Our civilized in wild tongue lick the vegetables; blood the pepper,
Giant enough to sting scorpion’s up our Stone’s
Yes Snippers wounds
BUT of the war of gods whom are strange and we slice our hands to lick,
Chanting crocodiles into our regions.
Strangers peep into the ocean bid of bowls as vegetable visit the bar on their tongue,
The motherboard gathers us in a destination where gorilla of new society are stock in the belly of females keep debating for whom birth it out
When the boy to seep from the cup of lit thick and the moon of ceaseless flowing river
Rushes down to the toe of an elephant,
Maybe our nightmares will drives us Long to where I birth out new baby
That will wipe away our scars in tears
And cleanse the raw looking of Old dining ( poverty)
I am devolution and revolution,
If am in the stage of first, I flash my network to sands of years back
How our images are reap God
and the thinking that laid in our neutral network now
Are deads then, if am the couplets
I envision tomorrow folding thousand days together
And I junction to a flower environment where I lick binta sugar
And it voice to me of
” Introduce your ash to him”
Clinging her hands to a light
And i hug her words as I pour out our challenges to. Yes he paved anew
Idris Sheikh Musa (Newborn Poet) is a prominent Nigerian writer from the heart of Minna. A member of Hill Top Creative Art Foundation (HCAF) national headquarters along David Mark Road, Minna, Niger state. He has some of his works published in magazines such as Legend International, Synchronized Chaos, Ikeke Art, and the Kalahari Review.
Graziano MARRAFFA celebrates the centennial of the film icon Marcello Mastroianni
I was working with Federico Fellini in Cinecittà (Rome) and during a break I went to the bar of the legendary city of cinema and there was Marcello Mastroianni who was talking to some film producers.
I introduced myself.
I was a friend of his wife the actress Flora Carabella and his close friend Federico Fellini.
We talked about Hollywood and Rudolph Valentino, a relative of a dear friend of my mother.
Mastroianni was often compared to Valentino, having an extremely attractive Mediterranean beauty.
Tall, perfect physique, very regular face, calm, kind, natural, strong.
He dressed in a classic way, but often with a touch of “casual”.
A huge success of Mastroianni was the musical “Bye Rudy”, about Rudolph Valentino.
Mastroianni is one of the most popular iconic movie stars in the world.
His way of acting is never “passionate” or overwhelming, but filters impulses and emotions through a mask that appears perfectly natural, but since it is a mask, it gives the impression of being able to change from one minute to the next and therefore produces mystery.
An iconic image of Mastroianni is the one with Anita Ekberg in the enormous Trevi Fountain in Rome in the legendary film by Federico Fellini: “La Dolce Vita”.
Mastroianni garnering many international honors including two BAFTA Awards, two Best Actor awards at the Venice and Cannes film festivals, two Golden Globes, and three Academy Award nominations.
Last September, one of the most eminent Italian film critics Graziano MARRAFFA, on the occasion of Mastroianni 100, curated an exhibition of rare film posters of the icon Mastroianni, illustrating his figure and giving precious information on the birth of these films in relation to Mastroianni.
The writing of a film is linked to various types of factors, but the artistic relationship between the author, the director, the star or stars protagonists is fundamental.
MARRAFFA is president of the Historical Archive of Italian Cinema which has a very important collection of vintage films and unpublished material made by world-famous directors and we hope that in the near future exhibitions of vintage films can be held in synergy with other important archives such as the Pacific Film Archive in California.
“Marcello Mastroianni, one hundred years after his birth” is the title of the MARRAFFA event which opened, last September, in Marina of Ragusa, Sicily, the XXVIII Costaiblea Film Festival, artistic direction by Vito Zagarrio, with an introduction by Marraffa and Vincenzo Cascone, in the presence of the Mayor of Ragusa Giuseppe Cassì, while, in a continuous cycle, the film “Marcello Mastroianni” by Angelo Piccione was screened, made up of scenes from the main movies starring Mastroianni.
“Every coin has two sides, but the truth lies in between.”
