Poetry from Maja Milojkovic

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

IN THE MIRROR

In the mirror, through your own eyes,

you watch me.

You call to me.

You hide me.

You love me.

You close your eyes — to forget,

to stop everything.

But like water at the mill — it does not stop.

A wheel of liquid drops keeps turning,

life flows like a river.

I am born again in your eyes,

beneath your eyelids,

a love with which you cover

another love.

Forgetfulness comes when the mirror breaks.

But ours…

Ours is reborn each time —

when you look at yourself

and in your reflection recognize my eyes.

That is us:

connected by thoughts,

without meeting,

without touch,

without anything —

yet with everything,

in the fullness of feeling

that transcends words.

Maja Milojković was born in Zaječar and divides her life between Serbia and Denmark. In Serbia, she serves as the deputy editor-in-chief at the publishing house Sfairos in Belgrade. She is also the founder and vice president of the Rtanj and Mesečev Poets’ Circle, which counts 800 members, and the editor-in-chief of the international e-magazine Area Felix, a bilingual Serbian-English publication. She writes literary reviews, and as a poet, she is represented in numerous domestic and international literary magazines, anthologies, and electronic media. Some of her poems are also available on the YouTube platform. Maja Milojković has won many international awards. She is an active member of various associations and organizations advocating for peace in the world, animal protection, and the fight against racism. She is the author of two books: Mesečev krug (Moon Circle) and Drveće Želje (Trees of Desire). She is one of the founders of the first mixed-gender club Area Felix from Zaječar, Serbia, and is currently a member of the same club. She is a member of the literary club Zlatno Pero from Knjaževac, and the association of writers and artists Gorski Vidici from Podgorica, Montenegro.

Poetry from Graciela Noemi Villaverde

Light skinned Latina woman with dark blonde hair, brown eyes, a black top and small silver necklace.
Graciela Noemi Villaverde

The Footprints of Borges

In labyrinths of ink and knowledge,

a blind guide, illuminating being.

With words, he wove parallel worlds,

mirrors where we see our longings.

In every library, a universe,

on every page, a perverse dream.

Time is an eternally branching river,

and destiny, a garden without winter.

His footprints, shadows in the Aleph,

an echo in the garden of intersecting paths.

In every verse, an echo of his faith,

Borges lives, where reality blurs.

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.

Poetry from Mirta Liliana Ramírez

Older middle aged Latina woman with short reddish brown hair, light brown eyes, and a grey blouse.
Mirta Liliana Ramirez

The Dancer of Life

The dancer

Concentrates

and begins to practice

movements with rehearsals

successes and errors…

She dances in life

Not to live

But as her breath of life

It’s her choice

It’s her way of expressing

love for herself and

for others…

Dancing changes her energy

And spreads it to others

To change their day…

Mirta Liliana Ramírez has been a poet and writer since she was 12 years old. She has been a Cultural Manager for more than 35 years. Creator and Director of the Groups of Writers and Artists: Together for the Letters, Artescritores, MultiArt, JPL world youth, Together for the letters Uzbekistan 1 and 2. She firmly defends that culture is the key to unite all the countries of the world. She works only with his own, free and integrating projects at a world cultural level. She has created the Cultural Movement with Rastrillaje Cultural and Forming the New Cultural Belts at the local level and also from Argentina to the world.

Poetry from Don Bormon

South Asian teen boy with short black hair, brown eyes, and a white collared school uniform with a decal.

The Cloudy Sky

Beneath the veil of shifting silver haze,

The sun retreats, its fire dimmed to gray.

Soft winds unravel in a muted phrase,

And shadows wander where the clouds now play.

A choir of vapors gathers, slow and wide,

Their restless forms like ships upon the sea.

They drift and merge, then scatter, then collide,

A canvas brushed with storms yet meant to be.

No star can pierce this shroud of wandering mist,

Nor moonlight carve a path through heaven’s veil.

Yet in the hush, a secret peace exists,

A promise whispered where the tempests sail.

Don Bormon is a student of grade ten in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.

Poetry from Wazed Abdullah

Young South Asian boy with short black hair and a light blue collared shirt.
Wazed Abdullah

A Dark Glaring Night

A dark night whispers softly and deep,

The moon keeps watching while others sleep.

Stars likes sparking in heaven’s dome,

Guiding my thoughts though I’m alone.

The drifting clouds sail slow and near,

Their shadows fall, yet all is clear.

Beside the crystal lake I sit and see,

The sky pour all its elegances on me.

Wazed Abdullah is a student of grade ten in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.

Poetry from Mahbub Alam

Middle aged South Asian man with reading glasses, short dark hair, and an orange and green and white collared shirt. He's standing in front of a lake with bushes and grass in the background.
Mahbub Alam

Forgetfulness

I look all around

Find out the past

In the land, on the waters

Press on the gear to speed up

As the birds fly towards the sky

Leaving everything loving back

I fly to thee

O my forgetfulness

Just like the flowery garden

Over there in the darkness

The stars always blink

The light we enjoy at night

Swimming all the way

I find myself on the bank

Keeping your hand on my back

Here flows the waves of the green crops

We always play at our own skills and charms

Forgetfulness twinkles over here, there

Making a way to the glory of endless delight.

