editorial

editorial 3-7

Paul Rotaru

Efectele contrastului poetic

Motto: Când în paradis ninge, în iad arde soare. Aurora Ispas

Efectele vieții asupra actului creator sunt de-a dreptul cutremurătoare de cele mai multe ori, însă ele permit conceptualizarea într-o sferă superioară a reperelor vitale în arealul contextului artistic. Oamenii sunt creatori fără a fi neapărat artiști; ei sunt creatori după cum îi orientează vectorii ființării pe pământ și, dacă nu ar îndrăzni în libera lor imaginație, s-ar preschimba în prizonierii propriilor rutine. În romanul social clasic s-au impus caractere și tipologii unice, dar ridicate la standarde peste așteptarea contemporaneității; adică sunt aduse la nivel de absolut în bine și rău, astfel încât acele personaje riscă să pară neverosimile sau, cel mult, exaltări ale preceptelor ce aparțin autorilor. E drept că un scriitor de roman inventează personaje care să reflecte cu naturalețe felurite idei pe care autorul nu le-ar putea exprima în viața de zi cu zi și nici nu lear putea eterniza altfel. Cu toate astea, când spiritul creator își asumă dimensiunea artistică, scriitorul potențează și amplifică sensul ideii până la punctul de fierbere în care principiul se evaporă. Grea misiune prin asumarea ei, știm, dar cine țintește jos, acolo rămâne. Să ni se permită un argument! Javert, captiv al disciplinei, al ideii de puritate, își desființează logica autoritară amintindu-și că el este progenitura unei târfe încarcerate. Legea, reprezentată de Inspectorul Javert, o lege strictă, rigidă, inumană și, totuși, concepută de oameni, se azvârle în Sena, pentru curățire, tot așa cum toate valorile omenirii se lasă spălate de trecerea eternă a fluviului vital. Victor Hugo îndrăznește să opună curajul prezentului de a se sinucide în favoarea unui necunoscut viitor care trebuie să se descurce de la sine. Pot oamenii, în libertatea lor supremă, să aibă încredere în viitorul pe care nu și-l pricep? Dacă da, instinctul ne salvează pe toți. Dacă nu, tot instinctul ne va extermina. E comod să credem că, deasupra faptelor noastre, există o inteligență care ne dictează dacă faptele ne sunt bune sau rele. Este mult mai dificil să ieșim din plasma realității, a rutinei, a placentei originare, astfel încât să rupem lanțurile care ne leagă de același prezent gonflabil și conjunctural. De aici, încep granițele artistice. Mai departe, intervin riscurile! Se prea poate ca, în vremuri incomensurabile, haosul să fi avut nevoie de stăpânire. Și de aceea trebuia ucis Tiamat, pentru ca ulterior să ne ivim și noi, oamenii, în orizontul acestui univers. Preocuparea mea personală față de poezie implică inevitabil factorul uman, spre care mă îndrept atât cu un deget acuzator, cât și cu un suflet crispat, timid, uneori de o rezervă excesivă. Cu toate astea, poezia a răbufnit din mine ca o neliniște neînțeleasă, greu acceptabilă, ca un dragon dornic de pârjol, dar care susține pe aripi oamenii cei

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mai dragi. Știu că timpurile de acum nu sunt mai tragice decât oricare epocă din existența omenirii; percepția personală m-ar fi dus demult la balamuc dacă nu mi-aș fi dezvoltat viziunea artistică în virtutea căreia să dau vitalitate propriilor speranțe. Aș comite o aroganță dacă aș da drept exemplu viața mea în susținerea temei acestui editorial. Deși sunt convins că ceea ce scriu stârnește curiozități dincolo de limitele textelor publicate, am marea nădejde că forma pe care o dau vieții prin creațiile mele literare va mobiliza, alături de toți artiștii acestei lumi, viața planetei către repere ce ne înalță pe toți oamenii... din trecut și din totdeauna. Nimeni și niciodată, pe acest ținut căruia îi spunem Cămin, nu a fost artist pentru a măguli puterea, pentru a da speranțe deșarte unei societăți care gusta elixirul dezamăgirii. Arta, de la prima ei manifestare prin plâns, s-a maturizat odată cu omenirea pentru a ne da și zâmbete. Arta avea nevoie de oameni pentru a-și regăsi dumnezeul, tot astfel cum Dumnezeu trebuia să fie artist pentru a-l crea pe om. În spectrul artei, trebuie să fim naivi a ne imagina o lume în care Satan tace și tace... cam tot atât cât tace Dumnezeu. Poate chiar mai mult, dacă ascultăm cu sufletele acolo unde avem nevoie. Poezia are carențe fără de care nu ar fi fost perfectibilă. Cea mai mare carență a ei este substanța, acel suflu personal ce îndepărtează eul cititor de realul concret prin făgașele eului liric. Ne cerem iertare, ca poeți, că dăm cu supra de măsură din spiritele noastre,dar nici noi nu am supraviețui altfel! Nu viața ne-a făcut poeți, nici educația și nici cultura, acest flagel al opțiunilor; trecerea prin lume, printre oameni, printre călăi și semidocți, printre analfabeți cu ștaif și curve fără nume! Poezia sa născut în bordel, a fost înfășată cu scutecele religiei și a căutat laptele din sânul lui Satan. Poeziei i-a trebuit o zodie a omenirii pentru a se ghida în calea revenirii spre iad. Sau spre rai!?

Quasimodo = „aproape ceva“, îl numea Victor Hugo pe dramaticul personajla propria tinerețe literară. Dacă am fi nostalgici, am crede că franțuzul a dus-o bine în exilul din Elveția! Dacă am fi răutăcioși, am spune că binețea se datora unor simpatii politice fără de care exilul nu i-ar fi fost favorabil în contextul romanului care a întors două continente pe dos. Și gata cu „dacă“! Victor Hugo a schimbat lumea nu doar pentru că a scris literatură, că a fost un republican democrat; el a scris cea mai dificilă dramă, „Cromwell“, tocmai pentru că, în tinerețea lui fizică, avea viziunea principiului democratic dus la scară supremă: egali toți înaintea lui Dumnezeu, fie că El ne aude ori nu! Doresc să nu fie uitat acest principiu și fac asta revenind la valori fără de care scrierea acestor rânduri ar fi fost goale de la capăt. Stima supremă ce o nutresc artiștilor sub ale căror auspicii mi-am dezvoltat sistema de valori se regăsește în următoarele versuri.

În ceasul vlăguirii de pe urmă, Îndurerat privesc la voi, copii. Durerile ființa toată-mi scurmă La gândul că-ntr-o zi nu voi mai fi...

Mi-e greu să port această agonie În sufletu-mi îmbătrânit de patimi. Oh, neființă rece și târzie, De ce nu vrei o dată să mai clatini?

