Domestic Air Travel



He’s at

The airport now,

He hasn’t flown

In about

Four years,

A combination

Of Covid

And his London,

As he enters

The airport,

The first thing

He hears

Is one of his

Fellow Americans

Asking what

A terminal is.







Taylor Dibbert is a writer, journalist, and poet in Washington, DC. He’s author of the Peace Corps memoir “Fiesta of Sunset,” and his debut poetry collection is due out later this year.

FLOURISHING POINT

Few people flourish at one point of time because of their past concrete Deeds, but, at the same time, people criticize such people mercilessly for any gain without useful strategy.

EARNING FOR SUFFERANCE

People earn money for self and family happiness, but there will be no sight of happiness seen anywhere in their life, rather such people land in more & more problems with complicated tax evasion cases and ultimately such people suffer for want of peace of mind.

STRUGGLE FOR PEACE OF MIND

I don’t think so, there is Peace of Mind for any person. If anybody say’s so he has, it is sure such person is bluffing with an eye on some favor. But, it is sure that Peace of Mind cannot be purchased, but one will get the Peace of Mind by virtue of his/her good character deeds and discipline in life.

IMAGE TARNISH

The brand image of a person cannot be tarnished by anybody other than himself/herself, if his/her deeds, character and antecedents are not good.

STRATEGY FAILURE

I can’t blame anybody for my own failures, but, during the success period, had I maintained good financial management discipline and good public relations, the failure should have not dared to reach me, if my strategy in management and execution of projects was good.

NO FREE MEAL

One can’t work for free as there is no free-meal, but, free-meal can’t be given for free as at the end of the free-meal, management may ask for little donation like fund for use of developmental activities.

QUALITY OF FOOD

In olden days, the quality of food items was so good that peoples’ longevity was 100 years; whereas, these days lack of quality of food items makes the longevity to 50 years, it’s all because of adulterations and bad habits, as is evident these days.

PATIENCE IN LONG QUEUES

People can’t wait in long queues at ATMs, Banks and at Cinema Theatres, but, people wait in long queues for long hours at Temples to have a one minute God’s darshan, as this is linked to sentiment.

SATISFACTION MEMORIES

The broken stones represent the broken failures, but, molded stones are the success and concrete diamond stones.

——————–

MANTRI PRAGADA MARKANDEYULU, Litt.D.,

Poet, Novelist, Song and Story Writer (The Scholar)

B. Com, DBM, PGDCA, DCP,

(Visited Nairobi-Kenya, East Africa)

His honors and awards:

International Achievement Award in Authorship from IPRH, Philippines and Bangladesh.

·         Birland Government honored me with a One Pound Postage Stamp as an official Poet.

·         Global Honorary Advisor, Federation of World Cultural and Arts Society (FOWCASS), Singapore.

·         CIVIC EXCELLENCE AWARD 2022 FROM UHE, PERU

·         Rabindranath Tagore Literary Honor 2022

            (Government of Seychelles, Motivational Strips and SIPAY Journal)

·         CESAR VALLEJO AWARD 2021, 2022 and 2023 (3 Years) UHE, Peru for Literary Excellence WORLD WRITERS’ UNION Peru

·         Gujarat Sahitya Academy and Motivational Strips LITERARY EXCELLENCE Honor

·         Honored with “Royal Kutai Mulawarman Peace International Institute, Philippines”

·         Royal Success International Book of Records 2019 Honor, Hyderabad-

·         The Silver Shield Award from UHE, Peru for my Literary Excellence 2021.

·         2021 GOLDEN EAGLE WORLD AWARD FOR LITERARY EXCELLENCE, Peru.

·         The Scholar, Institute of Scholars Research Excellence Award-2020, Bangalore (India)

·         Hon. Doctorate in Literature from ITMUT, Brazil. (2019)

·         State of Birland at Bir Tawil Recognized Poet

 …………

·         Mr. Mantri Pragada Markandeyulu, Litt.D., is a retired Public Sector Enterprise Officer from Hyderabad (India).

·         He is the Deputy-Editor-In-Chief of www.petruska-nastamba.com (Serbia/Belgrade) eMagazine.

·         He is the Editorial Committee Member of THE PANACHE, eMagazine from Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh, India (https://www.aadhyapublication.in)

·         He has worked in few News Papers (English) in Editorial Department.

·         He is also the Trainer in Motivational Management Programs.

·         He has published 75+ books with ISBN (Stories, Novels, Poems, Articles, Short Stories, Quotes etc) English/Telugu.

