Poetry from Mesfakus Salahin

South Asian man with reading glasses and red shoulder length hair. He's got a red collared shirt on.
Mesfakus Salahin

Fraught

‎If this heart expands into another heart

‎A poem will be born

‎A unique mystery will arise in line by line

‎Every word will be multidimensional

‎A bud will grow in a disoriented, directionless vocabulary

‎Dumb, black, senseless feelings will find the color of a butterfly

‎Poetry will entwine its throat with intoxicating melodies

‎Light will be woven into the map of darkness

‎Time will reach its final conclusion

‎The poet’s tongue will be a rose in the gap of his fingers.

‎Everything that needs to be known will be known.

‎The landscape will change without hesitation.

‎Some artist will paint the estuary of love.

‎The horizon will expand.

‎The spring dreams will freeze in the raindrops.

‎Love letters will be written in all the orbits of the solar system

‎Excellent figure or indomitable form

‎Swimming in the lotus pond

‎Distorted imaginary reflections will converge at one point

Poetry from Shakespeare Okuni

Here Do the Ceremonies

Here do the ceremonies.
Here comes my messenger.
He is a kind of chameleon.
He has some meaning in his mad attire.
Here in this island we arrived and here –
Here is a box. I had it from the queen.
Here is a ring. I had it from the king.
Here, where you are, they are coming to perform it.
Herbwoman. Linguist. Soldieress.
Here come the clusters.
Here do the ceremonies.

This poem is from Shakespeare Okuni’s new poetry collection A Twist of Rotten Silk, available here.

Poetry and Art from Brian Barbeito

Nocturnal Winter Rain Resounding 

Many colored lights against a dark sky.

What does it mean? Then. At night. Suddenly. Upon. Upon what? The boulevards and asphalt and holiday lights blue green, yellow, red, and the coyote den somewhere impossibly distant and camouflaged by the wondrous and strange woodlands. On rooftops that are hats for houses and on the good drivers and the bad ones, on the snow laden meadow where the fox goes by and I have memories of summer days when the praying mantis flew, and the birds crooned and the azure sky hovered like an angel itself. 

Glowing multicolored lights up on wood, maybe Christmas lights.

Rain. Rainy. Rains. Nocturnal storms. Winds. I must have once looked out my window decades ago by hardwood floors with that oval carpet and my toys and books and posters, yes looked out at the winter ravine. Orphan psychically gifted, double crown and crown chakra open. In the house alone, guided by soft yellow lights and night light and spirit singing rueful songs. Evergreens across the way atop the hill. Knowing myself I would have stood and watched the drops against the glass, drops like tears upon the windows and sills. Nobody is listening but I am. Always. All this by paving stones and kidney shaped pool with black cover and blue water bags with red openings where you put the water after summer, all long gone. And the hills where the deer travel past sometimes at dawn. 

Middle aged white Canadian man, bald, trimmed mustache and beard, black glasses, with a red tee shirt and jean overalls.

Brian Michael Barbeito is a Canadian poet and photographer. His most recent work, Book of Love and Mourning is the third compilation of prose poems and landscape pictures. 

Poetry and art from Brian Michael Barbeito

Overcast

Barren tree on a snowy landscape.

overcast winter day, not much of a day but the sun tried to peak out here and there, if faintly, from the otherwise opaque firmament. walk and walk though. bushes and trees, many branches barren for the season, paired down to their essence. life a bit like some part of a dream. ridge and hill. ah bleak winter one must shrug and sigh and smile against your saturnine countenance. 

Poetry from Aziza Xasanova

Young Central Asian woman with dark hair up in a bun, a black coat over a white collared shirt, and yellow and black scarf.

Patience

The fig tree truly blooms — though people never see,

Its tender signs appear, yet hearts still fail to see.

Like feelings locked inside where no one else may be,

It whispers softly secrets days can never see.

Both peace and joy stand waiting — patient as they wait,

Dark eyes in tears hold love — silent as they wait.

A broken heart believes the fig will never meet its fate,

Yet all things bloom in time — everything must wait.

Xasanova Aziza Kumushbek qizi student at Tashkent economics and pedagogy university

Poetry from Sayani Mukherjee

A new life of the season

That haunts the Mayflower gardens

I keep my vigil high

No one is nearer than death

Alaska rides and sky high buildings

The topmost is nearer to me

My garden is full of sweet marvel

As I gazed upon the peonies high

The merry go round of life is at my hand

To know that dream like state

Where pansies grew upon the hedgehog smile.

Essay from Yo’ldoshaliyeva Zinnura

Who Is Actually Responsible for Global Warming?

Today, global warming is one of the most serious environmental problems facing humanity. In recent years, the increase in Earth’s temperature, the rapid melting of glaciers, and the rise in natural disasters show how serious this problem has become. Many people are interested in what is causing global warming.

The main cause is human activity. Gases released from factories, power plants, and cars pollute the atmosphere. These gases are called greenhouse gases, and they trap heat from the Sun in the Earth’s atmosphere. As a result, the temperature of our planet continues to rise year by year.

Another important factor contributing to global warming is deforestation. Trees absorb carbon dioxide and help clean the air. However, as forests are cut down, the amount of harmful gases increases and the natural balance of the environment is disturbed.

In addition, the increase in waste, excessive use of plastic, and wasting energy also have a negative impact on the environment. People often do not think enough about the consequences of their actions.

In conclusion, the main cause of global warming is humans themselves. However, reducing this problem is also in human hands. If we protect nature, plant more trees, and use energy wisely, we can help prevent global warming. Every small action by each person can lead to big changes.

Yo’ldoshaliyeva Zinnura was born on June 17, 2011, in Rishton district of Fergana region. She is an 8th-grade student at the Fergana branch of the Specialized School named after Muhammad al-Khwarizmi and also serves as the leader of the “Talented” direction in the Rishton District Council of Leaders.

She has actively participated in various educational and intellectual projects, including “Anim Camp,” “Future Founders Online Forum,” “Young Reader” and the regional stage of STEM subjects. Her scientific article was published in the book “Feelings on Paper,” and another article of hers appeared in the “Synchronized Chaos” journal. In addition, she has taken part in many other projects and initiatives, demonstrating strong academic interest and leadership skills.