Din tine am făcut și nori... și stele... Și munții stăpâniți de semizei... Ai fost cu toate-n virtuțile mele Și-ți cer acum cu toate să mă iei...

Ca fiii mei, îmi voi purta povara Și lovituri de pietre voi primi, Iar soarele înnobilându-și fiara În strigăte de hulă voi privi.

Coroana cea de spini, însângerată, Vă va rămâne singură-amintire. Peste milenii-o veți păstracurată, Blazon pentru întreaga omenire...

În sânge vă veți cântări iubirea, Vărsându-l fără milă în noroi, Spunând că de la mine-aveți puterea, Că-mi semănați și că trăiesc în voi...

Azi m-au chemat instanțele divine, Cerându-mi să le dau o socoteală: De ce-am creat frumoasa omenire Știind că într-o zi ea va să piară?

Nu îmi găsesc cuvinte să dau seamă De ce-ați primit suflarea de-a trăi –E ca și cum ați judeca o mamă Că a iubit și a născut copii!

De-aceea în instanțele divine Tăcerea este cel mai bunrăspuns –Se vor înstrăina cu toți de mine Și moartea pentru ei n-ar fi de-ajuns... Mă vor închide-n temnița uitării Numindu-se divini în locul meu, Iar din cenușa urii și puterii Au să mai inventeze-un dumnezeu...

Dar nu de ei durerea mă apasă, Ci pentru voi, iubiții mei copii –În veșnicia mea întunecoasă, De m-ați uita, eu totuși aș muri...

V-am închinat izvoare, mări și valuri Și universul tot să-l stăpâniți; Voi ați crezut în alte idealuri –M-ați părăsit ca să vi le-mpliniți...

De câte ori v-ațidepărtat de casă Pe căi necunoscute, nedescrise, Eu am rămas cu ochii la fereastră –V-am așteptat cu brațele deschise!

M-ați judecat și vă-nțeleg durerea, De ce nu v-am făcut nemuritori, De ce nu v-am împrumutat puterea De-a fi stăpâni pe soare și pe nori.

De-ați fi nemuritori, din ignoranță Nici viața n-ați mai ști s-o prețuiți, Iar cântecul ce l-am numit SPERANȚĂ Ar fi neînsemnat să-l mai trăiți. În nemurire nu este puterea Nici fericirea-n cel nemuritor; Acolo unde-i zâmbetul, durerea, E totul mai frumos... că-i trecător!

Voi sunteți mai puternici decât mine Pentru că-nvingeți tot ce vă apasă, Iar zilele de patimă vi-s pline, Căci steaua voastră-i cea mai radioasă!

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De n-aș fi fost în lumea mea pustie, Mi-ar fi plăcut să fiu acolo, jos, Căci viața voastră e osimfonie Pe care chiar și eu aș fi gelos.

Dar vă privesc cu dragoste adâncă Din golul resemnărilor de-apoi, Ca Prometeu înlănțuit pe stâncă, Sacrificat și el tot pentru voi!

Nu-mi spuneți c-am făcut vreo nedreptate, Iubind mai mult pe unii cape alții –Eu n-am fost dictator peste palate Și nici nu am încununat ovații.

Nu pot să-mi cântăresc nicicând iubirea Prin închinările ce vi le-ascult –De-ar fi definitivă despărțirea, Eu v-aș iubi pe toți la fel de mult!

Nu v-am cerut supunere și slavă Și nici altare pentru sacrificii, Căci sufletul e-o pasăre firavă Ce nu-și va face cuib între religii.

Nu v-am cerut nici preoți, nici biserici Și nici statui deaur sau de lemn; Nu v-am cerut enoriași sau clerici, Ci viața s-o trăiți frumos și demn!

Eu nu vreau liturghii și molifteruri, Nici prosternare în sudoarea frunții –Iubiți-vă pe voi până la ceruri, Iubiți Pământul, câmpii, marea, munții!

Voi sunteți cao rază pentru mine, Ce liniștea-mi îmbracă în mister –De-ar fi să plec spre alte zări senine, Lăsați-mă să vă mai fac un cer! Oricât de multe stele, tot puține Pe noua boltă vi se vor părea, Iar lumea voastră, cu sau fără mine, Ar fi la fel de bună și de rea...

Nenumărate flăcări și blesteme Veți azvârli spre zările albastre, Căcigroaza pustiirilor eterne E plăsmuirea neștiinței voastre. În scopul păcii veți purta războaie, Veți invoca scripturi, savanți, profeți; Din sângele vărsat între noroaie Veți vrea să inventați copii perfecți.

Riscați să vă distrugeți propria vatră În alcunoașterilor lung demers, Lăsându-vă purtați pe-o altă piatră, Spre alte limite din univers.

Poate că veți privi din lumi străine Trecutul vostru sumbru, zbuciumat Și, amintindu-vă cumva de mine, Veți crede că doar eu sunt vinovat.

Puteți să-mi spunețiSoarele și Luna, Amun, Allah, Iehova, Zavaot, Iisus, Mohamed, Buddha –toate-s una Și-n aste nume voi mă faceți tot!

Ori, pentru căvoi sunteți plăsmuire Din ale universului scântei, Voi sunteți dumnezei în devenire Și, buni sau răi, sunteți copiii mei!

Veți legăna pe-o lucitoare rază Uitându-mă cu toți până-ntr-o zi. Ori, dacă zeii care vă-nfiază Vor fi mai buni, mai răi... doar voiveți ști!

Veți răsturna guverne colosale, Vă veți alege proprii dumnezei –Deși veniți din vremuri ancestrale, Mă tem căîntr-o zi veți fi ca ei...

Mă veți găsi răpus în întuneric La rădăcina unui singur pom –Din fructul nepermis și luciferic Eu voi renaște, voi trăi ca OM! Ramesh Chandra Pradhani

India

Mother's language day

Mă veți privi din lumea voastră-naltă Ca pe ceva mărunt și curios; Eu nu am să vă judec niciodată, Nici nu voi arde jertfe de prinos!

Nu veți avea asupra mea putere, Cum eu nu am acum asupra voastră Și, tot din fericire și durere, Voi tinde către bolta cea albastră!

În patimă îmi voi trăi destinul Și voi cunoaște ce e rău și bine –În ziua-n care am să beau veninul, Voi ști că totul este doar în mine.

Voi tinde să ating perfecțiunea Și tot ce e divin să înțeleg, Să aflu că iubirea e minunea Ce ține-n viață universu-ntreg! A language of heart comes from heart that is mother's tongue No problems to understand one's emotions never be wrong Heartfelt and mind-blowing the songs in heart when sung More mellifluous and spontaneous those loveliest songs

The language that to a mother it belongs Things are vividly and lucidly identified with sense strong A language of closeness, love and compassion in throng A fair and frank expression with no complications Squeezed the gap of communication between

generations No misunderstanding mushroomed in open collaboration A better platform to catch the train of life to destination A window to the world of thoughts in the realm of transformation

Now is the day to introspect the place and position One's own identity in quest of mission and vision

poetry 8-46

Maruf Shaikh

Bangladesh

Whenever you open your hair

Maybe it's not hard to breathe, However, it becomes difficult. It might not be difficult for me to turn my eyes on you. However, it becomes difficult.

