Poetry from Priyanka Neogi

Young South Asian woman with long thick dark hair, a pink knit cap, and a red top, in front of a pink curtain.

With Achievement

Everyone’s eye on the light,

The light is attracted to the brilliant.

Improve life by keeping in the light.

Everyone wants to live with respect and respect,

Many do not know that respect and respect are not cheap.

Gains respect in the work of achievement,

To everyone is valuable in valuable work,

Life is on the way to Tatini.

Achievement in one’s own hands,

If you work hard,

Your own life must improve.

In the hope of the dream of the dream, in the hope

Only if the equation of reality will shine the light of hope.

In the eastern sky, the clouds are frozen, the clouds are erased over time.

Life is shaking the light of hope,

You have to move on with it.

Fresh Character

Fresh mind fresh character,

Fresh water everyone likes.

Fresh thinking, everything achieved.

Rule of life, everything has a margin.

Fresh air good,

Fresh character proves fresh personality,

Create an awesome mentality.

Short biography: Amb. Dr.Priyanka Neogi from Coochbehar. She is an administrative Controler of United Nations PAF,librarian,CEO of Lio Messi International Property & land Consultanncy, international literacy worker, sports & peace promoter, dancer, singer, reciter, live telecaster, writer, editor, researcher, Literary journalist, host, beauty queen, international Co-ordinator of Vijay Mission of Community Welfare Foundation of India.

Poetry from Mirta Liliana Ramirez

Older middle aged Latina woman with short reddish brown hair, light brown eyes, and a grey blouse.
Mirta Liliana Ramirez

The sea and your memory

At dusk,

I saw a figure

I’m sure

it was your sign

telling me: “I’m here

just a glance away.”

The sea reminds me of you

The waves crash on the shore.

The smell of salt reminds me of you.

We were happy, here, in this place.

And today, I know you’re waiting for me.

Wherever you are…

Mirta Liliana Ramírez has been a poet and writer since she was 12 years old. She has been a Cultural Manager for more than 35 years. Creator and Director of the Groups of Writers and Artists: Together for the Letters, Artescritores, MultiArt, JPL world youth, Together for the letters Uzbekistan 1 and 2. She firmly defends that culture is the key to unite all the countries of the world. She works only with his own, free and integrating projects at a world cultural level. She has created the Cultural Movement with Rastrillaje Cultural and Forming the New Cultural Belts at the local level and also from Argentina to the world.

Poetry from Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa

Light skinned Filipina woman with reddish hair, a green and yellow necklace, and a floral pink and yellow and green blouse.
Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa

Wind of Desire

Ah wind I see you there so far

Windows locked entrance to bar

Yet I desire you like the morning star

Pros and cons in me wage their war

So warm and gentle your breeze

My battered soul you softly tease

Yet in coldness my heart freeze

Time has turned fermented cheese

Past betrayal and pains to avoid

Left a crystal crust filled with void

Dreams and inspirations toyed

Rainbows and moon light buoyed

Yearnings have ignited the fire

Poking the dying embers of fire

Flames to devour the wraps of desire

Cleansing the wood soaked in mire

Ah wind I see you so far yet so near

Window’s shutters blocked by fear

Yet you still whisper and call me dear

Walls and doors blown down to tear.

Dream Catcher

I wonder why the Native Indian dream catcher is made as it is.

Does it have a web to show the Complexity of Life,

Yet show all are connected because it is made of a single string?

Does it have a frame of a hoop as the Cycle of Life,

Holding it firm and intact, without a beginning and no end?

Does it have the feathers, for the heart to be always Light,

Dust away all that is evil, all the fears and worries and other negative spirits?

I know not, but a dream to catch I have,

May it be sieved in the web to cast the pride and selfishness away,

May it flow continuously in a hoop of hope,

And may it fly with bright feathers way up high

Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa was born January 14, 1965, in Manila Philippines. She has worked as a retired Language Instructor, interpreter, caregiver, secretary, product promotion employee, and private therapeutic masseur. Her works have been published as poems and short story anthologies in several language translations for e-magazines, monthly magazines, and books; poems for cause anthologies in a Zimbabwean newspaper; a feature article in a Philippine newspaper; and had her works posted on different poetry web and blog sites. She has been writing poems since childhood but started on Facebook only in 2014. For her, Poetry is life and life is poetry.

