For the first time,
leading my tiny hand,
The teacher who showed me the world as light.
Grab a pen and paper and draw from today
The future is yours,
You said, teacher
You are calling for goodness,
And driving away evil.
You are shining like the sun,
Starting our path towards goals.
Because of you,
I take a step into life,
With you, poetry leads forward.
I am the victim of that flawless walk,
When I aspired to a teacher like you
Azimova Munisa, 9th grade student of school 20, Bukhara city
1) Everything Gonna Be All Right
(or, Trading Body Blows with
the Ghost of Victor Smith)
The night was thick, black and nasty
and my mattress was a raft drifting down
a mighty Mississippi of memory,
a Viking longboat in which my broken
warrior-poet’s form had been placed
and sent downstream through the silver-grey mists
of eternity and on to the far bright shores of my
forefathers and their fathers before them,
only to be turned away from those fearsome
gates for being insufficiently deceased.
And, lately, it seems like I’ve been waking up
in the middle of varying stages of dream-state
at all my former places of residence, feeling around
the bed for some imaginary former spouse
or significant other, freaking out about
being late to some former place of employment
and whatever it is I’m gonna say (this time?)
to placate whichever former employer.
I can’t help but believe if things continue
at this rate, eventually, I’ll bolt awake thinking
I’m late for my first day of kindergarten (though,
hopefully my mother will also be on hand to say,
It’s OK, little man. It’s only Saturday. Go out and play).
And then there’s that recurring one where,
in what some new age, metaphysical,
guided meditation counselor type might
call a deep subterranean cave of me,
some here-to-fore unknown (or merely suspected)
part of me suddenly cracks and snaps off
like a massive icicle or stalactite, morphing
on its way down into another more fully actualized me,
a new and improved me, you could say,
and hits the ground running like Jesse Owens
at the ’36 Olympics.
And let’s just say, for the sake of the poem
(and your, most likely, all-too-brief relationship with it),
that this new and improved me is actually you
and it’s not a slimy or treacherous cave floor
that your feet have found but a cool, rain-slicked street
late at night in some industrial part of town
you don’t recognize.
And just over there to the right,
maybe fifty, sixty feet away at most,
there’s a freight train blowing out
its big, brassy basso profundo
as it slows down to take the curve
and it’s not even an issue of nerve
or wanting it bad enough ‘cause you know
you can make it this time, man,
and you don’t even have a suitcase
or bag or nothing,
but that shit don’t even matter ‘cause everything’s
gonna be different from here on out if you can
just catch that train, man, everything gonna be just fine
if you can just keep runnin’ and sayin’ it
and sayin’ it and sayin’ it:
everything gonna be alright,
everything gonna be alright,
everything gonna be alright,
everything…
2) Wide, Low and Slow
Broke
down
Massy-
Furgeson,
abandoned and left
for dead somewhere out here near what
must be, more or less, the middle of this over-grown
cornfield, smack-dab on the Kansas / Missouri
border, who knows how many years ago,
upon which the scarecrow of an old cracked plaster
mannequin (with straw cowboy hat
and canvas gloves) is
casually
straddled,
as
if
he
were
kickin’
way back and
rolling: wide, low and
slow, down the boulevard of time,
like he aint got a motherfuckin’ care in the world,
and, with there nothing else to do and no where
else to be, who knows, maybe he doesn’t.
3) Old Man with a Cane
Leaning on a Mailbox, by
the Side of the Road
There’s an old man with
a cane, leaning on a mail-
box full of bullet
holes, by the side of
a two-lane highway, and an
18-wheeler is
rounding the curve, just
about a quarter-mile down
the road (coming to
us from Cooper Hill,
Mt. Sterling, Rosebud and parts
unknown (and beyond):
a yellow butter-
fly caught in its grill, a red
balloon tied to the
passenger-side rear-
view mirror, a hawk hanging
on the bright blue wind.
4) 50% off
It was a store that
specialized in used past lives
and even had a
discount bin near the counter
where you could get as much as
50% off somedays.
5) Strange Bright Birds
I
think
about
those women,
sometimes, who fluttered
in and out of my life, every
now and then, like strange, bright birds with the power to stop
my heart, my breathing, my ability to speak
or think, even, the spinning of the
earth, hell, time itself, and I wonder where some of them
are these days, all these years later,
where their lives lead them,
and did some-
one, for
some
of
them
at
least, turn
out to be
the “one” about which
so many movies and novels and
songs are cranked out every year, but what
I guess I mostly think about are all the things
I could have done differently.
Jason Ryberg is the author of twenty-two books of
poetry, six screenplays, a few short stories, a box full
of folders, notebooks and scraps of paper that could
one day be (loosely) construed as a novel, and countless
love letters (never sent). He is currently an artist-in-
residence at both The Prospero Institute of Disquieted
P/o/e/t/i/c/s and the Osage Arts Community, and is an
editor and designer at Spartan Books. His work has
appeared in As it Ought to Be, Up the Staircase Quarterly,
Thimble Literary Magazine, I-70 Review, Main Street Rag,
The Arkansas Review and various other journals and
anthologies. His latest collection of poems is “Bullet Holes
in the Mailbox (Cigarette Burns in the Sheets) Back of the
Class Press, 2024)).” He lives part-time in Kansas City, MO
with a rooster named Little Red and a Billy-goat named
Giuseppe, and part-time somewhere in the Ozarks,
near the Gasconade River, where there are also many
strange and wonderful woodland critters.