When you go every afternoon, Stand at the corner of the roof,

Secretly, By losing your hair, you untangle your hair.

See you from behind, I don't know how to increase the ability to be happy ...

I'm the man in this scene, Who loves your hair. When you open it slowly, Blow your loose hair. It touches my lips.

What is its discount of scene? I forget then..., Keep you in love. Fickle love ..

8 Mysterious Love Girl

When did someone come as a magician? Don't know,

She stayed in me for a while and relaxed, This left the door of my mind open. So that she can taste my heart, How long can I remember?

To return, After she told me like this. Do not know where she got lost?

If she go alone. Then maybe that’s the way it can be taken! If she leave home empty-handed, Then maybe I could accept it anyway!

But not! No! She went to remember me. The scent of her hair snatched me inside her, She tore my chest and grabbed my heart. In the tune of her bracelet.

Yes, she as left alone at home. She leaves my inner door open. So that she can come back, She can tie her love rhyme to me as she wishes

When did she kiss me? She kept me in touch with her hair. I don't know, where is that princess?

How muchi want you? This is something I'm not really aware of. But if someone else shows the effect of touching your hand, I can't stop being angry.

How long will I drive you? I do not ask the vibrations of the breaths of a battle of love. But if someone else tries to get your attention, When I see this happening.

I have a serious problem on my mind, at that time. As if someone suddenly stabbed me in the chest.

I am the king of dark minds, If I want to win the joy of the sea, The contract of liberties should write a sunset and a bath in the sea. You are my killer queen, so what? I still love you my only killer on my mind.

How can I be rude for you? I'm not aware of it at all,

But the tears hurt the local or the end of the rain, When someone calls you,

How uneasy I can be because of you? Seeing my heart broken.

How much will I drown in a river like you? I really have no idea, Only emptiness teaches me, Take me hostage,

What else is this? But don't walk away like this

" You can run and slap a lot, Until this high society stops this rain. Kiss me again in a very angry look, If you can become inside me a life. "

This rain of desires hascome out...

Still you didn’t stop me. But i love you only even today for your sake I praise you a lot.

If i cannot live with you. On which name should i live? Tell me, oh angel! I felt nothing without you else...

This rain of desires has come out...

Even then i could not

leave you. But you haven’t had this different wish.

Once more, once more. Can't you hug my arm. You come from behind me like an arrow, I want to make a good start on that shore again. " But don't walk away like this. Don't burn me with a vacuum, never go away. "

Punya Devi

India

„You are the first sailor „

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You are the first sailor of my Unexplored island Liting up a lantern of love You have enlightened my Solitary dreamland

Before you Neither sounds of whistle From any ships of invader could Shake the fastened flag Of my freedom Nor any conqurer could have made Storm of ebb and tide For spoiling it’s rhythms

But in that midnight While a song of an unknown bird Made me bound to feel me Loneliness deeply At that moment Spreading the sails of Hope of your boat You stood up face to face with me

Opening the treasury of my Secret emotions I too welcomed you heartefully

While you have entered into the Temple of my heart then Plunging in the blue sea Of your big eyes I have realized the truth that Everyone has his own treasured island Everyone has his own sky Which are enlighten with Flowery stars

Discovering my dreamful island Building a bridge of love and peace Connecting one island to another You taught me to start the voyage In the ocean of humanity By spreading the sails of faith goodwill Of the ship of mind

O the first sailor of my Unexporable solitary island Be an imperishable lamp of eternal love Will you please remain for ever In the sarinity of my dreamland...?

India Bhagirath Choudhary

Wisdom transmission

From very beginning Invisible evolutionary urge Made a holy surge For making universe Write a divine verse For life and living Loving and thriving

Every one co-operated All supported all All contributed

What they learned For being And becoming Making earth A cosmic wisdom hearth

Everyone passed on His evolutionary wisdom To the next relay racer To help Every aspiring self To rise And apprise By being sane and wise For cosmic wisdom enterprise

The sacred mission For wisdom transmission Goes on genetically By word linguistically And culturally Without stop And any delay Like a wisdom relay By everyone truthfully And so very faithfully

Man is here Like a account keeper And a humble Seer Let me be accountable And be universally responsible As a wisdom keeper For loving humanity And earth so very deeper Chukwuma Chika Ocm Nigeria There is nature There is nature That wangleon Melancholyseeking for pickles To pick and sustain It’s throat is thirsty and dry by season Is like is fry It pitch on parched leaves

Spear nature Is our orish The bird pant on tree to thrall to pick a berry But non isfund

Not a oregano leaves all is dried On the weather snow it feed On As thalassic is dried Willing to keep breathing habit Not to allowing the heart to cease breath

It suffers illness Unable to pick

Draw white-ant To feed It lacks janitor Lay a water pot around Before it cease to breath The feeding pot Is dehydrated by dry season It needs a willing hands to Hydrate the pot The throat is dried up Setthe canop to feed the public

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Francesca Ghiribelli

Italia

You look like a fashion show of shy little girls clothed in bright dew on the rising beat Of sun.

Your soul color of the sky dance among the secret whispers of the wind, caress inside the tears of the meadow embroidering the poem of two lovers in a kiss longed for.

Silent and shadowy, haughty and thrifty, rocking of petals inside a pistil of yellow rice.

Sweet cradle of dreaming thoughts, tiny hat you appear as an ancient maiden among the blades of grass of a nostalgic vision.

Delicate perfume, docile essence in your slim figurine superb and china. You bleed the barren earth with your bow, while a child leans in your presence and catches you making you spite. But then him when it grows up opening an old book he will remember than that distant day you entered the heart of his childhood and you never abandoned him with your simple elegance.

Adried flower between the pages of life: a blue bellflower never been lost.

Blue bell

Sameer Goel

India

The ones

the ones

that left the mouth were words

. the ones that got stuck were emotions

. and the ones i always wish to say but really can't nothing but modesty

. what to run for when this life,

so transient came travelled gone

. a journey when it starts or it ends who knows

. listen to this my friends ears wide open

. relations so resembling leaves green today may be wilted tomorrow

. why not we should learn upholding relations from the roots

. to nurture them we often need to act blind or dumb or maybe deaf too

. feed them with trust an unshaken faith shall be lifelong an evergreen wreath

. as it rained i listened to its song summers too turn ochre never reign forever

. advice yes, i repeat advice is more of an elixir if instilled humbly because

. knocking is meant to get the door opened not to break it

. vanity too isn't loyal to anyone before it breaks

that earthen pot always thinks that whole of water is its

. if any words bring smile on someone's face that's the real beauty of this life remaining all is an ugly lie

. life doesn't stop without anyone but neither passes swiftly without the ones we love

. live in themoment live it so true nothing to lament let smiles accrue..

