Poetry from Sheila Murphy

Fault Lines

You talk like a waterfall. I’m lumbering

down rain. The plane of broken water toward

shame I do not feel. Your pain defines me.

Climbs down the fall to the splintered

pool I grab with both hands.

You blister my defeat with repetition.

You repeat my insignificance. I dissolve.

I hold my ears. I hold my own. Stones appear

as smattering blades of rain. Gainshares 

plummet. No runnels here. I hear your flint

voice voicing trauma you will never hold.

It’s cold again from here. You catch a spear

and wield what wildness might have glowed ago.

Simmering with strain. Fault lines beneath the strain.

Enclosed

Enclosed, we outlive our closeness. Beyond

the perpendicular pronoun. Warm we, 

second person plural, a better answer 

to the restaurant host’s “Just one?” The 

hungry body needs to lose itself, 

without strangling dangling participial 

others thirsty for speakeasy taunts, as if 

proximity meant all one, Alwun House,

a performance space in our western village 

bloated with population. In twos, shucking 

the status of MVP, a threnody 

before the spotlight on one deemed ideal 

for the role of icon according to

the ministry of prey, overcast 

with envy to carry forward an urgent,  

inextinguishable senseless oneness.

Recidivist

I’m on my way to taint the glyphs on trees. Freeze frame light of day. Board the traipse-mobile and go away (I’m on my way). Cliffs splay clipboards at play. Way north of gerunding, God willing. Recidivist splay. Rebel against the gains on hilltops retrieved.  A reprieve. Scope sequenced to fault the slow learn. Slow burn fallen (through). Who teaches you, the few. I wrap my head around the wrap around my head. 

Trawling the score named evermore, free lit freeway, smell of hay

Underpainting

Braille hums 

haptic heft, a fuse

lurking around 

future romp. Pomp 

and cirque-de-soleil.

Summer gardens

opaque with shine.

Toots Kinsky matte

finish. Surface gloss 

gone tame. Outer 

glass rough with 

source code grains.

With / Draw / All

With. 

Draw. All

morning. 

Raw

mourning. A longing. 

ensconced in 

brother 

broth once 

fair-minded, now

un-

mended 

sweat on brow.

Practiced 

preach. Long-

sleeved feral. 

skeet 

shot blood

on window

missing 

target by way

of cheap wheels.

Husbandry

Roller coast me close

to breeze viatical (remember

expectation. Bluebottle dit 

dot (pairs sans need 

(pared just enough 

for early breath. Shaped

pear pearl lid plot 

half 

injurious day-

glow (run from

penury (slow 

return to place-

based pain). Stain-

cropped (drum

plain page boy 

buoys no sprite

Just spit 

(split lip

Sheila E. Murphy. Appeared in Fortnightly Review, Poetry, Hanging Loose, others. Forthcoming: Escritoire (Lavender Ink). Permission to Relax (BlazeVOX Books, 2023). Gertrude Stein Poetry Award for Letters to Unfinished J. (Green Integer Press, 2003). Hay(ha)ku Book Prize for Reporting Live From You Know Where (Meritage Press, 2018).

Her Wikipedia page can be found at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sheila_Murphy

Poetry from David Woodward

We Begin in the Garden

synchronized chaos: plan behind the wild

a garden is

a tricky Thing

most see mine

                          as Chaos—

a lot of thought

has been put into

                              my chaos.

epilogue:

last year’s dead growth

mingling with the youth

                                         of wild spring shoots

how i love your juxtaposition:

the old giving way

but not before

                          nourishing the new.

between 2 worlds: life of a H₂O droplet

water droplet

growing

heavy

trickling

down

          a window

                            pane

                  meandering

                                   to where

                                 only you might

                                                                know

                                 stopping/starting

                                      deciding: left or right

                       bumping into sibling

                                                   droplets

                         they hitch a ride

                                                     on you

                                                              & you

                                                        carry them

                                                down

                                     to where

                                               the pane ends:

a new life begins

                     leaving behind a diluted trail

               a

              long snake

                that

              coalesces

                before

            breaking

                 into

                a

                 succession

                 of

                   water

                droplets

                   your

                children

                    dappled

                looking in/looking out

                     ready

                        for

the next generation.

ode to the ageless

i’m not good

    at being older

i’m too old

                    for that—

‘So take off your thirsty boots

And stay for a while’

                                    —Eric Andersen

and when we die

and when we die

it’s the soul we miss

it held the body

we knew so well.

