf, but you want to express the feeling of the tree. But in expressing , If your mind compares Your work with one of a great painter, Then you cease to paint. Dr. Minti Gogoi

India

Voice of Hard Time

It is really a hard time for me As I am suffering from three

I am suffering from Deep depression Illness Change of mental conditions. My thoughts are blowing Happiness to sorrow Fortune to misfortune Love to hatred Friendship to enemy

There is no freedom to speak Fresh air to breath Clean water tto drink And asustainabke place to live

How can I say? I am on my way As you are not with me How can I keep Good faith on my deeds?

Esteem frustration makes me spritless How can I get Absotute Bless?

Bijayalaxmi Rath

India

Our own time

"It is our own happy time, Without interference let's shine" My love's passionate love note Soars my soul up and up. Makes me forget the world's rotation Reach to your world without hesitation. Freeze my time with a wink Squeeze to my love in a blink. Passionate embrace with sweet kisses Love grows deep in night's silence. Night glitters to its most Love lamps dazzle with lots of hope. Melancholic silence speaks a lot Demands our heart's love utmost. Merging with feelings and emotions Loving hearts turn each other's potion.

Dr. Sahadev Behera Leena Rajan

India

Promise

India

Resilience after falls

Promise is not a single word in the dictionary , It has it's own power and functionary.

It carries the meaning of sense of trust and belief, That is a high quality of condition to keep for relief.

It's anoathand bond withwords of heart, Never destroy the faith between or part.

It's a commitment to keep the words for a period of time, And it also a hard task to intake as a lime.

Everything in the world, tie up with a promise, To allow all the action and reaction as in wise.

Swear to do the things or pay as you decide, Never betraye anybody to die or suicide.

Promise is an agreement to do with collaboration, We can say honour of word, parole or revelation.

It is a bit of condition to bid and assertion, To winthe challenge with strongaffirmation.

We promise to help others, be kind, and love with respect, That makes our life happiness and live with perfect. Sun after night, brightly comes out with light oflife and hope, Succumbs, if it to failure, no day will follow, with life's scope. Spring lacks blossoms and leaves, if river is ever dried up, So is its disability to invite rain forming clouds of water drop.

Which river is on Earth that never dries up, and trees never whither, Which day is there without night, following brilliant rays' shower? World would have been in darkness and in dryness due to lack of water, Water from rains creates leaves to trees that give shades in summer.

If we cannot remember our failures, we have lost greatest of Gurus, Ingenious lessons learnt from Gurus like, faults, unfulfilment and mistakes, If we change our outlook, with resilience, we are uplifted, after failures, Imitating sunshine, the gold to be found on Earth, after darkness.

10

Elizabeth M. Cahimbing

Tarlac - Philippines

Rain

My heart flooded in tears Left me without a word over the years I was like drifted apart from soaking rain Exhausted and all my tears went down to drain Like rain keeps pouring down on my cheek Tormented heart, let me fix the leak Walking through rain dispels my uncertainty Crashing the pains of immaturity A rainbow of hope appears in a complacent mood Strikingly silhouetted against sullen mood Lungi Shigo Msusa

Sauth Africa Victory is green now

Time in an hourglass As beautiful things pass They're slowly falling to grave Leaving so much one can save

Ozone layer is dying on our watch Our survival, a gaseous death trap Industrial revolution, manmade suicide Layer by layer we chasing doomsday

Fourth industrial revolution when, who; Global warming, who's really responsible; Oxygen is getting less and less, why; Green gas emulsion, decades away why;

Inquisitive child who's answering you; Greedy skull who's money is it anyway; Tell me why your oxygen gas tanks visible; Ventilated underground hideouts why;

Save the children wings of existence Greedy skull has ate the apple of sin Digging wealthy resources started a never ending dark revolution, victory is green now Dusmanta Choudhury

India

Her Golden Tresses

Her love, in her heart shall dwell For the noble cause of life's fuel Knowing all that so glitters here From the sky,her voices I do hear

Neither the storm nor hurricane No dark, no light,but God's feign Beholds she all , but stands still Finds no alteration, at any thrill

Drinks bitter juice,draws a smile On her rosy lips,none can revile What a soul that God ever made As a blue lotus in a holly cascade

Flows a dulcet in her holly voice Fail all sweet lyrics,her to rejoice No poet so tries to reveal her wit Unravished is her lore's every bit

Tumbles often her golden tress About her face as nimbus bless Gathering all beauties in life & soul None on earth can ever her cajole

Sherife Allko Sugar Zedna

Albania

My childhood

Philippines

Ponder

In the meadows and pastures, free running like a beautiful laurel. I forgot the lawns where the cattle grazed on the wet grass. With my little breasts, collecting daisy flowers, primrose.

