Ignorance’s Bliss

Have I not seen the beauty of dawn

I’d be contented of midnight lawn

Yet the pains of desire is sown

Hopeless pains of once numbed pawn

Have I not seen the field of star

I’d be blinded by neons lights afar

Yet not even diamonds come on par

The hope of peace in midst of war

Would it have been better to be ignorant

Following the instincts of an ant

From the sea of norm be deviant

Would satisfaction be a blessed grant?

Why must my eyes be opened wide

To the vastness of truth can’t hide

Confusion of uncertainty to confide

White, black, red or blue, gown of bride

Knowledge is power and poison of peace

When certainty knows not of wisdom’s ease

How much rain can be contained by fleece

Doubts and fears even sage’s soul tease.

War is Inevitable

In the middle of big powerful guns playing game

Neutrality is seen as a safe and wiser gamble

A treaty forced with one is historically lame

But dropping the ball will give us fatal shame

Four big guns on hands-off checkered board

Pawns to push, where no one wins, but the lord

Four chips are not placed, to protect their gourd

Secretly waiting for spoils to divide and hoard

Truces do not shield one from adventurism

Just a buffer for growing, survival mechanism

Until one is called by players for ‘altruism’.

A normal game for big players of empiralism

A call to see whether one of the four is weakening

They need to know who gets the most in harvesting

Though they are strong and science is advancing

Power growth development and resource producing

Both at same time is too much for maintaining

Supply and demand defeats technology source

Deficit in alternative energy and resource

Science has not yet advanced sufficiency

To the stage of not needing natural resources,

Be it in agricultural or mineral produce

Time, of course, comes when one cannot hide

Where small allies will need to choose a side.

Not from two but actually four stong fiery tide

But now’s time to juggle, paint over national pride

Neighbor in friendly alliances for mutual benefits

Symbiotic relationship for opportunity and profits

But all must be careful not get so much credits

Big Four shall check if we reached the limits

Hounds shall come for potential threats to diffuse

Tribal wars, distrust, gossips , rebels to confuse

Chiefs to change if interference foolishly refuse

Convenience of profit to harvest where they choose

Nation have agricultural, sea or mineral treasure

People have technical, medical, skills to measure

Be productive and generous, no alien pressure

Peaceful farms in long protected tenure

Free trade and cordiality as an allied gesture.

Yet I see non political people speaking

Unity in diversity everyone is learning. Resistant to racism and discrimination

Probe the manipulations and misinformation

People blending colors of the rainbows

Harmonious arc of peace everyone knows

I wonder how my friends see the world?

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.

Her words paint the world

Rainbow colors,

It fascinates everyone,

The poet comes to inspiration,

She draws colors into words.

Every color has a meaning,

The poet sees harmony,

Her imagination is very rich,

She hears, writes from feelings.

She calls people,

She wants peace for the world,

She feeds a white dove,

Between the lines.

Every word, every song,

The composition of his heart.

The voice of the heart is sung,

In the rhythm of a double heart.

She praises the good,

She suffers the bad,

She loves his friend, brother,

Against the backdrop of justice.

She has a wish in the world,

There should be no war,

Adults and children

May they always live happily!

The poet’s word box,

It is like a paint bucket,

Like a painter, a word brush,

 Look, She paints the world!

Elmaya Jabbarova was born in Azerbaijan. She is a poet, writer, reciter, and translator. Her poems were published in the regional newspapers «Sharginsesi», «Ziya», «Hekari», literary collections «Turan», «Karabakh is Azerbaijan!», «Zafar», «Buta», foreign Anthologies «Silk Road Arabian Nights», «Nano poem for Africa», «JuntosporlasLetras 1;2», «Kafiye.net» in Turkey, in the African’s CAJ magazine, Bangladesh’s Red Times magazine, «Prodigy Published» magazine. She performed her poems live on Bangladesh Uddan TV, at the II Spain Book Fair 1ra Feria Virtual del Libro Panama, Bolivia, Uruguay, France, Portugal, USA.

The Colorful Journey

Once upon a time, a little girl named Momo decided to go on a journey with her favorite animals. She took a red ball, a yellow fox, a blue bird, and a  black sheep, and set off to explore wonderful places.

During the journey, Momo and her friends visited many exciting spots. They played in a colorful garden filled with wildflowers, swam by a strong and beautiful river, and listened to the lovely songs of the birds. At each location, Momo and her friends learned new things: the different colors of flowers and how they grow, how clean the river water is, and how birds find their way.

Throughout the journey, Momo learned the importance of helping her friends and understanding their needs. She also discovered how cooperation and supporting one another made the adventure even more enjoyable. For instance, they learned to play together and solve problems as a team.

In the end, when Momo and her friends returned home, their hearts were filled with joy and wisdom. Momo realized that traveling is not just about seeing new places but also about learning new things, spending wonderful time with friends, and experiencing life’s valuable lessons.