Poetry from Rahmat A Muhammad

*PEACE ANTHEM* 

_With breath, tucked back into her mouth,_ 

 _A sister opens her heart to photograph_ 

 _The bullet she holds on the chest_

 _With grief, mixed in her coffee mug,_ 

 _We saw her veins, hemorrhaging._

 _Same as home, carrying weight of dead soldiers_

 _With darkness in our lives,_ 

 _Bandits visit our homes to build us a prison on our minds_ 

 _& with faces we mourn,_ 

 _There are countless people coming_ 

 _To pass through this gate of grief_

 _& With God on our lips,_ 

 _We’ll water the flowers again,_ 

 _With hope, love, a whisper, a plea for peace._

Rahmat A Muhammad is a poet from northern Nigeria.

Poetry from Shamsiya Khudoynazarova Turumovna

Young middle aged Central Asian woman with short brown hair, reading glasses, a floral top and brown jacket.
Shamsiya Khudoynazarova Turumovna

LIFE AND LITERATURE…

Aruz—like a soldier, firm in his stance,

Hijās chase each step, a tireless advance.

In syllabic verse, your fingers may stray,

Yet in haikus, thoughts thread their way…

Each day, your mind races, lost in its track,

Life—a strange script, with scenes thrown back;

Joy—a butterfly, light on its wings,

Grief—like literature, deep sorrow it brings…

Each fleeting moment—a novel so vast,

A film whose script on your forehead is cast.

You—a mere actor, fate-bound and grim,

Each wound—a lesson that seeps deep within…

As you live on, you shall slowly discern

Life’s aruz beats and syllabic turns.

Grand eras revolve, vast and profound,

Dramas and satires, where echoes resound…

Aruz’s pursuit teaches firm resolve,

Syllabic verse finds balance involved.

Should emotions surge, leaving you drained,

Should illness clutch you, weary and pained—

Then read, like blossoms, in wintertime bold,

A haiku’s wisdom, centuries old.

For life, the wise teacher, brief in its say,

May whisper its truths through haikus one day…

Shamsiya Khudoynazarova Turumovna (February 15, 1973) was born in Uzbekistan. Studied at the Faculty of Journalism of Tashkent State University (1992-1998). She took first place in the competition of young republican poets (1999). Four collections of poems have been published in Uzbekistan: “Leaf of the Heart” (1998), “Roads to You” (1998), “The Sky in My Chest” (2007), “Lovely Melodies” (2013). She wrote poetry in more than ten genres. She translated some Russian and Turkish poets into Uzbek, as well as a book by Yunus Emro. She lived as a political immigrant with her family for five years in Turkey.

Biljana Letić from Australia, with Balkan Beats on Zed Digital, Interviews Maja Milojkovic

Younger middle aged white woman with long blonde hair, glasses, and a green top and floral scarf and necklace.
Maja Milojkovic

INTERVIEW

With heartfelt gratitude,

Biljana Letić from Australia, Balkan Beats on Zed Digital.

Balkan Beats and

Radio 4ZZZ 102.1FM & Zed Digital Australia.

An interview with me has been published in the magazine Rasejanje.info.

INTERVIEW

Maja Milojković – “Poetry, a deeply personal expression that comes from the soul like a melody.”

Maja Milojković carries a handful of creative hats in her artistic suitcase. First and foremost, she is one of the founders of the poetry club Area Felix, editor of the international magazine for creative literature and culture Area Felix, deputy editor-in-chief of the publishing house Sfaros in Belgrade, and also the founder and vice president of the association Rtanj and the Moon’s Poetic Circle. Exclusively for the readers of the media portal Rasejanje.info, Biljana Letić shares a story about the achievements of the versatile artist Maja Milojković, told from the perspective of a writer, author, and poet. Biljana Letić is a native of Belgrade who has been living in Brisbane, Australia for almost three decades.

The multi-talented author and artist Maja Milojković, originally from Zaječar, Serbia, has a rich background in the specific creative field she is devoted to. She is passionate about many artistic directions, which she refers to as her “four aces”—poetry, painting, singing, and dance. This interview focuses on poetry, books, and the series of honorary awards Maja Milojković received in 2024. Maja’s artistic journey and her golden path to fame are covered in this story, along with two of her poems, “Follow Me” and “The End and the Beginning.”

Biljana Letić: How would you describe to the readers – who is Maja Milojković?

Maja Milojković: Maja is an Aryan name that means illusion or that which is not in Sanskrit, so my name carries a symbolic meaning.

Two in one – my SELF, which does not like to be in the spotlight, and Maja, who is extroverted. I enjoy solitude, while Maja loves fame. And so it goes endlessly – a dual nature that allows me to play with everything I’m not and to enjoy, unburdened, all that comes from this world. My vivid imagination is reflected in me as a versatile artistic being.

Poetry, painting, singing, and dancing are my four “aces,” and I believe they are gifts from God. That doesn’t mean I’m the best, but rather that these paths are the best means for expressing my soul. You are given life and talents—they are instruments through which you act, conveying a message you discover within yourself. That message must always be one that awakens optimism in people, inspires them toward self-realization, and transforms them for the better.