Eh!I do not know what song murmuring in silence with my childish lips, but I know I always sang happily, and my eyes shone endlessly.

Sleep gripped me under the walnut tree that whispered like a sleepy lullaby, when I woke up, I was looking for my mother through tears and sobs.

One day passed, others passed, and I have hair with a combon my shoulder, I left for the field to work like a little farmer together with my grandfather, my uncles.

And the years went by one by one, how fast I grew and gained weight. I remember them with a lot of nostalgia my childhood years, where the eyes they shone like stars in the sky.

Now my childhood, I see it in my grandchildren. In life, We are hurled With daily battles

Some we thought We'd never win

But as we ponder

Meek sages gain.

Roaring rogues lose.

A witty and cautious Approach to any challenge Is our first line of defense. Before we grab our spears And aim at our foes.

12

As mighty leaders profess: All's that the psyche envision, The physique can accomplish.

Meditate. We might need to examine our innate enemy first... Ourselves.

Mahanaj Parvin

Bangladesh Mahanaj Parvin

Feel

Bangladesh Simte

My thoughts take care of you, Your presence in the letter of thought, A thousand colors of love story fly, My thoughts pick up on your memory.

But why are your thoughts soinconsistent? Why is there so much dust in the body of thought? Who chains the legs of thought! Who robs your thoughts! Gândurile mele au grijă de tine, Prezența ta e-n litera gândului O mie de culori ai unei povești de dragoste zboară Gândurile mele se adună pe memoria ta.

Dar de ce gândurile tale sunt atât de inconsecvente? De ce-i atâta praf întrupul gândului? Cine leagă picioarele gândului! Cine jefuiește gândurile!

Translated by Bogdana Găgeanu Dasharath Naik

Traducere de Bogdana Găgeanu

India

United we stand

Forgetting all the narrowness Let's be one and united; We are but one race, Humanrace ; Do realise This.

Ego, Racism , Casteism, Regionalism etc All 're means to make Us fall undoubtedly;know it. United we stand'nd divided We fall ; truly said it is; Terrorismterrible Kills enmasse,lo; Humanity At risk.

Save Yourself; Saving mankind Urgent need of hour Forget not;play yo'r role Make world a united whole.

14

Mihai Katin

Hiden faces

Hiden faces Yes, hidden faces We each own them, We make them like a strange spider He weaves inside Strange canvases, In which the words and faces of the world are caught Fragments of souls and hurried steps, Faces we show discreetly, Involuntarily or knowingly, Perverted or cynical! When the everyday face, The one we'll freeze with one day at the end of the line He has to stay away, From that gregarious instinct To survive and win! The faces of fear, hatred, perversio Anguish, Forbidden Pleasures, Greedy nonsense, Rapacity and sadism! Few hidden faces are innocent, Forgiving or sensitive, Or if they are they remain so hidden So hard to find them! Even if in a fit of guilt We still want to wear them They are lost! Maybe forever! Because we can't wait to unlock it Those childish doors Those doors of tears and love Because there are so many sentimental surrogates So that the faces of light They're useless, We wear the right ones Urban jungle! And we feel like carnivores Run on behalfof our progress, Towards the last desert, In which hidden faces They will fall one after another, Like blind snake skins What else is he looking for? The last drop of rain… Ramina Herrera

Peru

Night

In the absolute circles and squares darkness alittle light it sneaks through the crack

at some point, as I do not know I only know that it is light start to light up my eyes that every time they observe better, I see the atoms the thoughts the air the mystery

Mili Das

Kolkata India Shanta Farjana

I will back

Bangladesh

Eyes

I have to win this fight. Death scares me all the time. But I wouldn't be afraid. Society is scaring me. People are scaring me. The government is scaring me. All the news channels are scaring me. If I keep my eyes on the newspaper, i can only see the fire of the furnace is burning. We don't know when this fire will be extinguished? But I don't get scared so easily. No one is giving me courage. I made myself brave.