War is not only a frequently explored theme in Uzbek literature but also in world literature. Among all the books I have read so far, the ones that have left the deepest mark on my heart, inspired me to reread them, and encouraged me to share their stories with others are those about wartime and the people who lived through it. The characters in these stories are unique—their fates, dreams, and inner struggles are entirely different from those in ordinary narratives. One such novel is The Book Thief, written by renowned Australian author Markus Zusak. The very title of the book immediately captures the reader’s attention. This novel portrays life in Nazi Germany during World War II, depicting the country’s political and social conditions through the story of a young girl named Liesel.
Before reading this book, I had never truly considered the lives of Germans during the war—people from the very nation that instigated World War II and brought immense tragedy upon the world. However, The Book Thief revealed that Germans, like other nations, also endured hardships. It showed that ordinary people longed for peace, that they lived through extreme difficulties, and that they sometimes had only one bowl of pea soup a week. The exposition of the novel begins with Liesel Meminger, the main protagonist, being sent to live with a foster family by her mother. On the way, her younger brother dies, and at his burial, she steals her first book from the cemetery. The novel’s composition is masterfully structured, with a seamless sequence of events that keeps the reader emotionally engaged until the very end. The plot revolves around Liesel’s life with her foster family, her father Hans Hubermann teaching her to read, her growing passion for books leading her to steal more, and the hidden Jewish man living in their basement. The story ultimately culminates in a heartbreaking conclusion.
What is the turning point of the novel? One could argue that it is the moment when Liesel’s family decides to shelter a Jewish man, risking their own lives in Nazi Germany. And the resolution? Death. At the end of the novel, Liesel loses her entire family and closest friends. Death takes away her unfinished story. The most emotionally intense moment—the climax—occurs during the bombing that kills Liesel’s family. Interestingly, the novel is narrated from the perspective of Death itself, which adds a unique and haunting depth to the story.
So, what does this remarkable novel teach us? The Book Thief is not just about war. It delves into themes of racial and religious discrimination, the devastating consequences of war and conflict, and the profound impact of books on human life. Above all, it teaches us that even in the darkest times, friendship, kindness, and compassion are the greatest courage.
Ochildiyeva Shahnoza
Journalism and Mass Communications University of Uzbekistan
Faculty of International Relations and Social Humanities, 1st-year student
“Isn’t that your sister?” Harry said to Ben as they left school on a warm May afternoon.
“What,” Ben said. “Where?”
“Over there,” Harry said, pointing toward a green VW Bug. Emma was sitting behind the wheel, waving at the boys. “Did you know she was coming?”
“Why is she here?” Ben said, as they wove their way through clusters of junior high students released for the day.
“Hey guys,” Emma said as they approached.
“What are you doing here?” Ben asked.
“Are you hungry?” Emma said.
“I could eat,” Harry said.
Emma laughed. “I’m sure you could. But if it’s okay with you, I need some time with my little bro.”
“That’s cool,” Harry said. “I have a lot of homework.”
Emma pushed open the passenger door. “Get in. I’m starving. Let’s go to the Empress.” She reached into the glove compartment and removed a cassette, which she handed to Ben. “That’s for you. I made it last night.”
Ben read the names of the songs. “Fire and Rain, Gimme Shelter, Bird on the Wire,Universal Soldier. Cool. Can’t wait to listen.’
“You’re going to love Bird on the Wire.”
“What are you doing here?” Ben asked.
“I wanted to see you.” Emma turned up 68th Street toward Queens Boulevard. “There’s a B side too.”
“Aren’t you in school?” Ben asked.
“I have a break before finals.”
“Do mom and dad know you’re coming?”
“I’m not coming home. I just came to see you.”
“Cool. Should I be worried?”
“You worry too much.”
“Maybe. But it’s a five-hour drive. Each way.”
Inside the Empress, they settled into a booth, and Emma ordered a grilled cheese and a slice of blueberry pie. Ben ordered the same.
“You don’t seem happy to see me,” Emma said.
“I am happy to see you.” Ben took a sip of soda. “I just wasn’t expecting you.”