·         His stories are useful for making Movies, TV series, Web Series.

Address: Plot No. 37, Anupuram, ECIL Post, Hyderabad-500062 Telangana State – India

+91-9951038802, +91-8186945103, Email: mrkndyl@gmail.com, Twitter: @mrkndyl68

With Notes of Irony

Call it dogged by bad luck.
Call it a fool’s prophecy.
Call it fate lighting a cigarette
after it fucks you in the arse.
Call it an albatross around your neck.
Call it an ancestral curse.

Blame it on crossing paths with a black cat.
Blame it on your astrological sign.
Blame it on the neighbour who dabbles
in witchcraft. Blame it on the devil.
Blame it on your treacherous spouse
for opening an umbrella
inside the house. Blame it on a bad penny.
Blame it on a broken mirror.
Blame it on the politician you elected.
Blame it on old age.
Blame it on the youth of today.

Say to yourself you deserve it all.
Say it with gusto.
Say it’s one giant goat rodeo.
Say it’s too late to turn it around.
Say it while donning the paint of a tragic clown.
Say it with self-entitlement.

But for pity’s sake, never say
it’s the sum of your choices.

GREAT FATHER

You will never understand me, Son. 
Now, 
when you walk down a colorful 

street in Copenhagen, you see two dealers 
and a huge balloon-like rat. 
Enjoy this view! 

You will never understand me, Son. 
Admire the ladies who put lace panties 
in their bags. 

Enjoy your life while you can.








ARMAGEDDON DAYS

There was nothing unusual about it. 

Children played in the squares, 
and alcoholics slowly drank beer 
on the benches. 

The sun suddenly changed its color. 

The policeman fired 
a bullet, 
but it hit the nearby trees. 

And the world ceased to exist.






CONVERSATIONS WITH THE PROPHETS

I'm looking for happiness, could you 
advise me on how to find it?

And what is happiness for you?

That's what I don't know, I'm tracking 
happiness to no avail.

Once you find it, come to me again.

Then I won't need you anymore.

You have it within you, but you must first 
see the man with the bird's head 
on the solar orb.

It's too complicated.

Happiness is not a watermelon thrown 
in the trash.

Grzegorz Wróblewski was born in 1962 in Gdańsk and grew up in Warsaw. Since 1985 he has been living in Copenhagen. English translations of his work are available in Our Flying Objects (trans. Joel Leonard Katz, Rod Mengham, Malcolm Sinclair, Adam Zdrodowski, Equipage, 2007), A Marzipan Factory (trans. Adam Zdrodowski, Otoliths, 2010), Kopenhaga (trans. Piotr Gwiazda, Zephyr Press, 2013), Let’s Go Back to the Mainland (trans. Agnieszka Pokojska, Červená Barva Press, 2014), Zero Visibility (trans. Piotr Gwiazda, Phoneme Media, 2017). Asemic writing book Shanty Town (Post-Asemic Press, 2022).

Three Poems


By Chinese Poet Hongri Yuan

Translated by Yuanbing Zhang

 

Heaven's Song

 

In heaven where there has no night.

ln heaven where there has no the sun or the moon.

In heaven where everyone is the stars.

In heaven where the time is the light of the soul.

In heaven where the space is the smile of the soul.

In heaven where I have another name–

I am one of the gods, have no idea

about the sorrows and joys of the word.

01.16.2019

 

天堂之歌

 

在天堂没有黑夜

在天堂没有日月

在天堂每个人都是星辰

在天堂时间是灵魂之光

在天堂空间是灵魂的笑容

在天堂 我是另一个名字

是诸神之中的一个 不知人间的悲喜

2019.01.16

 

Never-withering Flowers from Paradise

 

I pick the gem flowers from the heavens,

and write a music of memory for you.

Let you suddenly wake up and see the long-lost hometown again

let you ride the melody of light

to fly into the ninety-nine skies.

Where the palaces and towers are yours,

where the gardens are as huge as the universe

and the time will never elapse,

blooming like the never-withering flowers from paradise.

01.16.2020

 

 

不知凋谢的仙葩

 

我采撷天国的宝石之花

为你写一首记忆之曲

让你恍然醒来 再次见到久违的故园

让你乘着光芒的旋律

飞到那九十九层云霄之上

那儿的宫殿楼台 皆是你的所有

那儿的花园巨大 仿佛整个宇宙

而时光永远不会流逝

盛开如不知凋谢的仙葩

2020.01.16

 

Strings of The Light of Dawn

 

When I plucked strings of the light of dawn

A golden lightning burned a huge city

The undulating hills in distance twinkled the ruby smile

Vaguely there came acoustic resonance of the bell

from the centervault of heaven

Who have seen that the palace was towering outside the sky

The gods smiled with stately grace and raised their glass

Female celestials shed datura flowers flying all over the sky.