When someone scares me, I sing,i dance,i read and write. Whenever I have time , I talk with my poetry. And smiles like crazy with joy. No one can keep me well, Only I can keep myself well.

If the body doesn't accompany me, I know my mind will accompany me. I must return after winning this epidemic. I'll be back. I have to win this fight and I have to. Every human being has three eyes Two eyes;everyone can see Two eyes;can see everything But, in the deepest corner of the mind That third eye does not know how to blink Not everyone can see that eye That eye never cries Never laughs Never becomes gloomy Always stays silent

The eye is vibrant in the bend of everyone's heart wave.

Robbers third eye is blind; Can't see the wailing of the people. The eyes of some doctors are trickish; As it’s the matter of amused; patient bended by test-drug as burden. The eye of a few unborn men believes in magical powers; 24 hours finding the triangle inside of the woman. And, the eyes of the publicrepresentative are empty! They have no past-history, no futureconsciousness. They just drop their hands and feet to fulfil the current bag.

And that hiding eye of a woman; Sometimes desert Sometimes sea Sometimes a reeling hurricane However, not everyone can see it... Because, not everyone sees...

Sudha Dixit Radhika Tytler

India

There’s Reason To Betray

India

Lonesome but content

16

I am so sorry my love! With a heavy heart I say I must bid you goodbye I cannot here stay

You had been good to me, Did not, ever, betray But something has come up And I’ve to go away It’s painful for me to Think of those rapturous days When all was hunky-dory, No work and only play

We loved each other but that Was never on display, Still the troubles and doubts, We, always, kept on bay I stand and talk to the sky In the evening time The pretty clouds pass by Smiling at my well being I am lonesome But content I have achieved my goals With statisfaction on every road I have laid my foundation well Standing rooted into the soil I did my hard work And now I live at ease Lonely a bit I feel But suppress this feel With my capabilities There is so much in this world Yet to be achieved I have one mind and two hands I am confident

To labour ahead This world is a field We sow and plough The crops of abilities Will surely harvest Bringing joy in every season I am talking to my dearest sky Who rains on my field And I thank youfor your Godly presence And for giving me a listening ear Fillingthe vacuum in my heart And I see the night has come With stars glittering all over In the mighty sky And I shall take leave And sleep with a sigh!!!

But now I must declare With anguish and dismay, I have to leave the town, ‘twas A destiny that went astray

I will never forget you I’ll wait for you anyway I don’t know whom to blame, Maybe God’s feet of clay Don’t be so cross dearest There must’ve been a compulsion No one becomes disloyal, Unless there is some reason

Punya Devi

India Nnamdi Patrick

"Equivalency"

Nigeria

Bringing back humanity

Who cantolerate equality in reality If all the people will achieve the peak Where you are standing Will not you be apprehensive

If all of your friends Become intelligence brave Wise rich and healthy as you are Will not you burn in comprehensive

No never nobody can screw these With heart and soul Because everyone has his own logic Sanity vanity liberty purity As well as remission and emotions

But all the people could have Dreamt a dream of equality That our hearts should be Asdeep as an ocean Our visions should touch the Last horizon

At the moment of distribution We can follow the rule of the sun Because we must realize the truth that Our mother the earth has dedicated Her fertile bosom to all her children The world today is filled with bodies, But without the sight of souls anywhere near. A world where humans have forsaken love, Replacing it with the quest for gratifications.

I wish for a world filled with humans who love. A world where peace is sancrosant and revered.

I pray for a world where humanity comes first, Before religions,class,race, colour and gender.

I wish for a world where there's no war, No genocides, xenophobic madness and slavery. A place where every man is equal and respected. Not because of status but because he's human.

That world is achievable and realistic, If only we come together as one and believe. The world must learn that no matter what happens, We're all the world has left; humanity.