Ramesh Chandra Pradhani Clive Norman

India

Morning sky

England

Hill of life

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Morning wakes up with scenic beauty Painted by the diverse colours of serenity Each morning comes with fresh start Fresh air, fresh light, fresh mind pretty smart Blowing the horn of consciousness Each moment of life be not emptiness Morning tears up the heart of darkness

To enlighten the sky of dizziness

Kissing the cheeks of clouds in numbness

Like a coy mistress's carefulness

As morning born from the heart of mighty sun Time being the mother moulds the mind to run Nurturing with the food of change however forlorn.

Let the morning sky of each life be abundantly brightened With the limpid light of fairness highly heightened Life’s like this Every single, solitary moment of our lives We’ll be unwittingly enduring, an eversteepening, challenging territorial climb To heavenly blissful tranquilities, within the blue oceanic skies Whether we’re climbing, a green hill, a bracken wrapped mountain, or a staircase stretching, way up, up to the heavens Sometimes we’ll stumble, sometimes we’ll fall, sometimes we’ll cry, and sometimes we’ll die And many times, we’ll roll, roll, roll, all the way down To pick oneself up, dust oneself off, and start all over again Ascending, learning, adapting, growing, evolving and blossoming, through everchanging influential circumstances Karmic destinies fulfilling, reaching the summit The symbiotic host’s, the physically expendable shell dies While the essence of soul’s immortality’s flowing eternally, blissfully resting, reenergising, awaiting Reincarnation into the untainted shell, of a newly born vessel Freshly revised, calculated karmic destiny, a new life to be fulfilled, and a new hill of life, to ascend, until…?

Shikdar Mohammed Kibriah Stefano Capasso

Bangladesh Italia

Agreement I do not want to dry anymore

O' my beloved! Step to my earthy yard to rearrange Our traditional lively ethics of sweated cultivation For a rightful and absolutely balanceddistribution Of crops between lord-house and peasant cottage.

To set a logical rate for your lovely handed crops Or, save your fellow to come back in huge harvest, Let's go in the strike make our lords logically reset As fall of capitalism is the oath ofmy blood drops.

How long days we've to burn our crops my darling! Let's be united to store crops at the rate of labour, To come back again that golden days really better Let's make the harvest gate with our right marking.

You, my ladylove! Look at me, the Bengali nature How furnishes this country in seasonal diversity! What a beauty in its absolutely balanced equality Let's distribute our households in a couple favour.

Then, come my true love to make a delightful life, I will fulfil the conditions make you a bengali wife.

Alby Raymond ParackalAlby Raymond Parackal

India

Reign of love

Reign of love, seems mysterious in this lifetime, Reigningalways blowing hot and cold as prime; Really hate talking it's stand unknown to blame, Righteous stance on human rights blightesome! goodbye tears

The absent gaze fly away, far beyond the horizon, over icy waters and shake.

Play and have fun the Wind to cause havoc, while confused, melancholy and heartbroken, my mind remains.

I too know well what a life without love looks like to an acidic flavor of a fruit not yet mature.

No, no I don't want to dry anymore goodbye tears for an ungrateful love who no longer lives here.

But take shelter my mind, from the siege of a Void Infinity, who hopes tosit next.

Rarely emotional support of lovely bend regime, Right part with in logical conclusions all aflame; Righteous think about as conclusive in outcome, Rightly seen as human aberrations of lonesome!

Rarefied truth, of earthly living room so sublime, Rectify trances, transcends in life, cumbersome; Ransack trust of hearty thoughtful venturesome, Rational soulful humane treatment take to tame!

Guna Moran

India So the distance between us is widening (Original Assamese poem titled “Antardarshan”) Tr. Nirendra Nath Thakuria

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Bio-Guna Moran is an Assamese Poet and critic. His poems are published in more than hundred international magazines, journals, webzines, blogs, newspapers, anthologies and have been translated into thirty languages around theworld. He has three poetry books to his credit.

Insight First Lesson

For some reason you are upset with me for a couple of days

Although I don‟t know the reason I guess it right You haven‟t spelled it out I too haven‟t asked you We have taken opposite positions

Silence is chatting between us Maybe the conversation is called the battle of nerves

Bloodless without arms this is the most difficult battle

On earth it is the best person who wins this battle again and again It is the one who ends this silent battle is ever defeated Sitting hunched at the hearth of useful knowledge she toasted her ashen eyes through the gaps of her fingers and very often said You are my unique achievements of my sacrifice for long ten months and ten days By birth you’ve got a beautiful earth besides the vastsky So you must be generous like the sun and tolerant like the earth

At my birth I cried Maybe I got the pains of my mother Since then I have had tears in my eyes in happiness and sorrow

You want to be the winner Me too don‟t want to be the loser of people One can‟t help crying whose only companion at birth was tears

That honeyed word „Maa‟ was my first honeyed word Since then I‟ve blurted out „Maa‟ unawares whenever I sit down or stand up

My birth is my mother‟s sacrifice I must be made for sacrifice An ingrate I can‟t be

My happiness lies in my mother‟s happiness My sorrow lies in my mother‟s sorrow Never can I be happy

He is the lone custodian of happiness whosemain assets are the sun and the earth (Original Assamese poem titled “Adipath”) Tr. Nirendra Nath Thakuria

Affection for You Chitralekha

Having painted on both eyes suddenly vanished Chitralekha the enchantress

She planted in heart the garden of Babylon

It is swaying in heart heavenly flowers are blooming

Everydaywe hear melodious calls of painted birds

It was gleaming with the gaze

Affection is dumb Affection is deaf

Like a speaker it did not speak about the matter like a listener it did not listen to

Till the moment of parting it kept waiting in the eyes

In the thick green of the desolate woods A tune is ringing faintly

Gazing at the eyes I want to see

Is it still alive

Oh dear No way, no way

Cleaving the heart comes out a curious sigh

In the teary gaze isit still alive

You are the gardener of the hanging garden I know you won‟t come back again

Yet amidst the clouds will be shining the radiant smile of the sun (Original Assamese poem titled “Chitralekha”)

Note: Chitralekha was the boon companion of Usha, the daughter of the King Baan of the Sonitpur kingdom in Assam (India) of the

Mahabharata era. Chitralekha had magical skills at painting and portraiture in particular. Tr. Nirendra Nath Thakuria

Odujebe Oluwole Santosh Kumar Biswa

Birland

May peace reign

Bhutan

My Sweetest Love, let us flee

Terror in the nation In every corner, fear lurk Tranquility is uncommon May peace rule.

Insecurity in the cities Fights between brothers Family bonds broken May peace flow.