Love
I need you, love
I need you, love,
to show me the darkness
of your depth.
The abyss of spirit captivates me…
I need you to call the rains
from my darkest skies;
I will face seizure from the night.
I have waited for your exiled embrace
since the morning winds.
Now, the silence of the moony season
frowns darkly and I am still alone.
Dustin Pickering
USA
In a world where digital skills determine future success, access to quality education is not a luxury—it’s a necessity. My name is Muslima Olimova, a young changemaker from Uzbekistan, and I founded Muslima Academy to create a bridge between global knowledge and ambitious youth, especially girls from Central Asia.
Born and raised in Andijan, I grew up seeing many talented youth who lacked access to resources, mentors, and international opportunities. Despite living in a digital era, many were unaware of online courses, scholarships, or even how to build a strong CV. That’s when I realized that change had to start somewhere—and I chose to be that start.
Muslima Academy is a youth-led educational platform where we offer online courses, career guidance, international certificate programs, and practical tasks that help students build their portfolios. Our mission is clear: empower 10,000+ youth by 2026 with the tools, skills, and global mindset needed for the 21st century.
We offer affordable access to:
Weekly live masterclasses
Scholarship application coaching
CV and motivation letter writing
Public speaking and personal branding
Mentorship and internship opportunities
What makes us unique is our commitment to inclusivity and real-world impact. In just one year, our students have been accepted into global summits, won international competitions, and even launched their own startups.
As a founder, I also work as a community ambassador for Wakelet in Uzbekistan and collaborate with international organizations to bring global education home. The story of Muslima Academy is not just mine—it belongs to every student who dares to dream big.
My dream? That one day, no youth from our region feels left behind in the digital revolution. Muslima Academy is more than an initiative. It’s a movement. And we’re just getting started.
Muslima Olimova is a 17-year-old student of Information Systems and Technologies at Andijan State Technical Institute in Uzbekistan. She is the founder of Muslima Academy, a youth-led initiative that empowers young people — especially girls — through education, digital skills, and access to global opportunities. Muslima is also the Uzbekistan Ambassador for Wakelet, a global educational platform, and her academic and creative work has been published in more than 26 countries. She is passionate about using technology, education, and innovation to uplift communities and inspire the next generation of changemakers.
In a world where women are increasingly stepping into leadership roles and shaping the future, stories like that of Muslima Olimova stand out as powerful examples of courage, vision, and impact. At just 17, Muslima is not only a student of Information Systems and Technologies at Andijan State Technical Institute in Uzbekistan but also the founder of Muslima Academy — an initiative aimed at empowering youth, especially girls, through education, digital skills, and global opportunities.
Muslima Academy was born out of a simple yet powerful belief: access to knowledge and global exposure can change lives. What started as a small educational initiative has now become a dynamic platform for students, freelancers, and aspiring leaders across Uzbekistan and beyond. Through online courses, international certificate programs, grant writing workshops, and mentorship, the Academy has touched the lives of hundreds of young people.
Starting a project as a young girl in Central Asia comes with its share of barriers — from societal expectations to limited resources. Muslima faced skepticism, financial difficulties, and the challenge of balancing her academic life with her entrepreneurial dream. Yet, with resilience and a clear purpose, she turned these challenges into motivation. “I wanted to show that age and gender do not limit what we can achieve,” she says.
Muslima’s efforts didn’t go unnoticed. She became the Uzbekistan Ambassador of Wakelet, a UK-based global education platform. Her scientific articles, books, and essays are now published in over 26 countries. She’s also a winner of multiple science Olympiads and startup competitions, proving that young women can lead innovation just as boldly as anyone.
Muslima is currently working on expanding Muslima Academy and launching new projects like EduMingle — a platform that connects youth with real-world tasks, mentors, and portfolio-building opportunities. Her startup ideas combine AI, blockchain, and education to create sustainable solutions for freelance workers and learners.
Through her work, she is building more than platforms — she is building confidence in girls who doubt themselves, opportunity for youth who feel left behind, and hope for communities ready to rise.
Muslima’s journey is not just about personal success. It’s a call to action — to invest in girls, trust their ideas, and create ecosystems where young people can lead change. As she says, “You don’t need to wait to be older, richer, or more experienced to make an impact. You can start now — with a purpose, a laptop, and a dream.”
Et je ne souffre qu’au seuil de l’abandon.
Les douleurs m’apparaissent en patience,
Mais je ne m’appuie pas sur ma plaie pour tes baisers.
Je suis l’ascète façonné loin de ton jeûne.
Tu mérites les carillons de tes cloches.
Ensemble, nous nous élevions par les lettres,
Nous éloignant du vertige des miroirs
Vers les hymnes des cercles bohèmes.