(Nnamdi patrick wenga,is a poet, peace ambassador and teacher from Nigeria. He is globally acclaimed and his poems have been published on international journals and magazines.)

18

Malak Nora Hammadi

Algeria

*quiet moment*

I wish I could escape from all the hustle and bustle. How precious is a moment of calm to seize and celebrate with myself my loneliness.. this period I prefer the dimensions of my room, it is enough for me To create a world of truth far from the false world On my small table inhabits a lot of texts..these texts are scattered here and there..like cold days with incomplete ideas.. Since when did the warmth escape from between my lines.. he ran away without telling me.. or is this my choice? In the corners of the room a lot of crazy ghostsroam.. They steal any idea that flies in the space of the room. I do not deny that they share sorrows with me.. they share this boring absence.. when will you return? Here in this small corner..I exercise absolute freedom..free from subordination to the laws of mankind..free from the constraints of customs

I'm breathing slowly..with difficulty..I don't have full awareness At this moment I want to be stripped of my soul and everything that connects me with life.. to be unknown.. completely forgotten.. Without an identity... to erase my name from existence... If I could restrict my feelings and feelings within these dimensions.. but she struggles, packs nostalgia in a suitcase and travels against my will.. with flocks of birds on a journey of death Open the door of the memory cupboard.. the wet messages fall out of it waiting for me to open them, but curiosity about me took a vacation for a while and can't come back.. I just want to lie on my couch and stare at the ceiling. This couch smells like the dead.

I try to take a deep breath..but I can't..maybe the room air is not enough..or the oxygen has left it..from a hole What he's going through.. but I have to breathe to feel my presence Just for a moment.. and then I don't mind receiving death Like any person who lived and then died.. not to practice death while I am alive I open the window and the sound of the wind attacks me.. the sound of the wind hurts me.. a longing burns me.. and kills me with longing.. it carries with it the voice of the absent.. I come back in a hurry to close myself on it..

Darkness sneaks into my features..we blend and become one piece..close my eyes..and practice my daily coma..

Tshewang Norbu

BHUTAN

His Soothing Nostalgia

Untold words remained buried, with a pyre of melancholic stories, Wondering to unfurl sacred secrets, to her juvenile doting angel.

Alas! as he awaits for the glorious day, to usher renewed hope of existence, But fear hindering barred his words, pouring out from his dying soul.

Scarlet rosy roses enveloped her beauty, comforting her visit as a glamour of heaven, And as he rambled amidst the serene meadows, It emanated the ray of soothing fragrance.

He was captivated by her charm, Treasuring all her catchy disposition, All day he stood in the courtyard, Flipping past memoirs, unmisted with love, Hence, Jeopardizing his fragile shrieking mind.

Humble he stood, mumbling in grief, Sobbing his eyes, but Glittering smile dazed his conscience, Leaving no nostalgia to mourn.

He gazed the beauty with his heart, Anticipating her sympathizing glance, But tragic sadness pinched him to yearn, Her enchanting yet, down-to-earth demeanor. Tick-tock the time faded unnoticed, In her gravitating paradise of love, Fantasizing, fantasy of romanticism, And embracing every moment, cherishing every dream.

Depression geared up, brooding intimacy so rigid, Engraving star-crossed lovelorn, Sandwiched in his dilemma, trauma concealing him, to mummify alive for her precious sake.

Oh! God was blind to judge, Deaf to pour in his plea for her, Solemnly he begged for his undefined love, Damn, he sacrificed his love to tragic hell.

He blames not god, but his own karma, Who unlocked his own

graveyard, To rest in peace, propitiating lords, to carry his message beyond her horizon.

Now, he sighed! In relief to remorse, For the things he haven't said, He whispered, 'I LOVE YOU' In her dream, so mellow, but painful to her heart.

20

Moitreyee Raju

Calcutta

Impoverished

Poverty is a highly cherished entity. No don't be surprised...cherished it is! 'Cause it satiates the urge for charity; For many it's even a road to sanctity. Here famine of thoughts and feelings very gleefully display their ugly peelings!

Poverty's barren valley is unscrupulously left to rally, all those deep seated woes buried in its alley; Woes mired in both kind and creed and are powerful enough to make you weep! But do you weep...? At the perpetual indifference, showered with such deep reverence? Writ large in the eyes of your brethren?