Educational Significance

This tale teaches children the importance of travel and exploration, as well as friendship, teamwork, and problem-solving. Through Momo and her friends’ experiences, children can understand the value of helping each other, being empathetic, and learning new things.

Thus, travel is not only about discovering new places but also about building friendships and learning vital life lessons.

Ochilova Ozoda Zufar was born on September 16, 2003 in Jondar district of Bukhara region. Her nationality is Uzbek. Currently, she is a 4th grade student of Jizzakh State Pedagogical University and a member of the Male and Female Gifted Students of Jizzakh State Pedagogical University and a member of the student academy. She’s the author of about 10 articles and a Mental Arithmetic Trainer…

My older brother told me
Chuang Tzu knew all along
he wasn't a butterfly




That her cat was well-behaved
wasn't the kind of information
he was seeking




Poster of the most dangerous creatures
on the wall where he measured
himself




 The builder's boots
 at their ease
on the sunny porch




Nowadays
the shrine maidens are always
on their phones




Just in my lifetime
a man walked on the moon
and another pretended to bend a spoon




The time spent 
waiting for the governor to call
in a movie I saw before




Also the work of the cosmos
children chasing bubbles
in the sun




Hampering her graceful efforts
to move him off the topic
of spindle shells




He's writing the secret history of sock drawers
and looking for a little
light clerical work




Strolling the aisles of the Dollar Tree
I picked up a gold sparkle
on my wrist

Chapter 1: The Current State Of Being

We live in a time where it would be difficult, extremely difficult, to live and lead a normal life.

Back in the day, the need for normalcy, decency and modesty in every area of Interests was being looked out for. The family, community, work-place and general society would prioritize character in relation to any engaged endeavor.

However, modern-day situations hold different narratives. What was seen as morally upright in the days of old is frowned today. What was seen as evil in the past is revered in the present. Being a person of integrity seems to portray limited relevance as it has been substituted with the exact opposite: deceit. From family to society, the culture of what was seen as “good character” has now become a complete shadow of itself. The pop culture of falsehood, which carries an aesthetic outlook, is given a warm embrace by vast majority of people in today’s world.

Consequently, it is without a doubt that the world of today is so wrong that what is left of it is not right and what should be right is not left!

Whatever led to such transition of value, has constituted the current state of being of most people of today, regardless of income bracket, status and even conviction.

Bottom line:

The Current State Of Being: Being abnormal is the new normal!

Poem 1: 

In Memory of Donald Vruwink (Senior)

Your almanac was always breathing.

The heart’s imaginary twin

Will die. “We’ll all be lovely then,” 

You’d say. My bones are done, done reading

The soil. A clever fever’s scribbling

Its high opinion of the moon

On it. We’ll all be lovely, then

We’ll banish imitation’s sibling. 

The death of plethora seems tawdry

When thunder darts the dirt with thin

Flashes. We’ll all be lovely, then

Tornados will be riding shotty. 

Poem 2:

In Memory of Sol Sheff

Words are like eyes; we often fail

To see a thing until it’s said. 

Each poem’s a mental pyramid

That stands because of memory’s pull. 

The rough perfection of a gull

You stewarded in Jacksonville.

And in Milwaukee, there’s a thrill

That stands because of memory’s pull. 

The sun’s ushabti may console

An Army corporal on the beach

At dawn. You gave a crippled speech

That stands because of memory’s pull. 

Poem 3:

In Honor of Louis Pasteur

“The picturesqueness of human thought may console us for its imperfection.”

–       George Santayana, The Sense of Beauty

Nobody honestly reports

On the beliefs of others. Wolves

Explain what alchemy involves

To beakers blackened by beaux arts. 

You said that men who run from warts

Are like a bear that runs from fish. 

And logic’s like a petri dish

To beakers blackened by beaux arts. 

Your era loved what love distorts…

One cannot trust the naked eye

Which craves the novel modesty

Of beakers blackened by beaux arts.

Poem 4: 

Blackguarding Merles

You mock a dahlia’s faith in rain

And March’s hieratic pain

In Wotan’s one good eye. I show

The only serious dog I know

The absence of a final task. 

(His bark becomes so plateresque.) 

Jocasta’s hardship melts the snow…

The only serious dog I know

Is on precocious wisdom’s trail.

Your apperception tugs his tail.

For Tiresias, you set aglow

The only serious dog I know. 

Poem 5: 

Schtupping Philosophy

After Mark Strand

“If only it were so easy to soothe hunger by rubbing an empty belly.” 

–       Diogenes the Cynic, on public masturbation

 “Qui veut faire l’ange fait la bête.”

–       Blaise Pascal, Pensées

Fear pats the propaganda on

Each head. Hate rubs the belly of

Hypocrisy. There’s Puppy-Love,

Schtupping Philosophy again. 