Rabbin, je suis, dans la synagogue de tes éclats,
Prêchant parfois, priant ton Talmud.
Je me perds dans tes péchés comme un navire
Englouti par les soupirs de tes prières.
Nulle place pour l’existence pourpre
Dans les replis charbonnés de tes paupières.
Les fautes des odes me portent, îlot après îlot,
Sur les croix tracées par tes mystères.
Tu fus pour moi une voix,
Épanouie en chorales de tes symphobies..
Alors, ravive en moi une flamme et laisse-moi
Compter sept chiffres
Qui me portent en désir,
Pour les rendre ensuite
Morts ou renaissants dans tes écrits.
And I only suffer on the threshold of abandonment.
Pains appear to me patiently,
But I do not lean on my wound for your kisses.
I am the ascetic fashioned far from your fasting.
You deserve the chimes of your bells.
Together, we rose through letters,
Faring from the vertigo of mirrors
Toward the hymns of bohemian circles.
Rabbi, I am, in the synagogue of your splendor,
Preaching sometimes, praying your Talmud.
I lose myself in your sins like a ship
Swallowed by the sighs of your prayers.
No place for purple existence
In the charred folds of your eyelids.
The faults of the odes carry me, island after island,
To the crosses traced by your mysteries.
You were a voice for me,
Blossoming in the chorus of your symphobias.
So, rekindle a flame in me and let me
Count seven numbers
That carry me with desire,
To then make them
Dead or reborn in your writings.
Bibliographie
Hassane Ajbouh is a Moroccan writer, critic, and creative writer from Safrou, currently residing in Ibn Ahmed. He holds a degree in Arabic Literature, specializing in Philosophy, and is a educational administrator and high school principal in the Casablanca-Settat region.
His published works include:
– A joint poetry collection “Shado in Love and Life” published by the University of Moroccan Creators.
– A joint short story collection “Marafie” published by the Iraqi magazine Basriatha.
– A joint book “Stories Crossing Continents” published by Dar Scribayb in 2023.
He has also published critical studies on novels and short stories in local and Arab newspapers.
Ajbouh is currently working on several projects, including a poetry collection and a short story collection.
He holds several positions, including:
– Cultural Advisor to the World Organization for Creativity for Peace (London – Morocco branch)
– Editor-in-Chief of Sefrou Cultural Magazine
– Editor-in-Chief of Iqaa’ Al-Adab magazine
– Member of the Board of Directors of several groups, forums, and magazines
– Designer and judge for various literary competitions
His works have been published in numerous national, Arab, and international newspapers and magazines.
Ahmed Miqdad
Palestinian poet
Activist
Awarded the Naji Namaan Literary Award for 2025.
Contact: ahmedmiqdadd@gmail.com
1. Please share your thoughts about the future of literature..
When did you start writing?
Actually, I’ve been writing since 2014 during the Israeli aggression on Gaza City. What inspired me to write poetry is the necessity to raise awareness about the Palestinian cause and convey a message to the Western world that Palestinians have been suffering since 1948 and we are looking for justice and peace.
2 .The Good and the Bad.
Which is winning nowadays?
I do believe that those who seek love and peace will win in this life because those who seek war will destroy themselves. Peace will make the world a beautiful place full of light and mercy whereas war will make it a horrible and dark place none can endure to live. Throughout my literary journey I’ve passed many good things and people who’ve made me feel like I’m not alone in this world by showing their sympathy and support. I’m a poet, I write poetry about how war affects us as humans and destroys anything beautiful. I write about the suffering of my people for years and how my people starve severely. I wish I could write about the beauty of my country Palestine and share poems of love and peace.
3. How many books have you written
And where can we find your books
I’ve self-published four books, three are poetry books and the fourth is a short novel. The first book I published was ” Gaza Narrates Poetry”, the second ” When Hope Isn’t Enough” , the third ” Stilen Lives” and the last was “Falastin”. I’ve recently published a poetry book with the great poet John P. Portelli called ” The Shadow”.
Most of my books are available on Amazon.
4. The book. E book or Hardcover book
What will be the future?
I’m looking forward to publishing a new book and the title will be ” The Genocide” . It will contain more than 40 poems which I wrote during the ongoing genocide on Gaza city and the horrible experiences I witnessed .
5. A wish for 2025
I wish and only wish Palestinians who have been suffering for ages can restore our legal and humane rights and that peace prevails in this world.
A phrase from your book
” My loyal Cactus, Your thorns are more delicate than the hypocrisy of Humanity”.
” I’m still alive but nothing has remained”
EVA Petropoulou Lianou
Author
Poet
Greece
My mind is running towards the village.
My mind is running towards the village
I will see the green village,
I will see the rivers in rows
Take all the sailboats.
I will see the green mountains and the fountains
Laughing with laughter,
The children of the clouds across the sky
Float to the rhythm of the waves.
In the wild flowers in the grass
With the captivating smell,
The bees will fly to eat honey
In rhythm
The morning breeze will touch
the soul will wake up,
I will listen to the song of the birds with my ears