Their pangs of hunger have often made me wonder, how do they muster such candor? I can sense a seething volcano within; A revolt, is what they're asking? But being quiet amidst the disquiet has been the gigantic bane of this very vast human lane.

But poverty can even create trysts wherever it comes to exist; Yes, trysts with the mind where poverty really thrives! And my thoughts often glide, on the wavy tides of a poverty stricken mind....!

Like the deep dark cloak of night when poverty enters the domain of mind, leaving it impoverished, making it appear malnourished, evergreen thoughts then sound gibberish; As if there never is a day after the night, resemblant of a dark tunnel devoid of light. It's a happening that happens in you when poverty outgrows you!

Poverty creates a dreamer, the dreamer salvages the achiever. But an impoverished mind has an opium like bind, that can only trample and curtail your rise!! Sujata Paul Megha

India

In Your Messy Hair

In Your Messy Hair The poetries were composed By you sitting under the mango tree, I just stared at your messy hair Which looked silky and carefree.

You tried to knot them with the clip As they interrupted your writing But in yonder I never wanted the same For I could take myself far away seeing the hair through my fancy weaving.

Sajid Hussain

Wished let them fly in the open air A thirsty mind is there to get bathed in the silky, weavy hair, In this transitory life perhaps not possible To witness the same again Hence let's make the moment remarkable being jolly and fair. Tanu Vermani Kapoor

Pakistan

Niceties of Difference

India

A Butterfly In Me

Clustered breath swaddled in green Amidst blossoms and aura serene Stealthily suspiring phases to survive Tweaking alterations, they aren’t too naive

Cocooned in myriads of embellished dreams Silky threads of anticipation amidst glossy streams Creeping through days preparing for strife Then swathed in silk to witness all hues of life

Incessantly altering, remolding steadily Incarnating anew all fragments but only bodily Soulunvaried…though semblance is new Guised in beauty with wings long due

Cleaving, exfoliating, shedding all old Leaving the past, it wasn’t like gold Unfurling kaleidoscopic wings, fluttering to try A want in my heart and hope that I could fly lapse of time tries to link with sequence, Scenes interchange with the vision, Once proceeds to forget, other to remember, Interesting are to watch or to develop, Colours of rainbow get changes for attraction, A point of thinking makes opportunity, For a bright disposition into alien channels, Lonely daring soul in the dim rest, Ponders to unmeasure prospect of leisure, Steep onrush of life tortures to the current plays, Only emerging stars set distinction in the sky, Patience is for wait in monotony ,on, All the uplands of thoughts and curious flavour, On the screen of surprise yet to appear , Cold glare beneath edge of night, In affectionate to tender impulses, That hang in my heart and soul, What I think in the waves of gossip, Disguised in chill in rank of social position, A few solitary moments under the shades of, Twilight of realities with bare footsteps. Put me on the schedule of niceties of difference.

22

Lakshman Kisku

India

Living love

That love was more than I was, the most In the sky of Subalpur, in the air, in the middle of the heart. Didn't find anything Durbisaha grief took back! The thorny path, life goes beyond the boundaries of endurance Living love, I will one day be lost in the void!

The flowers bloomed in the middle of the young leaves, Spring has come to my mind, what I did wrong in my youth! Fluffy soft petals; Bumblebees sitting Young stalks; The word murmur. Loving mind, Manena Kangal, Manena Dhan Travel has forgotten the caste and caste differences.

Dreams are colorful, the intoxication of having a good time! Dreams are my dream, unconscious mind has no direction. The goldenness that is torn from the young I am such a hetha today! In the middle of the crowd, my love was spoken Samaj raft will rise today at any wharf!

I never got one like mind The next person to feel pain is Sudheejan. Love just repeats itself Beat your head! Loveless love is torn in the dry tarucha of seta. Living love, I will one day be lost in the void. Loreta Toader

Germany

footprint

Dawn was waltzing The leaves brought me the murmur of your whispers

Under the bare feet I felt the dew of translucent kisses I've never been happier I felt so close to you I breathed your green breath into the night And exhausted longing I've been looking for you for centuries I had given you thousands of dreams to gather, to

understand I had stars hanging in garlands But a star, the most beautiful I kept it for your heart It was so bright and so vivid that I hugged you in my arms giving you the most beautiful smile I warmed your soul with your heart and stole a kiss from you -the morning kiss star. Slowly, slowly, I woke up Looks like it was just a dream A dream lost in the words of a poem The imprint of a fantasy remained in my soul!