Lilian Kunimasa considers herself a student/teacher with the duty to learn, inspire, guide, and motivate others to contribute to changing what is seen as normal into a better world than when she steps into it. She has always considered life as an endless journey, searching for new goals, and challenges and how she can in small ways make a difference in every path she takes. She sees humanity as one family where each one must support the other and considers poets as a voice for Truth in pursuit of Equality and proper Stewardship of nature despite the hindrances of distorted information and traditions.

Poetry from Don Bormon

Young South Asian teen with short brown hair, brown eyes, and a white collared shirt with a school emblem on the breast.
Don Bormon

The Beauty of Monsoon

The skies grow dark with a velvet grace,

Clouds gathering in a soft embrace.

A whisper stirs the sleeping trees,

And dances gently with the breeze.

First drops kiss the thirsty land,

Painting gold where dust once ran.

The earth exhales a musky sigh,

As peacocks call beneath the sky.

Fields awaken, lush and green,

Bathed in nature’s silver sheen.

Raindrops tap on roofs and glass,

A lullaby as moments pass.

Children splash in puddled lanes,

Their laughter rising with the rains.

Leaves glisten with jeweled light,

And frogs croak songs into the night.

Streams that slept begin to sing,

Revived by monsoon’s magic wing.

Each droplet writes a tale anew—

Of life, of hope, in shades of blue.

Don  Bormon is a student of grade ten in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.

Poetry from Mahbub Alam

Middle aged South Asian man with reading glasses, short dark hair, and an orange and green and white collared shirt. He's standing in front of a lake with bushes and grass in the background.
Mahbub Alam

The Two Malta Trees

I was just getting ready to cut down the trees

The two Malta trees I planted four years ago

But there blooms not a single flower from then

I lost my patience and just took the cutter in my hand

‘To be, or not to be, that is the question’

Suddenly like a magic art I saw from both of them

The branches covered with flowers

My heart filled with joy

I stopped and waited for a while

Gradually the tree like the little ball blazed with the Maltas

So many Malta in the trees with the light of green stars

The birds are calling near them

Something heavenly whispers in my ears

The light of my smiling face reflects on them

I just came back to my thought

And found the path

Of the stretching glory in the belly

That comes to light at the time of the natural beauty.

Md. Mahbubul Alam is from Bangladesh. His writer name is Mahbub John in Bangladesh. He is a Senior Teacher (English) of Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh. Chapainawabganj is a district town of Bangladesh. He is an MA in English Literature from Rajshahi College under National University. He has published three books of poems in Bangla. He writes mainly poems but other branches of literature such as prose, article, essay etc. also have been published in national and local newspapers, magazines, little magazines. He has achieved three times the Best Teacher Certificate and Crest in National Education Week in the District Wise Competition in Chapainawabganj District. He has gained many literary awards from home and abroad. His English writings have been published in Synchronized Chaos for seven years.

Essay from Federico Wardal

Artist Federico Wardal, a middle aged brown haired Italian man, in a white coat and black scarf, holding a film trophy from the San Francisco International New Concept Film Festival. He's in the corner of pink and red walls at the American Art Institute.

A bridge between two major Californian film festivals and one of the most prestigious Italian film festivals

The fact of creating a bridge between overseas film festivals (California – Italy) is loved by filmmakers and is giving important results about their sustainability. 

Two films in particular are the leaders of this bridge between vesuviusfilmfestival.com directed by Arch. Giovanna D’Amodio, the LA Tribune FF https://latribunefilmfestival.com/ president Dr. Emily Letran copresident Joanna Zhang, vice president Elizabeth Nguyen, the SF New Concept FF https://www.sfnewfilms.com/ president Joanna Zhang, vice president Elizabeth Nguyen. 

Golden icon of a wreath and a film reel for the Los Angeles Tribune International Film Festival.

