On the road there was
a man looked lonely
as vistas of the road
brought togetherness.
The man waited for a car
or bus. The wait, interminable.
Brought togetherness, with
childhood of days
that brought togetherness.
and recycles of lostness.
brought togetherness
the road seemed hollow
like deep within
brought togetherness.
Ananya S Guha
Shillong, INDIA.
NIGHT OF THE CURACH
I want to live
Where the sea is the end of the world
And the curach sways
Sweet as the nightingale
In the melody of the galan
To her sweet high-pitched thorn
I surrender
To the curach’s guttural waves and chatter
Bleeding ink across the bay
Through the eyes of Inishturk
Cast your nets
To the Trinity’s lone hand
That waits
In the driftwood
In the smoke on the hills, moves a hush
Till evening comes in
In its enormity
Let the end of the world
Wash over me
In your golden lugent hair
Sweet Niamh
Where the black curach sways as
Sweet as the nightingale
In the stillness of
A dodecahedron
Isn’t that how the world
Took your mind
In Reading Gaol
In the night of the curach
I am perched upon
Such worlds
Self portrait from my spiderwebs
drenched in milky moonlight, i climb
up to my home in the tangled branches, among my webs.
rain plummets onto soft blades of grass,
from the spiderwebs i see myself in puddles of water;
the ever-changing reflection i know i must confront.
i am stuck between the comforting earth and the freeing sky,
a malfunction where the body meets the mind.
i have a hunger that eats at me;
the eternal hunger to have a body made of moonlight;
constellations as my bones,
planets for eyes,
to be everything
and nothing
all at once.
Tedious routine
Down the clouds I fall,
Up from evil coziness, wish farewell.
Go around, see the liar mirror, I’m a lost caterpillar.
Down, a rest I request as I’m slowly putting my finger into Aurora’s needle.
Up! Come on soldier, where is your spirit?
Go, steps feel enormous heavy, am I an elephant?
Down, to my dad’s car as my head is resisting the heavy atmosphere of early morning.
Up, a cheer my dad convokes, but I’m hiding my heavy bag under my eyes.
Go, class starts, the time seems to be playing with me; it goes fast and then immensely slow.
Down, my body falls, my foot skipped a stair.
Up, some miracle energy, a tasty bread of jam collapses with my tongue.
Go, more of the same, but I count starts trying to survive.
Down as I sit, an enormous space between exit and me.
Up to the ceiling, the time of escaping has come.
Go, the only thing my head thinks about.
Down, back to my dad’s car, as I sing a victory melody.
Up, the smell of home I can taste.
Go, as my steps go further and faster.
Down, back to my so wished coziness.
But tomorrow another battle I will survive.
Journey across the sea
Take me to the other side of the sea,
There where the pain settles along the shore
And the boat bids a goodbye.
There the generous winds come,
Gently takes me to the another world
Of pleasure among plaintives.
There where the exhaustible afternoon fades away
And my weary mind rejuvenates.
Steadily, the haze passed by with notes of chripping birds.
I wake up from the slumber of my own unconscious
Into the world of glow.
There falls every shadow
And I dissolve into the hues of oneness,
Commanding in the glory of God.
For the light I have been longing for so long
Sailed deep within my faith.
There i saw myself lying under her feet,
And she smiled over the sea.
I wasn’t so lonely before
To hold her grace in my empty hands.
It happened for she wanted me.
Yes, Radharani truly filled me!
Ghazal From My Notebook
You, What are you now that I am gone?
What are we now that I am gone?
I have been on my lonesome for the past year and four months.
What has changed since I’ve been gone?
I still think of you, every time I see a pair of Levi’s jeans or think of our old art teacher,
but your face has blurred in my mind since I’ve been gone.
I’ve replaced you
I didn’t want to, but times got hard while you were gone.
How often do you think of me, have you replaced me too
now that I’m gone?
The rose petals
rain and fall on the France…
Colour crimson reds!
When you wake up
you feel to the butterflies
like fluttering.
Leave memories
like several leaves
in the distant fall.
Jesús Rafael Marcano.
Haikus dedicated to the magical lands of France.
Jesús Rafael Marcano Guzmán, (Maturín, Venezuela, 1993)
Founder of Sakura Centro Cultural de Arte y Literatura Japonesa and the Jaykismo Movement. He is a member of the EIDOS International Artistic Movement (headquartered in France) and currently serves as President of the EIDOS International Artistic Movement, Venezuela-Asia chapter.
He stands out for his work as an author of bilingual works in Chinese and Spanish, establishing himself as an important promoter of Sinology and Asian literature in Ibero-America. He has published research on the influence of Chinese religion and philosophy on culture and language for the Association of Chinese Schools in Spain, one of which was translated into French and published in TingaNews Magazine (Burkina Faso, 2026).
He is a contributor to the cultural magazine China Bambú, Dragones y Tinta (Spain, 2025), the portal Japón desde Japón (2025), and a columnist for the Spanish newspaper Siglo XXI. His poetic work abroad includes the publication of haikus in English in the Greek magazine Homo Universalis (2026). In February 2026, the Greek magazine Polis Magazino published a series of his haikus in a bilingual Greek-English edition to commemorate World Greek Language Day, edited by Eva Petropoulou Lianou. This publication consolidates his work as a multilingual author and promoter of poetry and Asian literature in Ibero-America and Europe.
His most notable published works include Hanasaki (2021) and Haikus (2025) under the seal of Editorial Giraluna, among others.
Recognitions and Memberships:
· First place poetry prize at the first “Aventuras de papel” exhibition (Mar del Plata, 2024)
· Prof. Ciro Artemio Constantino Álvarez International Award by the Royal International Academy of Art and Literature (Mexico, 2024).
· Member of the Andrés Eloy Blanco Society of Poets.
· Member of the Latin American Poetry Route (Monagas State).