Suchismita Ghoshal

India

◾Memories◾

Suddenly she clutched my wrist, just like before, my bracelated wrist with her grips; She grinned like blossomed flowers & dragged me to catch a walk with her, to have the same two scoops of strawberry. I sniffed the aroma of her hair, taking her head to my laps, & just when i tried to land a forehead kiss, dreams ended, & shattered; memories cried.

◾Fascination◾

Perhaps your mind clicked on love, The passionate one, You thought it right. But my intentions are to target my words, to blend into them like dark chocolates, to embrace them with the purest desires. My verses ignite thefire on my heart & my scribblings embellish my diaries. My gypsy thoughts are free from any prisons, They shape my fascinations into a cloud, Showering the rains of my poetic dreams.

◾Abode Of My Dreams◾

Germination of my dreams, are seeded deep into the soils of my school. Never to be vaccinated, & splintered; from the lanes of my heart at any cost. The house where possibilities reside, where tender minds dream of being a doctor serving poors, being a pilot touching the limits of skies, being a writing engraving the tales of solace, & everything together with hands on hands with the bliss of the Gods disguised as teachers.

Bio

Author Suchismita Ghoshal hails from West Bengal, India. At the very early age of 23, she has shaped her life in a way where she cuddles with literature and devotes herself into finding peace through love, compassion, learning & community service. With an academic career in science till graduation, she is currently pursuing her masters in business administration ( MBA) from the renowned GD Goenka University in Gurgaon, Haryana. Besides that, she is a professional writer, published author, internationally acclaimed poet, literary critic, literary influencer, content writing member for WEST BENGAL UNITED NATIONS YOUTH ASSOCIATION, INTERNATIONAL ORGANISATION OF UNITED NATIONS VOLUNTEERS & HELPING HAND INTERNATIONAL ORGANISATION, change-activist & a nature lover. With more than 520 coveted co-authorship in various renowned national & international anthologies, prestigious literary magazines, websites, webzines and eminent literary journals, she fosters to carry forward her literary career in a more prominent way. She has also authored 3 poetry books by the name of "Fields of Sonnet", “Poetries in Quarantine" & "Emotions & Tantrums". Her poems have been translated into Arabic, Italian & Spanish till now.

24

Santosh Kumar Biswa

Bhutan

My Injured Pen in Hand

I wreak my pen for a ride lang syne, Across the desolate land of emptiness With my verses for greenery to bring forth. Eaglesassailed me with its cruel mind To snap off my pen and to booze, its ink Never to accord my verse to hang Like the moon through the milky ways And to get snapped into pieces. Me alone, with my injured pen in hand Picking it from East, West, North and South To mend to let the ink respite in peace And to let it repand with verses so eternal More intense for the barren land to shine. My verses, through the rough wind flowed Like Ulysses's ship over the dim sea in Troy Through the hardship, so determined to ply And to defend the Greecian covetous in mind. The storm it produced subdued cruel eyes, Now the verses piled in volumes on shelves To rid those dusty eyes and to denote, I'm a winner.

Social Service

God enumerates heads that hold the social mind that furnishes; To the piteous poor ones with devout contributions that burnishes; Away from narcissistic, to foster the godly welfare that replenishes; For safe heaven, by assisting any societal problems that garnishes.

Divine Choir

Not through thered rug, but the sky beam I struck the smooth flight thru' the galaxy high And my chassis near my tomb lie inculpable. The way, so pleasing, the blinking stars to see And their beamish grins to cherish my advent With divine guard of honor by angel's twins And their whispers on my ears, so dégagé. In gentleness all comets glared us in delight And the heaven's gates with their broad arms Like to a monarch to greet upon the arrival. Bracing my mother wit and the path so bright The gayety in me augmented like a semitone And the whispers satiated with discernment Of my deeds that pleased for my unveiling. The second, on my left 'bout my pristine mind Social in itself - the mitt granted for the indigent Then the choir from the heaven's gate to bid Until the common hall for the grand success And to join the choir for those left on the dirt For divinity to betide for ataraxic to override.