Hatred in hearts grow Anger in minds blow Conflicts in homes May peace dwell.

Countries are full of crime Societies are full of crisis Communities in confusion May peace reign.

If love reign in our hearts Then we will stand together When we love one another Peace will rule our hearts. Blossoms are blooming in the garden of love, The smiling autumn is maturing soon, My sweetest love, let us flee before it wilts. The harsh winter is on the ball before eyes, The pitiless chilly wind is ready to parade, And the deceitful snow is about to fall and blur, To weaken us in love and then to turn uspale.

Before it fades, my sweetest love, let us flee And glorify our love like the Cyclamen forever To the place that fortifies an emblem of love. We shall then wait for the spring to fly high With the new hope that beef up our firm love And make it shine like the brilliant sun of summer With its warmth, for stronger bonds to mend. Eagle Gold

México

Grain-Growers

"Grains of life"

Raindrops, grains of sun that give us life garden teeth that fill every pore with energy, they are food, they are gold. The farmer with his hands sows with sweat; your dedication gives it flavor and value. Keys to the field satisfy the poor, the rich, beautiful as the Quetzal is worth more than any metal. Let us honor humble work; Let us pay him with honor, every day he feeds us with infinite love!.

18

Joanna Svensson

Sweden

In the shadow

In the shadow of me In a shadow of my own I stand alone And sometimes see Stars that are beaming Inother people's eyes Stars that others do see But not me Because they start to glow In the eyes of others Through my poems

I have drowned All of my words Drowned them with my inner thoughts Thoughts so pure and clean Clean as purest summer rain

Like gleaming drops of sunshine The sunshine that's lit my path Followed me through my life Because I wanted it that way

I stepped away from the darkness From the evil of this world Though I know it isn't so That I haven't seen or realized

All the world's great misery All of its endless troubles Of war, starvation and scorn

But in this world I'm armed With my sole and only weapon It is the love that I feel in my heart Love for all my fellow men Compassion -and empathy

And so I have decided Already long ago To peacefully make war The only way I know

To write and write With words of love So that mankind understands What it's all about at last

That our lives here on earth Are just the blink of an eye And suddenly we all do swim In the great big lake of memories

A lake of stars that shine More or less for all For each and everyone

More if you have love in your heart And empathy for your neighbour But less if you are bitter Torned by evil and filled with revenge

My weapon is love Love for all mankind Love for allmy fellow men Love for all of nature Love for all in Universe

In the shadow of me In a shadow of my own Stars are clearly gleaming In the eyes of others Gleaming through my poems!

20 The time and the roses

Who has said Thatall the roses there are Are all the roses there is

All of them With fragrances yet unknown All of them With colors never seen Roses that no one ever seen or smelled

But now I can see them On the other side of the mirror Where I sometimes go

I can not yet describe them all Because no words are suitable enough Because the phases don’t exist Because the fragrances are unrevieled

But I know they will be born On the other side of the mirror. When time is right When time has ripened And I know This time will soon be here While the light of life Still glimmers In my childish eyes

So that I can describe its beauty Their astonishingly colors and scents Things that no one yet have felt or seen Because its always here and now You can not run away from it Not ascape it –nor hide from it Just say it isn’t there It’s begging you –take me with you Take care of me ‘Cause I’ ll always be there with you And even if you don’t Tell no one my age I’ll always be tvere Right there –there where you are! Selma Kopic

Bosnia and Herzegovina

Your bride

I wanted to tell you yes, to approach you in a white dress with the footsteps of a frightened deer, to throw a bouquet in the air and call myself yours for therest of our lives. Only your hand could lead me

happily to heaven. But the white dress for me was never tailored nor did your ring adorn my hand. All of this is really just in my girlhood dream. The waves of life took us to different sides. Still, I am happy when I see happy brides. For me, their happiness is a sign that happiness exists, but not to shed a tear, I find it hard to resist.

But you can’t push time to the future

Temitope Michael Omotoso Myriam Ghezaïl Ben Brahim

Lagos

Unfairness survey

Tunis

Not so easy...

Like mice we are in this maze called world, Jostling forfreedom with we could afford, Through my mind a question goes pop, Are these scrambles ever going to stop?

We march as though it's time for war, Like pride of lions we tussle and roar, With heart of stones our objectives are clear, Success at allcost with no failure to bear.

Living like though we've got no choice, Unheard to world is the essence of our voice, Continuously we fight with no fair time to stop, Thorny is the path of our bustle to the top.

So hard to shake off yet with bravery we claw, Tigers we've become with the aggression of our paw, On we surge without thewill to quit, Hard is life with no choice but live with it.

Most are fine with my types looking on, Like hyenas we scavenge for leftovers to choke on, Rumble you must to lose your fumble, Your single with hardwork could get you a double.

The hunter you are or the hunted to be? More there is to life than the struggle we all see, Kings we want to be but are we ready to rule? Scratch to the top would always remain cruel. Just as the swell embraces the soft rays From dawn, from the sun, after the stormy night, Just as words are born from my pencil, Just like a story, told to a wise child.

Just like the quivering wave in his bed, Or like a beautiful eagle soaring through the air, And this myriad of established beauties

From a generous and prosperous Mother Nature...

I love you, like the wind panting over the wheat

Or the dew beading on a bouquet of roses, Like a child who sees a whole starry sky, Two more lovers who melt into osmosis...

It's like a hand grazing your skin, Or a frank look, far beyond the eyelashes. I tell you the three words, the ideal ones, Simply "I love you", it's not that easy...

Isilda Nunes

Esponsende, Portugal

The roses withered

The roses withered in the dryness of your gaze! I no longer dream of them, dear! I no longer cry for them! Our bodies, which were once but one, Today are wrecked in the solitude of outstanding words. I envelop myself in a interspersion of longing and lethargy, Fixing the old clock still, in a time that oncewas ours... At a time when we loved each other like sea and sky. And I petrify myself on that horizon, where my body was moored as a boat.

Reality derangesme! Frenzied by the echo of your tread on bare walls, this implicit farewell in the disquiet of your hands and in the downturn of your will! The slow arrival of winter disturbs me!

The roses you gave me have already withered! The wet kisses of yore, now they are parched fault! All embrace is expired! And the grooves on my face exude spent memories, loose pieces of a plot that is no longer ours. The mouth dried up in the refusal of the farewell, in this postponed death, suspended in the solitude of outstanding words! I no longer dream of them, dear! I no longer cry! The roses withered in the dryness of your gaze!

Kamrul Islam

Bangladesh

Language Of Silence

It still brings me to tears-- the palm-tree and its shade, A long cry for the losttune of virginity makes the creepers unrest...

Birds with its nest netted to fate and the fertile tale would break the language of silence. Among the reeds and weeds of magicians’ home a frost-bit scorpion recites the sin and the sinners in the same canopy.

