Freedom’s Embrace

In the quiet dawn, where dreams reside,

Freedom dances on the wings of the tide.

Her touch is light, yet strong and true,

A gift for all, for me, for you.

She whispers peace in every land,

Binding nations hand in hand.

No chains to break, no walls to build,

With love and hope, the heart is filled.

Respect blooms in Freedom’s light,

Uniting souls, both day and night.

In every word, in every choice,

She lifts the world, gives all a voice.

For Freedom thrives where love is found,

Where hearts are free, unbound, unbound.

In unity, the world can see,

That peace and love are truly free.

So let us cherish, let us guard,

This gift so precious, yet so hard.

For in her arms, the world will find,

A future bright, for all mankind.

Maja Milojković was born in 1975 in Zaječar, Serbia. She is a person to whom from an early age, Leonardo da Vinci’s statement “Painting is poetry that can be seen, and poetry is painting that can be heard” is circulating through the blood. That’s why she started to use feathers and a brush and began to reveal the world and herself to them. As a poet, she is represented in numerous domestic and foreign literary newspapers, anthologies and electronic media, and some of her poems can be found on YouTube. Many of her poems have been translated into English, Hungarian, Bengali and Bulgarian due to the need of foreign readers. She is the recipient of many international awards. “Trees of Desire” is her second collection of poems in preparation, which is preceded by the book of poems “Moon Circle”. She is a member of the International Society of Writers and Artists “Mountain Views” in Montenegro, and she also is a member of the Poetry club “Area Felix” in Serbia.

Rubina Anis is the Headteacher of Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh. She has obtained her honors and Master’s degree from the Department of Arts and Crafts, Rajshahi University.

Demeaning the Dramaturg

We will have to wait

for the second act be-

fore anything of import

happens. The open-

ing is purely scene-

setting, inserting a

whiff of color to whet

the tongue, a round of

self-aggrandizement

to pleasure the author.

Under armored

Born

without a

larynx she

could not

call out

to say

she was

drowning

so signed

frantically &

invented

swimming.

Word marinade

He took the word

& left it overnight

in a marinade. Soy,

grated ginger, a

thin-sliced bird’s-eye

chili that he’d picked

from the garden just

that morning. Made

no difference to the

meaning, to the re-

sonations; but, oh

boy, did the kitchen

stink & produce a

steady flow of words.

The / I Ching / in the Fall

There is a

continuity

in the

natural

order. First

the leaves

fall & then

the stems

that they

were form-

erly part of.

Some temp-

oral over-

lapping. The

stems lie

in the pool,

on the path.

Yarrow stalks.

Cast &

counted. Con-

fusing hex-

agrams. Too

many answers.

Too few

questions.

You / could have / knocked me down

The ridge of up-

right hair made things

easy for. Distinctive or

prominent, given to

a number of

guests & held

in a public

manner. Gorilla war-

fear. Gratifying. But

only to those who were

affected by some terminal

payment. The remainder

reluctantly signed

their names to a petition.

Turkoglu

The smell of victory comes from the footsteps of the Turk

Listen, talent grows from every word of the Turk

One nation, two states are crying out with your breath,

Burn and destroy those who fought against your homeland,

Türkoğlu! For thirty years, Karabakh has been groaning underfoot,

Our heart is in ruins, our land is in ruins, it cries for help,

Lands full of martyr blood look shorter than you,

Ildirim, go to your troubles,

Turkoglu! Say thank you to the land and give your blood to the land

He who puts on his homeland’s clothes and gives his life to his homeland, Rising willingly to the summit of martyrdom,

Get into the enemy’s chest, indelible mountain,

Türkoğlu! God shared his unshakable power,

You declared your bravery and courage to the world,

Fight for summer history with your blood

Tax the flag to the victory summit,

Türkoğlu! He stands straight like a lion, a Turk’s head does not bend.

It fights to destroy its oil, it knows no fear,

Know that the country is indivisible, know that martyrs do not die

Feel sorry for the court of justice, Türkoğlu!

Poet-publisher, author of five books. AYB and AJB, Iraq Turkmen Writers Union, Central Asia, Yeni Avaz, Historians and Writers Member of the union, from 2018 to 2022, editor of the “Azad qələm” newspaper, from 2023 to 2023 “Literary pearls” journal from the province installer and chief editor. 2020-ci year KĪVIHÍ’s Rəyasət Committee “Poet of the Year” media award by decision, In the 2021 year, Central Asia, Yeni Avaz, Writers and Historians Union’s Əmir-Teymur fund The “Turan Unity” medal he established, In the year 2023, she was awarded the “Heydar Summit” honorary diploma and many other honorary diplomas.

I WANT TO BE MY LADY

I want to be my grandmother’s wife.

Let me dream with you, let me talk with silk wires.

Your thread is thin from my wire,

If you never fall from my tongue.

I can’t give you away from my hand,

Let me be your silk-wired voice.

If you are good, by all means, difficult things will be resolved quickly.

I come from Shirvan, from Shaki, I am silk wired.

Everyone who is a stranger to our history does not know their worth.

If you don’t want a memory, let me speak with silk wires.

Come, I will cover you with my head,

Give your secret to your confidant.

I’m looking forward to being a hundred years old,

I’m going to have silky hair.

In 1962, she was born from the Sadanağac-Guney family of the Basarkeçer district of the Goycha district of Azerbaijan. Five books of the poetess have come to light so far. Over time, she worked as a branch manager in several newspapers and journals in the press. Its operation continues today. At the same time, her poems have been translated into many languages ​​and appeared in Almanaxes, which is a member of the Azerbaijan Journalists Union and operates specially in the field of Medicine. She is the co-vice president of the Women’s Council of the Social Union “The Development of Relationships among Turkish Women”. She is the owner of many awards for her activities.

Epitaph on my grave

Here lies a heart, which loved with the intensity

of an erupting volcano,

and went out like an ember in the fireplace,

leaving a deep silence.

A restless soul, which sought the truth

in the labyrinth of existence,

and found silence, in the immensity

of a forest without birds.

An unread book, with pages

yellowed like autumn leaves,

a faded canvas,

where memory dissolves

like smoke in the air.

A river of tears,

which flow silently and deeply

like the bed of an underground river,

a bird without wings,

which clings to the hope of an impossible flight,

like a butterfly trapped in a crystal.

An echo in the silence, a whisper of wind that whispers secrets like a lament in the night, a shadow that fades,

a scent of wet earth and broken dreams,

like a bouquet of withered flowers.

A soul in the shadows,

a spirit without flight,

like a candle that goes out in the storm,

a heart in ruins, waiting for oblivion,

waiting for the end,

like a rose petal that falls to the ground.

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.

Chasing

I took you to the flower garden loving from the core of my heart

You passed away in the palm of water

You received death by your own hand

I became the witness of your love forever and ever

Days pass away, your absence chases me too much

Like a tiger behind a deer

Sometimes it seems that

Tiger reflects so sweet.

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.