“It’s a surprise. That’s how surprises work.”
“Is that the only reason?” Ben asked
“How’s school?”
Ben shrugged. “Fine.”
“Junior high is the worst. High school sucks too. But you will love college.”
“Do you?”
“I do. The people I’ve met, the friends I’ve made are all interesting and full of ideas and goals. I like my classes. I just don’t know what I’m doing there. But you’ll know what you want to do. You love math. That’ll make a difference.”
“Everyone says that to me. I’m good at math, and it comes easy. But what if I want to do something else?”
“Then you’ll do something else.”
The waitress topped off Emma’s coffee. Ben watched as Emma poured and stirred the cream. He liked the sound of the spoon against the porcelain. He noticed that Emma’s pink nails were jagged and uneven. She put down her spoon and brought the cup to her lips.
“I’m not quitting,” she finally said. “Quitting is a bad habit that’s hard to break. That’s not what’s going on.”
“What is going on?” Ben said.
“If something is not good for you, then you need to leave it behind and find something else. I don’t have any clue what I’m doing, or what I want to do. And I’m lucky. I don’t have to worry about the draft if I quit.”
“Sounds like you’re quitting.”
“I’ll finish the semester and then figure it out. I need to find a purpose for being there. For my life. And I haven’t found it.”
“Yet,” Ben said.
“Yet,” Emma said. “Let’s go to the pond.”
Emma drove through the neighborhood to Flushing Meadow where they found a bench.
“Remember when dad took us here so he could teach you how to ride a two-wheeler?”
“Not really,” Ben said.
“You were only three,” Emma said. “It came so easy to you.”
“That means you were nine. That’s why you remember. I do remember the time you talked me into riding our bikes to Central Park. Down Queens Boulevard. Across the 59th St. Bridge. It was awesome.”
“That was such a fun day,” Emma said.
They sat together in the park, looking out toward the pond. A breeze sent ripples across the water. Ben took the tape out of his pocket.
“The B-side is just as good,” he said, looking up. “I can’t believe you made a mix tape without a Dylan song. Might be a first.”
“I think you’re right. I wanted to add one from his new album, Nashville Skyline, but I need to listen to it more. Have you heard it?”
“They play a few cuts on the radio. I like the one with Johnny Cash.”
Emma leaned back, staring at the sky and said. “I’ll go back for now.”
“What?”
“I’ll ace my finals,” Emma said. “Maybe I’ll go to law school and work pro bono for draft evaders and death row inmates.”
Ben looked at her. “Would that make you happy?”
“Happiness is fleeting. Purpose isn’t,” Emma said. “Maybe I’ll go live in Paris and be a writer like Baldwin.”
“Is he a friend of yours?”
“I wish,” she said. “He’s a great writer. You should read him. I’ll get you one of his books. Did you finish, On The Road?”
“Twice. I love it.”
“I’ll bring you The Fire Next Time, when I come back.”
“How would I see you, if you go to Paris?” Ben said.
“You should come back to school with me. Yes. That’s what you should do. We’d have so much fun.”
“You do realize I have school,” Ben said. “And we’d have to tell mom and dad. And don’t you have finals to study for?”
“I know. I know. I just thought it would be fun.”
“It would be fun,” Ben said.
Emma sighed and stretched her arms above her head. “I should take you home.”
As they walked back to the car, Emma jingled her keys. Ben watched her, memorizing the way she moved, the way her shoulders didn’t sway, as if she was holding onto something heavy, and didn’t want to let go.
Elan Barnehama has published two novels: Escape Route and Finding Bluefield. His flash fiction collection is forthcoming in January 2026 from Poets Wear Prada. His writing has appeared in numerous publications, including ParisLitUp, Synchronized Chaos, 10×10 Flash Fiction, Boog City, Jewish Fiction, Drunk Monkeys, Rough Cut Press, Boston Accent, Red Fez, Syncopation Lit, HuffPost, public radio, and more. Elan served as the flash fiction editor at ForthMagazineLA, a radio news reporter, and was a mediocre short-order cook.