It’s a drughouse,a mental crack thrives A blind bird wafting into the air to give another shore of mesmerizingdays ... The language of silence smoothly transforms the muddy desires into a journey of flowery dawn.

22

Jeannie Ashton

Bolton, England Ibrahim Honjo

Words can kill

Vancouver, Canada

How i built my own inferno

When the darkness swallows everything you hold dear and your arms can't reach to pull them back to be near

When everything starts fading away before your very eyes to a dark place where painful teardrops fall and never dies

Then loneliness wraps its self around you holding so tight and the coldness sets into your body too cold to even fight

When the end is your only friend that you're waiting for what's the use going on knowing you can't take anymore

My shallow breathing from the poisonous air of sadness congregating with darkness in a spittoon full of madness

Bittersweet words of venom lashing out to the heart like a dagger cutting each other deeply so far apart

Deadly silence after the storm lifts pieces of hate knowing that every tomorrow will now be too late

I'm hurting so bad I cannot lie the world is dying and so am I I know that you will not show up and I will die alone there, where grass does not grow and water does not overflow

there, where there are no birds not even crickets, or colourful butterflies where scrolls do not swarm in the evening as they swarm in the season of mulberries in my big backyard adorning night particles and making a necklace out of them

I will die there, where no one dear to me will come there, where you cannot anticipate, seas, or rivers

there, where the sky hangs like a hook

above furious rocks

there, where there is clay dust and groaning fades between rocks

there, where rain lingering on stones is falling from the sky and washing away its blue

I will die in the silence I've built for myself from pieces of stale loneliness

this is how my inferno looks

there, so look at my inferno

24

Lomas Kumar Bhatt.

India

The Eyes Of Heaven:

Devastated demarcation in life's horizon, Shown in nature's perpetual presentation, Of new beginnings upon old debris, Deaths glorified on it's reincarnations, Of course the beauty & glory of the nature, Rest itself in the realmsof the Blessings, Pellet-drum pronouncing, Announcing aloud, Heaven's garden blooming a sot, Flora & fauna become petals of pearls, Ocean's tears transform into nectar, With all worldly grif & sorrow satires, Now nectar turns to rhythmic laughter, Pellet-drum's miracles, Makes heaven magical, Aghora's joggling galactic twisting, No man's land now ceremonial ground, Mountain's rock thrilling in pulses, Freezing vain alive, Dead dancing on worldly satire, I too embracing dancing at random, On the grounds of countless skulls, At mid of the land & skies, Sudden a twisting fire hit on my nerves, Oh no! I'm in the mid of the pyre, On her chest she sleeping silently, At the center of the universal pyre, Now she awake with full of the zest, Pellet-drum announcing, Awake in your quantum, Across Her in arms, Fly beyond trance, I'm here to welcome you grand, Sudden I find myself, On the gate of the heaven, Third Eyes smiling, Her lips too, Secrets hold!

Gerlinde Staffler

Italia

Living Eart... The breath of Gaia

Gaia, a humming bird, flutters joyfully as does life on a green breathing planet, reserved for a strong pulsating strive, an organism that intuitively generates, in steady evolution its own story creates

One living system, which does habitually excel where even the smallest and proudest cell composes with swinging participation the picture of a miraculous and moving creation

With this extraordinary innate intelligence a sentient body, capable to tune into its own flows, requests to embracea moral conscience where each guest life preservation shows

Refik Martinovic

Tutin, Serbia

Parting

Please... don't touch me with memories and dreams which no longer waiting in line to dream of them because the rains have washed away all my verses dedicated to you and my rhymes run away when I mention you name.

Don't come again in the mornings of dreamy city under an old linden tree that shrouded us in the shadows it no longer smells like your hands and like the music of your lips don't let you birds land on the roof of my house and writes messages that love is eternal.

Please... don't go out in to the night alone that we would not meet by chance because secret chambers of my soul are closed for you. only wounds ramained which cannot be cured by time learn to live with them and be my chapter for some distant story. Don't follow my steps anymore they are empty as autumn rains which I don't like anymore I'm also proud of the pain you left me big as a mountain and you stayed just as a providence of imagination and dream and a short romance from spring to autumn Nwankwo Victor Avic

Nigeria

Merchants of lies

The media now peddles more lies than Satan As politicians speak from under their noses. The supporting pillars of this manor are volatile. They sordidly sits on sandy soil. No welfare for the minors. As the strong scramble for the spoils. This head is too heavy for the legs. As the looting spree is unabated The changemantra is a mirage. Green harvest but red pocket. Just handshake for excellence And big encomium for indolence. They squander with reckless abandon. Leaving the rest in squalor. Hospitals are like moribund morgues. Education is like a walking corpse The living are bankrolled by the dead. Even repatriated lootsare being relooted. Bandits are in red carpet treat. With kidnappers on the rampage.

26

Smiling home with handsome ransom. As terrorists claim more lands The chaos queries our pedigree. With wailing andunquenchable flow of tears. I hope to sing again for myland. When sanity has embraced our quests. When the thirsty minds are satisfied with facts. When fears and uncertainties has taken to their heels. And have all decimated this ugly hill Then love will breedmore truth and less lies.

Chandan Bhattacharya.

India

"Suicide"

Friend..... You are very established In society today ... So not! You've house, dollars, cars, wealth, Boys are established, Girls are married to good guys, Everyone is very respected in society, Your wife loves you so much .... Let take a test and see ! Don't die pretending to die! When you see, Then you understand, who loves you so much? Maybe your children will continue To share your property, Maybe your wife will calculate, ... What you have left for her ! Then, in shame, hatred, humiliation, Neglect, misunderstanding....... When you are crying You will see a thrilling scene...... Your wife is in love with her ex-husband.What do you do then? What would a friend say! Will commit suicide! What will happen to it! Do not commit suicide! The body will die. The body will be taken to the grave Or cremation ground. Where can the soul go? The soul will only suffer. One-third of the trouble Will rotate in the chest, rotating....... And he will say in his heart Why he has not remembered God In his lifetime!!

Kamal Dhungana

India

The Red

You always disliked it; the RED color I found out later, you had always disliked those red roses of valentines.

I wroteto you with my blood. You disliked those red love letters. You even disliked the red sindoor, I had brought to adorn you.

One day You, caught in an accident; were in need of blood. After your relatives' refusal, how come you accepted my blood? How did you like your colorful life survived with my blood? After all, that too was RED in color!

Auwal Ahmed Ibrahim

Nigeria It is not sellable, For no one can afford, Bogdana Găgeanu

If the Moon Can Talk

Romania

In this wee hour of time, We are all alone here, The sun has gone to bed, Only deep snoring disturbs,

The sky looking gracious, Beautiful in black attire, Illuminating looking by, The sky is admirable,

If the moon could talk, If the sky can say a word, If the moon can appreciate love, The moon will commend our love,

All alone we are here, With the sun and the sky, Having a beautiful moment, The feeling is oozing,

My love for you is very big, Bigger than any ocean, Vast than any mountain, Flowing into me like spring,

With you I am happy, By your side I smile, In your arms I am satisfy, With you Iam complete,

If the moon can talk, My love for you is forever, Cupid strikes

My fountain was just empty And you refilled it. You poured some love And some affection.