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.

Essay from Jernail S. Anand

Older South Asian man with a beard, a deep burgundy turban, coat and suit and reading glasses and red bowtie seated in a chair.
Dr. Jernail S. Anand

LITERATURE AS  A LIABILITY

Dr. Jernail S. Anand

We don’t want light. We want darkness, in which we could pursue our dark passions.

If we look at the focus of studies in modern times, scales have shifted away from the study of literature and greater emphasis is being placed on the study of subjects which are directly in demand for the purpose of jobs. Only those things are studied in schools and colleges which make students sharp of understanding, quick at decision making, and fast at the art of problem solving. The focus of studies, and the prized positions for which the cream of the students aspire and work assiduously, are top IT jobs with millions in packages, or positions of power and wealth in civil services.

In a scenario, where people are bewitched by the political and bureaucratic power, and wealth, it is but natural that students tilt towards subjects which deliver them into plum positions of society. Now, look at literature, a field which has been sent to margins, and now being obliterated altogether, being replaced by language studies, and teaching of letter writing and draft making. No one can contest if, as we go along, we improve our teaching techniques, and introduce new subjects. But, if we just reduce to nothingness subjects which have always remained the grandeur of universities, it is a serious setback to the idea of education at a whole.

In a society which is being controlled by power lobbies, and machines, and where tastes are being dictated, and human nature is under close scrutiny of AI and other appliances, everything can be digitalized and documented except human mind, his imagination, his feelings, and how a man reacts differently at different occasions to the same stimuli. Psychology is a science, but not an exact science, because human mind cannot be fully brought on the laptop screen. Tentative decisions are made with results which too are approximate. Literature which studies human mind, his psychology, his passions, his joy, and his pain, has revolted against regimentation and digitalization, and herein lies the danger of revolt to an organized society which believes in power and control.

Look at the plight of teachers in schools and colleges. They are booked and copy-booked the whole day, without a moment for themselves, when they can breathe free. Same is the condition of students. No time to look away from the syllabus books. The Principals are happy, now they have made every one busy, and there is no nonsense like students indulging in lofty thoughts, studying great men, and learning arts which relate to higher learning. From books to more books, this is our studies nowadays. From marks to more marks is their trek. And if they top the lists,  newspapers capture headlines. And there the game ends.

Literature and Free Thought

Literature is on the losing end, and it is being eliminated, for the reason that it believes in free thought. It believes in the life of the mind. It believes in ethics, beauty, art – things which do not go well with the matter-of-fact practitioners of pratical sense. If we look back, challenge to the political power always came from educational institutions. Because universities were the places where people could study great masters, had time to discuss and debate. Now, also, debates are held, but they do not relate to philosophy. They relate to Shark Tank.

Moreover, the world has learnt the art of turning literature into a commodity, as it has done with religion. A noble activity, which is meant to refine human sensibility, can lose its own sensitivity if it is reduced to an economic activity, a passion for success and awards. The genuine man of literature has been pushed out of the margins, while those who can fight it out, pay it out, buy it out, stay in the field, with laurels. If literature does not subdue, rather gives rise to the running sensations of success and wealth formation, best sellers and copies sold, I wonder it can do the job it is basically expected to do.

Literature has become a liability for the society as a whole, when it resists the attempts to commercialise it and  it fails to yield returns in terms of money and power. It is a light which shows us the path.  Herein lies the problem. We don’t want light. We want darkness, in which we could pursue our dark passions.

Another major reason why literature has become a defunct field of study, relates to how the leaders of the world behave. Politics and real life is a field of a cutting-edge  race of macabre lies. Literature does not fit into a world which has no stake in truth, goodness, honesty, integrity and values like ethics.

If we want a better world, we shall have to revive literature and bring mankind back from the brink of unrealistic dreams of high life based on power and wealth. Else, the drift into the morass of a world of flimsiness, artificiality, shallowness and duplicity is inevitable, and irresistible.

Dr. Jernail Singh Anand, with an opus of 180 plus books, is Laureate of the Seneca, Charter of Morava, Franz Kafka and Maxim Gorky awards.  His name adorns the Poets’ Rock in Serbia. Anand is a towering literary figure whose work embodies a rare fusion of creativity, intellect, and moral vision. He’s not just an Indian author but a global voice, challenging readers to confront the complexities of existence while offering hope through art and ethics.   If Tagore is the serene sage of a colonial past, Anand is the fiery prophet of a chaotic present. Recently he dedicated hos collection of 12 epics Epicacia Vol 1 and Vol 2 to Serbia and Dr Maja Herman Sekulic.