Last year, I became a promoter for the music label FORTUNA DENMARK, which creates fantastic hits. They recorded my song Egyptian Night, for which I also have a music video in which I sing.

Biljana Letić: Let’s start with the books you’ve published. Can you list all the books and awards you’ve received so far?

Maja Milojković: I’ve published two poetry collections: “The Moon’s Circle”, published by Sven from Niš, and “The Wishing Trees”, published by Sfairos from Belgrade. My third collection, “Be Like a Paper Kite”, is currently in preparation and will also be published by Sfairos.

Together with Dr. Milan Mladenović, I co-edited the international anthology “Rhymes from Rtanj” for 2024, published by Sfairos in Belgrade.

I’m represented in around 40 domestic and international anthologies. Also, this year I was invited by Dr. Brajesh Gupta Mevadev from India to be one of several editors on an international anthology from India. In addition, I worked on stylistic editing for two novels by Croatian writer Vladimir Pavić.

In 2024, I’d like to highlight the book “Hyperpoem”, an international anthology edited by Alexander Kobishev from Russia. It is the longest poem in the world and has been included in the Guinness Book of Records. I contributed a quatrain to it. This anthology gained international popularity and was presented at the book fair in Munich this year. It is also available for purchase on Amazon.

I have had a long-standing collaboration with the esteemed writer Agron Shele from Belgium, participating every year in the international anthologies he edits. A copy of each book is sent to the Royal Library of the Netherlands.

I’ve also collaborated for many years with Abdallah Gassmi from Tunisia. Every year, I participate in anthologies he edits, and last year I was invited as an honorary guest, along with several other poets, in Tunisia.

Six years ago, I joined leading global movements for peace, animal protection, anti-racism, and similar causes. As an activist, I have received a large number of awards from many countries. Here’s a small portion of the awards I received in 2024, among them:

• The Literature Award from the Academy of Ethics in India, awarded by the Academy’s President, Dr. Jernail S. Anand. This is, in fact, the highest recognition I received in 2024. Only three of these diplomas were awarded in Serbia: to Vice President Maja Herman Sekulić, the President of Matica Srpska, Dr. Dragan Stanić and myself.

• An award from Dr. Arch. Franca Colozzo from Italy, on behalf of GPLT for sustainability and climate change. She is a prominent figure in leading global organizations.

• Awards from “RINASCIMENTO – RENAISSANCE MILLENNIUM III,” presented to me by Prof. George Onsy, founder and president of RRM3 from Cairo, Egypt.

• An award from Nobel Prize nominee Abdulgani Yahya Al-Ebarh Din of Yemen for contributions to world peace.

• The “Golden Bridge” award from writer Rahim Karim Karimov from Kyrgyzstan.

This year, I also wrote reviews for internationally recognized authors, including Jernail S. Anand, Hela Tekali from Tunisia, and Aleksei Kalakutin from Russia.

I write for magazines from various countries. I’d like to highlight the regular publication of my poems in magazines such as:

– Synchronized Chaos from California

– Atunis Poetry from Belgium

– Polis Magazino from Greece

– and many others.

Collaboration with seven magazines around the world has earned me great respect from colleagues and recognition in many countries. I gladly accept invitations for cooperation because I believe in the power of international connection through art.

Biljana Letić: Where do you get your inspiration for writing poetry?

Maja Milojković: I find inspiration in prayer, in people, in life itself, and of course, in the desire for what I write to reach the human heart.

Biljana Letić: You’re inspired by Leonardo da Vinci’s quote: “Painting is poetry that can be seen, and poetry is painting that can be heard.” How do you experience that – as expressing poetry from the soul in your own way, or as an artistic ‘painting’ of poetry that is heard?

Maja Milojković: For me, it’s both. I express the poetry of my soul in my own way, and at the same time, I paint it artistically through words so that it can be heard – felt – with the heart. That’s the magic of poetry: it transcends visual and auditory boundaries, becoming an emotion, a message, a presence.

Biljana Letić: When did you realize that poetry was your way of artistic expression? What are the most common messages you convey through your verses?

Maja Milojković: I wrote my first poem on November 20, 1993, the day before our family’s patron saint day (krsna slava), dedicated to Archangel Michael, which we celebrate on November 21.

Since 1997, I began writing actively, and the central themes of my work are love, spirituality, inner transformation, the transience of time, and reflections on life and death.

Biljana Letić: The association Rtanj and the Moon’s Poetic Circle is something you founded. What can you tell us about it?