Here are the two films connected between the three festivals: https://www.kamilahthemiracle.com by Angela Alioto, narrated by global star Joe Mantegna https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joe_Mantegna and the short film “Anita” directorial debut of the famous composer and flautist Maestro Andrea Ceccomori with his original music, starring Wardal https://www.perplexity.ai/search/dc1b6c8f-95e5-4a57-94d8-90436abd44d2 “Anita” EN version https://youtu.be/qFqrswzoCTk?si=YyUdEuQmozR160lU

Photo of Maestro Andrea Ceccomori playing a brass flute with his eyes closed. He's in a suit with a buttoned coat and white shirt.

“Anita” Italian version, Portuguese subtitles

https://www.thetimesinternational.com/?p=165312

The three festivals embrace important areas: the LA Tribune FF partner of the prestigious newspaper https://thelosangelestribune.com/ embraces the Los Angeles area world leader in cinema. The SF New concept FF takes place in the Herbst Theatre, one of the most prestigious theatres in the world.

Red, black, and white poster for the Vesuvius Film Festival. Some black clip art film and text in Italian.

The Vesuvius Film Festival embraces one of the most famous archaeological areas in the world: Pompeii and Herculaneum, but extends to the entire Campania region, to its very important capital Naples and to the island of Capri, half of the International Jet Set. The Vesuvius FF is a partner with the Vesuvius National Park Authority, president Raffaele De Luca. ANILDD present in 17 countries, president Eng. Lino Marasco, is in cooperation with the Vesuvius FF which is focused on environmental protection and artistic and cultural innovation.

The film Kamilah the Miracle Filly fits perfectly with the objectives of the Vesuvius FF as it is based on the legend of the filly Kamilah whose life was saved, against the advice of all doctors by Angela Alioto and UC Davis and saving the life of the creatures of the planet means contributing to the balance of the environment.

The film “Anita” is based on the value of freedom, a value that certainly animates the defense of the environment. “Anita” is a tribute to the bridge between Italy and the Brazilian state of Rio Grande do Sul which gives rise in October to an event of worldwide resonance in Brazil, in the aforementioned state, in the city of Garibaldi.

The film has the privilege of having the supreme patronage of Francesco Garibaldi Hibbert, descendant of the hero of the two worlds (Latin America – Italy) Giuseppe Garibaldi. It is scheduled a cooperation among Vesuvius FF , LA Tribune FF , SF New Concept FF and Egyptian FF , Saudi Arabia FF , Emirates FF , Qatar FF . 

Poetry from Alan Catlin

Dusking

The end of

each day

reveals

a new kind

of nightmare

since the sky

became a menace

of birds

Their horrible

voices echo

in our ears

long after

the receding,

obscene coloration

of sky

had faded

from our sight

like bruises

lifted from our

skin and transferred

what lies overhead

Wherever we go

now there will

be no respite

Our eyes deceive us

Blood from severed

tree limbs stains

the mottled bark

puddling amid

the dead fall

branches, needles

and leaves

The small fires

that burn

the night smell

like dead wood,

burning flesh

We see the unnatural

colors of the flames

the wonders of

smoke that has

no apparent source

Listen to my heart beat

While we were

sleeping some

ear candling

was undertaken

without our permission

Remnants of wax

cling to our

cheeks and are

stiff on the ground

near where we

were resting

Each clot of

black wax

residue

exudes a pulsing

light that mimes

our heart beat

and the insistent

ringing in our ears

that leaves messages

in our brain

we have not been

able to decode

Hollow Mazes

As the marked

paths through

the Hollows

now end in

deer blinds

and cul de sac

we are perpetually

confused by

the simplest turning

in the woods

Low lying fog

and swamp gases

no longer

burn off or are

carried away

by offshore

breezes

Each maze

we enter

feels more

threatening

than the last

Ahead is almost

the same as where

we once were

Where we are now

is nowhere

A sleep wander

Almost by accident

we tumble

upon an open

field were dreams

go to die

At first

we thought all

the tiny crosses

were memorials

to pets who

were brought here

to be interred

Only later,

when we found

the polished skulls

of human creatures

too anomalous

to survive,

did we understand

the pet graveyard

was elsewhere

near where

the poison plants

were grown,

nurtured by

a septic water

source