 “O, History, you’re not strapped for time,”

She moans while strapping me in wings.

Her drunken master drily sings:

“Schtupping Philosophy turns wine 

To dust!” When we extremes do meet

In bed, what’s born reveals our chains

And all but holy sweetness feigns. 

Schtupping Philosophy, one ought

To pause one’s speech, but not one’s thought. 

Play Water Music, let all see

The truth’s invisibility. 

Schtupping Philosophy brings out

Third eyes. This post-renewal age

Can’t fathom seasons. Anger warps

Each blossom, buzzing does each corpse…

Schtupping Philosophy onstage, 

I feel the sunlight’s bearded breath. 

The earth lets go of hardness. This

Gets harder moonlight, as does Bliss

Schtupping Philosophy to death.  

Poem 6:

Ode on My Daughter’s Bat Mitzvah (an Acrostic)

“If faith is the sail on a relationship, one with a broken faith is a hardship. What do you build a new sail with when your faith is broken? Hardiness. Jacob is hardy… Hardiness is not the same as hardness. The ‘i’ in hardiness is a reaching hand; hardiness strives, it reaches through hardness.” – Madeleine Sheff, from her d’var Torah

Do not too aggressively light upon

Adulthood, nor too agreeably go 

Usurp its tumultuous limits. Snow

Greets every shoeless shaliach whose crown,

Humility, isn’t the brownest brown. 

Take Laban, who wears mankind’s to-and-fro

Every season, and his deceptive chatter

Richly to the bottom of Jacob’s ladder. 

Of intellectual hatred, we’ve Yeats

For removing any gray gratitude

(Tantamount to cemetery gates):

Haunted by it, your life’s just a bladder

Emptied at the bottom of Jacob’s ladder. 

Comedy’s cruelty makes men brood.

Oh, even tragedy must look away.

Muteness sympathizes with nature’s food;

Made wingless in wine glass novels by day,

All of it runs full speed from decay. 

Normal Saturdays are mad as a hatter

Dimmed by the shadow of Jacob’s ladder. 

May the chuppah embrace each ah! bright ray

Eternal nature absorbs from your frame. 

Nouns have more beauty than verbs; don’t name

This place Terra Terribilis then shatter

Seraphs at the bottom of Jacob’s ladder. 

A Song to True Love

Beacon in the storm, light that pierces the darkness,

taste of saltpeter on the lips,

icy wind whispering secrets to the waves.

Unbreakable refuge, scent of salty wood and rain.

Deep roots,

scent of damp earth and ancient moss,

rough bark under the fingers,

rough and firm touch.

Indestructible bond, deep and damp silence.

Crystal river,

cold water brushing the skin,

constant murmur, reflection of the leaden sky,

scent of clay and seaweed.

Constant flow, aquatic freshness.

Midday sun,

scorching heat on the skin,

blinding golden light,

buzzing of bees in the air,

aroma of honey and pollen.

Heat that penetrates the soul,

intense glow.

Embrace of wings, soft skin against skin,

deep joint heartbeat,

scent of jasmine and wet earth,

absolute security.

Perfect Union/

Silent song,

vibration in the chest,

deep resonance, serene silence,

peace that floods the being.

Serenade of the soul/

Silk canvas,

soft texture under the fingers,

smell of fresh paint, vibrant colors,

delicate brushstrokes.

Joint creation…

Secret garden,

fragrance of roses and damp earth,

velvety petals, soft touch,

mysterious silence.

Shared intimacy, vegetal freshness.

Eternal fire,

intense heat on the face,

crackling of flames, smell of burnt wood,

hypnotic light, burning warmth.

Flame that never goes out/

Safe refuge,

soft and warm blankets,

smell of home, cozy silence,

feeling of deep peace. Peace and tranquility,

aroma of cinnamon.

Endless journey/

Fresh air in the lungs,

changing landscapes, murmur of the wind,

excitement of adventure, boundless freedom.

Shared adventure, sensation of movement.

Intense brilliance…

Dream come true;

Softness of the sheets, comforting darkness,

a feeling of peace, sweet dreams,

immense joy. Complete fulfillment,

the scent of lavender.

Constant whisper,

a gentle breeze on the skin…

GRACIELA NOEMI VILLAVERDE is a writer and poet from Concepción del Uruguay (Entre Rios) Argentina, based in Buenos Aires She graduated in letters and is the author of seven books of poetry, awarded several times worldwide. She works as the World Manager of Educational and Social Projects of the Hispanic World Union of Writers and is the UHE World Honorary President of the same institution Activa de la Sade, Argentine Society of Writers. She is the Commissioner of Honor in the executive cabinet IN THE EDUCATIONAL AND SOCIAL RELATIONS DIVISION, of the UNACCC SOUTH AMERICA ARGENTINA CHAPTER.