Maja Milojković: It was my wish to gather poets from Zaječar for the first time, coming from Area Felix, the only co-ed poetry club, of which I am one of three founders. In 2018, we went to Rtanj at the invitation of Dr. Milan Mladenović and his wife, Sve Marija Romanova. At that moment, I decided to appoint my influential and dear friend as the president of the association.

It later became a tradition to gather at the Sokolski dom (Milandar) under Mt. Rtanj, hosted by our beloved friends. Last year, we edited an international poetry anthology with the influential Doctor of Philosophy, Pra Milan of Luzice. I brought together 116 authors from all continents, many of whom are my Facebook friends. The anthology was printed under the title “Rtanj Verses” by the first publishing house from Serbia, Sfairos, founded by Dr. Milan Mladenović.

Biljana Letić: How can readers find you on social media?

Maja Milojković: I’m active on Facebook, and I have a website under the name Area Feliks. I’m also the editor of the international magazine for creative literature and culture Area Felix.

Additionally, I’m the founder and vice president of the association Rtanj and the Moon’s Poetic Circle and the founder of the Facebook group of the same name, which currently has 800 members.

You can also find me on Instagram, or contact me via email at: areafelix019@gmail.com

Interview conducted by Biljana Letić from Australia for the portal Rasejanje.info

Maja Milojković was born in 1975 in Zaječar, Serbia. She is a person to whom from an early age, Leonardo da Vinci’s statement “Painting is poetry that can be seen, and poetry is painting that can be heard” is circulating through the blood. That’s why she started to use feathers and a brush and began to reveal the world and herself to them. As a poet, she is represented in numerous domestic and foreign literary newspapers, anthologies and electronic media, and some of her poems can be found on YouTube. Many of her poems have been translated into English, Hungarian, Bengali and Bulgarian due to the need of foreign readers. She is the recipient of many international awards. “Trees of Desire” is her second collection of poems in preparation, which is preceded by the book of poems “Moon Circle”. She is a member of the International Society of Writers and Artists “Mountain Views” in Montenegro, and she also is a member of the Poetry club “Area Felix” in Serbia.

Poetry from Nigar Nurulla Khalilova

Light skinned Central Asian woman with short blond hair and a tight blue top under a black sweater, seated at a brown wood table.

Monologue with Rasul Rza

We shall meet each other again,

Oh, I do have something to say,

But for now I’m like a free flame,

I will fly so far and away.

Blue waves move like camels beneath,

And head camel impatiently waits.

With white spittle all over his teeth,

He is rushing his caravan mates.

And camels all from small to grown,

They are covered in will that is blue.

They carry their white marble load,

Barrel- chested they are moving through.

Sister sea is too tight in its shores,

They are guarding her and watching over.

But her heart really longs to be yours,

Over borders she wants to cross over.

Salty lips of the sea will remember

Kiss of love but it meant farewell.

Gilavar, the rejected contender,

Being jealous to ashes it fell.

And the shoreline looks like fields of gold,

Feet are sinking so deep in the sand.

And the footprints in that yellow mold

Look like gold bars that were shaped by hand.

Here and there just like toys in the childhood,

Are the sea shells all scattered around.

” Ring of turquoise”, that beautiful sound

In my ear are singing so loud.

Farewell, oh, my sea, my beloved,

You breed poetry deep in your womb.

So inspired, encouraged and loved,

He devotes his verses to you.

Nigar Nurulla Khalilova is a poet, novelist, translator from Azerbaijan, Baku city, currently in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. She is a member of Azerbaijan Writers Union. Nigar N. Khalilova graduated from Azerbaijan Medical university, holds a Ph.D degree. She has been published in the books, literary magazines, anthologies and newspapers in Azerbaijan, Russia, Saudi Arabia, USA over the years. Nigar N. Khalilova participated in poetry festivals and was published in the international poetry festivals anthologies. Conducted data in the Austin International Poetry Festival (AIPF), 2016-2017.

Poetry from Graciela Noemi Villaverde

Blonde Latina woman with a smile, a circular pendant on a necklace, a black top and a multicolored white, tan, and red patterned scarf.

Before It’s Too Late

Time, an hourglass that inexorably empties,

leaving behind the dust of lost years.

Its grains, irretrievable moments,

slip through our fingers like fine sand.

The heart, a scratched record repeating the same melancholic song,

a melody of regrets and missed opportunities.

Its needle, stuck in the past, prevents a new song from playing.

Hope, a small plant in a cracked pot,

struggling to survive in arid soil.

Its roots, weak and thirsty,

desperately search for a little water in the dry earth.

Life, an incomplete puzzle,

with missing pieces we’ll never find.

Its scattered fragments, disjointed memories,

prevent us from seeing the whole picture.

Silence, a heavy marble slab that weighs on the chest,

preventing emotions from flowing freely.

Its relentless cold envelops us in a profound loneliness…

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.