And a large ship approached from another galaxy

They came from a huge platinum city

Their ships were much faster than the speed of light

Ever visited the earth billions of years ago

They brought new technology

To make the steel have a wonderful spiritualism

Their eyes can perceive the heaven and the world

Heart is as bright as the sun

And body is as transparent as diamond

01.13.2018

 

黎明之光的琴弦

 

当我弹拨这黎明之光的琴弦

一道金色闪电燃烧了一座巨城

远方起伏的群山闪烁红宝石的笑容

天穹的中央隐隐传来钟磬的和鸣

谁看见那天外的金殿巍巍

诸神庄严含笑

举杯庆贺

天女洒下了漫天的曼陀罗花

而一艘巨轮正在另一个星系驶来

他们来自一座白金巨城

他们的飞船比光速更快

亿万年前曾访问地球

他们带来了新的科技

让钢铁拥有奇妙的灵性

他们的眼睛可透视天地

心灵光灿如太阳

而身体透明如钻石

2018.01.13

 

Bio:

Hongri Yuan (b. 1962) is a Chinese mystic poet and philosopher. His poetry has been widely published in the UK, USA, India, New Zealand, Canada and Nigeria. He has authored a number books including Platinum City, The City of Gold, Golden Paradise, Gold Sun and Golden Giant.

 

About the Translator

Yuanbing Zhang (b. 1974), who is a Chinese poet and translator, works in a Middle School, Yanzhou District , Jining City, Shandong Province, China. He can be contacted through his email- 3112362909@qq.com.

Phone:+86 15263747339 Email:3112362909@qq.com

Address:No.18 middle school Yanzhou District ,Jining City, Shandong Province, China

 

mumbling
 

sitting in a

waiting room

mumbling

to myself

 

this how the

poems are

made folks

 

there's another

guy sitting a few

chairs over, he's

looking at me

 

i start to mumble

louder, hoping

he will move

 

he got up and

walked to the

other side

 

and they say i

don't know how

to handle being

in public
------------------------------------------------------------
all the miles between them
 

the devil is a soft-skinned

mistress somewhere in

minnesota

 

the foul-mouthed madman

is comfortable in his lonely

life in ohio

 

misery is all the miles

between them

 

there is little chance this

will end up as a lifetime

movie
------------------------------------------------------------------
stay quiet about the dirty dreams
 

is it better to

exist or live

like a fool

 

love a whore

or stay quiet

about the dirty

dreams of the

pastor's daughter

 

make fun of the

homeless or give

them a new brown

paper bag for their

alcohol

 

i often find myself

sitting at a red light

blasting music from

a century or two ago

 

i get some funny

looks but every

once in a while

an old soul will

nod in approval

 

when that happens

i immediately

change the channel

 

i stopped being a

monkey for your

attention years ago

 

at least have the

decency to make

one believe there

will be some money

involved
--------------------------------------------------------------------
darkness is an old friend
 

i have lucid

nightmares

that creep

into my

thoughts in

the middle

of the day

 

i can still

taste my

cousin's

nipple in

my mouth

all these

years later

 

i still

remember

how cold

the bathroom

floor was

 

darkness

is an old

friend

 

but at times

it likes to

leave me

crippled

and begging

for death

 

one of these

days i'll be

free at last
--------------------------------------------------------------
might as well throw out a few bombs
 

never fall in love with

the wrong woman

 

the beautiful one with

a great memory

 

the type of woman that

remembers every stupid

thing you ever said in

a fight

 

especially the really

cruel shit that was

meant to hurt her

 

because you thought

well, we're never going

to speak again, might

as well throw out a few

bombs

 

those women will haunt

your dreams until you

die

 

they will remind you

of all that stupid shit

you said at any moment

they deem necessary

 

i suppose this is what

i get for remembering

someone's birthday

 

if i truly was the fucking

asshole i am being accused

of

 

i certainly would have

forgotten the fucking

day

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is trapped in suburbia, plotting his escape. He has been widely published over the years, most recently at Horror Sleaze Trash, Cajun Mutt Press, Mad Swirl, Disturb the Universe Magazine and The Rye Whiskey Review. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)