It took some time for me To understand your feelings And to feel your blessing In my life.

But now,I am not thirsty any more Because I drink all day Just kisses from your lips. I know it must be Cupid .

My life is an art

My life is an art. I breathe like there's a second I paint with my lost colours I write with my last words I walk,as if I will not return I sing, as if my heart is crying I dance, as if my music stops I worship my life. My soul and my heart Are guiding me And make art a way of living Art hasmade me free!

Shantos Kumar Biswa

The old Age

28

Ramesh Chandra Pradhani Mladen M. Tokić

India

The brave

Croatia

Dreams of white margarets

30

The brave are the ones who always speak the truth Till the last breath of life Who can raise the voice against injustice Fight for solidarity anddivine peace.

The brave are the ones who never desire excess Live for others and leave ways for others to progress Keep one's heart open to greet allin process Nowhere or nobody can suppress as blessed with god's grace.

The brave are the ones who controls five senses Can tackle all situations applying commonsense Ready to compromise and adjust not to disgrace Both friends and foes, smiles and tears they heartily embrace

The brave are the ones who are self satisfied Neither in happiness overjoyed nor in fear sorely horrified Dedicate themselves for the betterment of society For the sake ofmother land, language, culture and humanity Always the same steps Drops of autumn rain Steps generous Holiday wind footsteps Which resound with prayer Always the same bells The white snow Of a small Irish streets Freckled lonely face

Always the same steps Rains that falling Rains pouring down Over cheeks of tanned Down a stone breast Gold ruddy Irish women

Always the same steps The boys concern October without sun

Starless wars Unmarked generals Soldiers in ranks The soldiers march One by one Step by step Drop by drop The footsteps echo Always the same sounds Mouthfull of earth The laughter that comes From an unknown room Sunken cities Missing ships Floating wrecks

On an unfinished mask On a dusty map Of a forgotten universe

Always the same steps Always the same dreams From white margarets Wedding snows Spring is my darling The light is now going out The fingers that cover us Our hopes and fears Muhammad Abdul Wahid

Bangladesh

Majestic Women

Woman - are Mother Daughter and Wife Without them the world is an illusory life. If Women are always with us without gaps We can succeed by taking strong steps.

Beauty never make a woman beautiful Quality of lifestylesource to besuccessful. Those Who with great mind do great deed They are majestic in society indeed.

Some time they’re busy in paddy field to harvest Jute-rope made various cottage industries Without rest. Sometime designingdishes,or weaving dress. Sometime makingclay oven for cooking the best.

Sometime fly toward moon destination is unknown. trampling the peak of Himalayas where wild air is blow. Sometime sink in the sea to find perls no fear or shy. Ride Rockets to fly to find edge of the sky.

Sometime woman are bravely heroin To protect the just and right. Someday they are the source of courage. Laughing inbattling fight.

Some time they are proudly nobel laureate, Some tome they are rhythmic poet They stand for humanistic cause, any where Some time they are pleasant singer.

Woman draw art the on wooden piece. Design the flowery blanket with mental peace. Sometime woman are in playground and sometime helping peasants. Captain of family with a mood of pleasant.

Woman go to the river bank water pot. They fill the pot with water and swim a lot. The great women are profecient in all fields They are soft and sweet to speak mellifluously they are well skilled

After all their duties done they meditate toward Lord, They are decent and modest in and out, never become bored. In family and in society the keep their dignity protected. Every home beblessed with birth of such majestic women as itis heavenly expected.

Voula Memou Petrică Tatu

Grecia România

32 Beggars of the Gods of the poor The years passed quickly

God is so high up to hear me and I am so small and unredeemed, I leaned on the olive root, next to the demolished school of war. Iwanted to dream how lilies growin the ruin. I wanted the blood to be an illusion, but I was trembling. I hear Hamza crying, for her damn cloth doll. The Cyclops had been alienated, by abandonment, like ships that die late to the erroneous memories. Rustyscrap metal, of old fairy tales. And you ... Iniohe, travel charmer, in Delphi to make me a pilgrim and consuls of peace. Pull the chariot, let's pull from East and West, we were the land of the Dragon, to drive the peoples of injustice, with seeds of hope. To build brotherhood colonies. Asandali, I will live in the yards as much as possible, with jasmine the rockets of guilt, I will be filled. But I'm so small, before the great God of sinless victims. The years passed quickly I was left with memories, With dear moments and joys From past loves.

You were so happy

You had sunbeams in

your eyes, I really wanted you to be my girlfriend And to give you many

roses.

I tell you from the bottom of my heart that I loved

you You were good and innocent, I cheated on you, I was enchanted And I fell in love with another girl

And so from love to love

Now with regret I remember, That I walked from flower to flower

And now I pay for love.

Birendu Kumar Sinha

India

When life turns full with stress and strain

Time becomes heavyall efforts in vain Laden under the load of misery profound Don't feel crestfallen down on the ground

All we need is support and consolation A sweet sessions of silent seclusion To seek solace of cool illumination Woes and worries relegated into oblivion

Listen to the far forgotten musical numbers Or fall into the lap of waking slumbers A soothing solace of complete oblivion Floating adrift in blissful communion

Close your eyes and sit in meditation Enjoy the glory of blissful communion

Mariana Kiss

Romania

The frame of heaven

Spears of light, furrows the sky, Thunders of celestial drums, yes asparagus ... You hug me facing the ether, Wrapping myself in the wide overcoat.

The sky sheds itstears too harshly, Strongly hitting the hot cobblestones. Only the story of the rain can be heard And our hearts, which beat hard. We walk through the late summer rain, Laughing, loving us like two crazy young men, We sink into pleasant drunkenness, Withfleetingkisses among the acacias.

The rain gathers its feet everywhere, The rainbow takes the place of the cloudy clouds, We are still wet, we want to touch the colors ... You don't want your body untied.

We run through the colorless belts, Without paying too much attention. The universe cried, now laughs again Covering us with his handkerchief.

Apu Mondal

India

Your name, this day

Your deep black eyes See my inner feelings Your aged, freckled, Spotted face reminds Me of sea bed corals So beauteous, serene, Yourwarm smile is The spring of life and Light. I want to think More on you. Your Thoughts brought Deluge and hope in Those days. Now you Sit by my side, holding Hands, reminding me Of eternal love etched On sun dyed rocks.

Marivic Nemi Ganimete Jakupi Demiri

Philippines

Benefits Of Mankind

Switzerland.

