The Last Words 2024

June, a knife that opened my chest,

leaving a void where affection beat.

Your absence, a winter that freezes my being,

a deep silence that I cannot overcome.

I remember your laughter, a sun that no longer shines,

your gaze, a lighthouse that the night has buried.

Now only an echo of your voice remains,

a distant whisper that the wind took away.

My heart, a boat adrift in the sea,

without a rudder, without a compass, without a direction to reach.

Tears, waves that break on the shore,

a torrent of pain that my soul distills.

But in the silence, a faint glow,

the memory of your love, an eternal glow.

And although pain oppresses me, and sorrow hurts me,

your memory will live, as long as my soul sighs, dear husband.

Rest in peace.

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.

Figure of Life

Life is a figure of multi things (history and mystery) we know

We realize this before the eyes

Experienced so good in the moderate weather

So bitter in cold or hot

Life charmed with you

Life bleeds on the leaves in the ground

We pay tribute to the Almighty

We shoot, we arrange tribunals

Justice never comes out

Justice lives in the heart,

Though we leap not looking before

People fight, people die

To see this weapon play

Our Almighty laughs from above

Though the moon still shines in the darkness

The ship can mark the right way in the mid sea

The magnetic power always works from all sides

Make us stable to live in joy and peace

Makes us feel how to make a bond of love

Then why we intrigue for hurting others

If one part cries in pain

The other part must suffer for long

This or that time

Then what’s the life figured out?

‘Think thyself’, reflects clean before the glass.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

26  November, 2024.

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.

Predestined

Though fate or destiny cannot be denied,

I shall choose my own path.

I may suffer the thorns,

be bruised and cut by granite rocks,

risk falling down the deadly cliffs

and be wearied and lost in numerous routes,

I will have no regrets.

For in my travelling towards my destiny,

I shall have the pleasure to smell the flowers,

breathe in the free wind,

touch the softness of cool grass and soft sand.

Destiny may be predetermined

but it is the journey that really matters.

Me and my Shadow

I do not reject my shadow

For only in my light it can show

In darkness, shadow is hidden

By negativity, triple be mean.

Just like I have my light in me

So is my shadow that I can see

Anger, impatience, fear and more

A part of me that I must not abhor

Shadow, I must not repress or deny

To be seen with only light in life is a lie

I just need to learn how to control

A part of my healing, that’s my goal.

As I step out of my dark cage

Let me in reality truly engage

Disconnect from what hinders

Into true love, my soul lingers

Duties and commitment are all done

All my shackles and burden be gone

Angels and friends to thank each day

Now, my light and shadow can play.

Let all wounds and pains heal

Only positivity and hope to feel

With faith, let mind rule over matter

Healing inside, change for the better

Me and my shadow are one

In acceptance, battle is won

I am both the Yin and the Yang

Balancing, having peace, I can.

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.

Proverbs 35

You have been told

a harlot is a deep ditch, 

a dangerous pit.

She is a cave of spirits

awaiting judgement,

a tomb under a foundation stone.  

When the priests enter 

the holy of holies,

they cannot hear the wailing souls.

You have been told

avoid the trap of women.

Death is in their blood and breath.

It’s been said god lives in incense 

and the steam of slaughter. 

From the mercy seat, he sees.

But you are lost 

in the tabernacle curtains

and its overlapping veils.

When you hide from him

in a closet of wire and winter coats,

pray she saves you.

Beg her to send you 

the vacuum chord to guide you out. 

Rejoice, she can find you in the dark.

She is the cave of spirits

and the mercy seat. 

She breathes the breath of life.  

Epilogue to a Decade

Our fireplace grate cradles 

a fragile stack of bones 

crackling gently like charred sticks.

Wind pulls hissing smoke

up the wall of stones.

When the house ripped down its center

and April wind came roaring in,

our banister got smashed to splinters,

mail crushed between the spindles—

our stairs already rotted like sin.  

Failing day chokes for its breath, 

and dusk turns to wounded night—

so things end like an escaping balloon 

in the thick black sky, as a final gavel 

in the carnival’s last light.

Catherine Zickgraf

Two lifetimes ago, Catherine performed her poetry in Madrid. Now her main jobs are to write and hang out with her family. Her work has appeared in Pank, Deep Water Literary Journal, and The Grief Diaries. Her chapbook, Soul Full of Eye, is published through Kelsay Books.

Find her in the Bluesky. Watch/read more at www.caththegreat.blogspot.com

In A Whisper

In a whisper pupil invites you

To the ancient way

To fly with me.

The moon spreads it’s heart

That beats in a logic circle

To provide love and truth.

The southern wind kisses the circle

The circle touches the fountain of love.

Ah ! A heavenly tune welcomes you

To come and hold me.

The spring is ready to adorn love

And the fairy time for you.

See the sea

The waves are dancing

The sea- birds are singing

The sailors are binding dreams

The ships are bound for your love.

A PAGE FROM MY LIFE AS A WRITER 

I recap the day I received my first rejection letter. It was a crisp, cold, white envelope, sealed tight, a typed letter inside, with painful news tonight. Disappointment delivered, in formal lines, ending hopes, with words that cut like knives, saying in the later: “Dear poet, Thank you so much for your wonderful submission. Unfortunately, after a careful evaluation of your work, we have decided to pass on it. We hope to receive more from you in the future.” I was 31 years old, and it felt like the end of the world. 

But I didn’t give up. I held on to that glimmer-of-light, took a deep breath, revised my manuscript, reviewed it, & edited it to my humble satisfaction. I now learned to submit with a wise approach; to read each literary magazine, with a careful eye to tailor my words to their poetic tide. With that method from that day on, I became a reader & that writer who has never come across rejection has never submitted. Meanwhile, as a writer, you have to be patient & humble. That moment taught me the value of persistence. Writing is a journey of twists and turns, rejections and acceptances. It’s easy to get discouraged, but the true test of a writer’s mettle is their ability to keep going.

Salihu Muhammad Ebba (Legend Bard) is a budding writer, poet & easyiest  from Niger state. is a bright and ambitious individual, currently studying At Legend International School Minna with a strong foundation from Guided Medal Model School, Minna. He is also a member of Hil-top Creative Act Foundation (HCAF), He was driven into the world to succeed and make a meaningful impact on the society.