With Poetry to point the Actus Reus The Antarctic: I stand here to Heal you

The weapon of my gramps in the combat, A piercing knife that penetrated wakeless, Shaded blood as brutal as its abrupt edge. The blasé gun of my father's hand in war Impinged the guiltless bullets in the breast, Stamped out human as lethal as its veracity For the oppressed power to conquer and rule, Although treacherous, but not to get depressed.

Since my nativity, many hatreds to see about And no dearie to germinate among all youths For the Satan is so intelligent to subjugate all, The man's pallid mind for their inglorious act And to translate the value that lies within love; Of human minds that cries and the life itself For the selfish war that gratify the chosen one, But innocents to remain roofless and squint.

Oh mighty pen, let us work in concert to kill, But not like weapon and gun my fathers used, Best, let's kill those conceited minds of pride. I shall sharpen you like a sword, so acute, And shall drill to be precise in our survey With poetry to point the actus reus of the past And then fight to redress the mind of humans For poetry to prosper as the warrior of peace. Behold! The glacier that dwell in the Antarctic, Weary not since I shored to afford my hand Among many; me alone to rid your sorrow And give you the strength never I did before. You go slender, meager in quality than ere, The bleeding, wrenchingly you flow to show Of your gloominess that exceed the bound. The sense deep inside you seems bellicose, And you robust yourself for war before time Between you and those unwise one to strike.

Hear you, I stand here to heal you before long, Look, the saplings in my right to medicate you And wastes of unwise in my left to recycle. The banner on my bag is to aware all deaf And letters inscribed in it,

your painful songs. I got a vacuum to clear the ozone for fair rays And the strapped one in action for your guard.

After, I'll get hold of rich ones who are deaf With this banner to let them sing desperately Close to the aggravate age to deflect soon And get to your fail-safe and their generations. I weary, they are mislaid in a materialist world, But I shall strive to barter minds and change For a brighter day to arrive and make you firm For safe Antarctic, forever as before to stand. The last chance I beg you, to seek and strive Of your goodness and for theprofit of all.

Sahadev Behera

India

A Promise to Humanity

Service tomankind is service toGod, We the people live with a familyworld . Without discrimination ofsex, caste, creedand colour, Respect to everyone and love to each other .

Don't be confused ,be sure, take a promise to ensure, The world is lovely,sweet and soft like dove's feather.

All brothers and sisters, we are very dearer and nearer We are the sons and daughters as a family member.

Change your attitude, be positivetowards othersfeeling and emotion, Share your happiness and joy with friends in World's perception.

Eradicate illiteracy, terrorism , blind believes, social taboos,war andcurruption, Brotherhoodness and humanity formulate peace, tranquility as a social integration.

Every corner of the world blows the breezing wind, Unites us and germinates in the wholeworld, love, happiness,peace and kind. Showers the love and emotions to sprout peace and humanity. Hesitatenarrowness mind and conflicts, spark the light of joy not cruelty.

Live and let live, respect elders and love each other, Being we are the children of a lovely magnanimousmother.

Biography

26

Dr. Sahadev Behera is a Govt. Elementary teacher. He has published more than 7 nos of educational books. He has writtenstory, prose andmore than 500 poems in Odia, Englishabd Bengali language. He has Received so many awards from different literary forum throughout nation and abroad. Name - Sahadev Behera, Date of birth-15/031973 At -Mangarajpur, po Sadang, via -Manjuriroad. Qualification.- M.A, B.Ed, DSEVH, ProfessionGovt. Teacher; Hobby Reading, writing, listening music, Experience -Poet,social activist,international ambassador of peace. Member of United Nations Organisation and many more international organisations. Received Honorary Doctorate. And many more international certificates, awards. Published -More than 7books in regional language. More than 500 articles have published in different international anthology . Language Known-Odia ,English, Bengali, Hindi. Responsibility -Moderator and Administrator of different international forum of literature.