I miss you

Beep sound of atmosphere.. Extended direct duration..

How awkward to be complacent..? An obscure bout to reveal..

Instead of being haunted by dimness.. Give it a try for perspicuity..

None of earthborn are obtuseness... Moreover in the sharp of edges..

Research for all the benefit of mankind.. Inconspicuous child of the sun...

Our quirks and deeds not supposed to the land .. Yet the silence ameliorative,supportive as declaring glory..

All the creations can hold together.. By the sourceof thy voice...

In sequence soliditary... Let us eradicate viciousness..

Immediate action of goodness was imperative... As looking forward for the tremendous shadow of futurity.. You were the star which lighted my nights, With your affection I felt high in the sky, You were the sun of my day, Which warmed my heart in everyway.

You were the best symphony of my life, Like beautiful melody of Moxart, You were a professional actor of my heart, And you made me felt comfort.

Now I miss you everyday, Since you are left from

me, I think and talk with myself, Why this love without goodbye ended.

Please turn me on -I am waiting for you, Please love me as I do, Back my smile like before, You stole my heart with yourenchanted love.

34

Šolkotović Snežana, Punya Devi

Srbija

That wall there...

Assam,India

My letter to nora

That wall there knows every secret of the soul, knows every tear that rolls down a person's cheek, those bridges of patience in a nightmare as they crumble, the despair and pain that imposes defeat. That wall hears every word that pierces the heart and insults with its weight, he also knows the answer to what you used to be what have you turned into now, who are those people who supposedly love you and in the most difficult situations they turn their backs on you. He knows everything about you, your quiet cries rapid heartbeat struggling with pain, record all the opportunities in your life, slaps that speak for themselves. That wall there has been your friend for a long time and wishes youa peaceful sleep at least once, drawing a line for the end is not that simple, nor hell that makes you worthless That wall over there ... keeps your secret, and who knows how many more, say once -stop despairdon't let your life be made worse by scum ... Nora, how do you feel now Have you ever seen our dreamed sky Where we could freely fly

You are the new women Pioneering the feminist movement Following you We have been launching a journey Delving to the said sky Walking out through the door Of your Doll's house Opened by you

happiness My dear Nora Closing the door of sorrowful house Raising the curtain of that Black era Do you feel We the women are in

Can you imagine We are nowfree and safe You see, when our girl child Go alone on Street Then we mothers Could not sleep

In the jungle of so called civilization Tigers hide in shape of human If they get chance Come out and steal their virginity Brutally done molestation

Gerlinde Staffler

Do you mind it In sometimes If something bad rotten in society Women are supposed as omen Then treat them as inhuman Women are burn for endowment They are given punishment

Till now girls are treated as goods For sale and buy So how far our Freedom of sky

Your father Henrik Ibsen Made you bold Because he understands What is women soul

But still now impacts seems everlasting What said by his predecessors Shakespeare is shouting ' Frailty thy name is women' Tennyson is flattering 'Men to war and Women to maternity'

All such mirrored Became inscription As well as tradition

Partly for these rock lines Our road to sky Become serpentile And hanging in the balance Like an interjection.

Italy

Pearls of Longings

This vast widely felt horizon Immerses its longings in the scintillatingsea, Where diving in, cool pearls bring along, Warmed up from the sunrays of thee.

Oh shells of beauty holder, You whisper gallant secrets to my ears Of magical rows of water lilies, Where drops of dew are gems, not tears.

Lulled by the watching terse sky, Feelings roll in opaline dances, Touched from the beholder's azure eye, In the haven of our golden fancies.

Adepoju Adeola

Nigeria.

Peace we need.

36

Earth has even wore the sad attire, Pleading to the combatants to cease the fire, The casualties have even cried and tired, For their souls have continue to wandered,

The war-mongers should come over the fury, Of what benefit will be the state of gory? Stop the warand preach the peace, For the word need to be at ease..

Amb. Maid Corbic

Bosnia Herzegovina

Last smile

Engraved in a pale photograph covered with hoarfrost and dust We languish palely in our dilapidated room, motionless Silence, covers thoughts vague

And as his heart flutters, he needs a strong swing of his wings To revive all old memories Everything will be as it used to be before it could have been Love to cover those little things that meant

He always knows how to fix that sleepless night, and he knows the Moon What secrets did life hide in the greatest debauchery and play The emotion of the shallows, they stir night and day for decades Living together while still searching for our existence

Or the spiritualization of life, because in the end everything remains Good story and good memories engraved in the photos Colorful colors in modern times, we see their wrinkles How they roll and mute in worry, and it’s hard to endure it all I move them like a heavy tower with my bare hands to keep them from sinking I extend my hand and seek the voice of reason in the game of destiny

The last smile, as if it were yesterday, was persistent Everything that is good and bad, happens and passes somehow And we are left with only memories engraved in the photo Cover it with hoarfrost and dust in a dilapidated room Stationary;

Because life has no retrospective,and I’m still looking for us And as his heart flutters, he needs a strong swing of his wings To revive all old memories

Muhammad Ishaq Abbasi

Pakistan

Come Spring Come

Come spring come, run friend run, Stop spring stop, papa mama talk, The air is gentle, the sun is mental, Birds are chirping, people are thinking,

I am dancing, friend is talking, Insects are creeping, animals are grazing, The grass is growing, the stream is flowing, Come spring come, run friend run.

38

Annette (Wengert) Tarpley

Virginia

The Lantern of Clarity

What suspenseful journey, awaits you in this book I will guide you with my lantern, together we will takea look

The author has created, a suspenseful thriller for you Be prepared for him to kill off many, survivors will be few

He will weave quite the story, his words form the web For the heiress was found to be dead...in her bed

He isan artist that can create, imagery with his pen Interesting, characters are...the women and men

You may think someone’s a villain, when really they are not The tale will twist and turn, understanding and clarity will be sought Dr. Prasana Kumar Dalai

India

Like desert miss the rain!

If you’re reading at night, you may be more apt to be scared You may be shocked to have found, someone’s life to be spared

Darkness...he continues to paint, on his canvas with black The Butler may have done her in, quite the erroneous act

Here, let me light the path better...so you may then view The terror and the carnage, into this book he has threw The tale has now reached, its final crescendo A revealing remark made, with a hint of an innuendo

Now all is exposed, it is the end...the long awaited time.... The fear that ithas elicited, the author would find to be sublime

I stop of the train... I am walking down your street again.... And pass your door.... But you don't live there any more... It's a year since you have been there.... And now disappear some where... Like out of space.... You found some better place... Like desert miss the rain.... You were always ahead.... I look up at your house.... And I can almost hear you.. shout down to me... Where I always to be... I have been hanging round your old address.. And the year have proved... Can I confess? And I miss you like desert miss the rain.... I can't stop the feeling... And there is nothing I can do... Because I see everything when I looked at you...