I'm leaving...

I'm leaving...
The end of my path is not in sight
A beautiful end of life.
Cheats discover lies
Let there be evil in the heart.

I'm leaving...
It's supposed to be in the grand corridor 
They put a shoe on my leg.
When I look back, my past
Sins will remain.

I'm leaving...
Stopping is a stranger to me,
And or no one is a friend.
Pains, sufferings please,
Leave it alone, leave it alone, that's it.

I'm leaving...
It's like in a grand corridor...


Anvarova Nilufar, a student of the 7th grade of the creative school named after Erkin Vahidov, Margilan city.

WE EXIST IN LIFE

Let the blood in our bodies be green,

Let this space turn green.

If I merge into the roots,

No bird can be without a place.

If I become the eyes of the springs,

I would flow clear and healing.

I would take the pain of the sick,

I would bring joy to the heart.

Then I would grow as a plant,

Evil would not spill ink.

Good feelings would surround the world,

Knowing, it would not sin.

If I become the most precious ore,

I would pour out for them to pick up.

The one who eliminates the feeling of hunger,

I would awaken the feeling of gratitude by melting.

If I fly like a bird with wings,

I would lead towards dreams.

Striving is the foundation of faith,

I would throw away sorrow in my flight.

The sea would be full of waves,

If I become a snowy mountain.

I would roll all the noises,

If I become a river in the streams.

If I become a word, I would ring,

The song of peace, every breath.

The world would be wide without wars,

The desire born to want happiness.

Everyone has feelings, embodied,

We exist in the name of human.

If everyone follows goodness,

We are pure beings like springs.

Let the blood in our bodies be green,

Let this space turn green.

O’tkir Mulikboyev is a teacher at School No. 75, Qoshrabot District, Samarkand Region, Uzbekistan.

A plea

Beloved like my mother
God gave you to me
I live as your child
I give my life to you, my country.

Let me lean on you, my wing
I will say it will not pass
I am sorry for the ingratitude
I give my life to you, my country

Don't be offended by me
If you are sad, I will be the one
Do not be humiliated in the hands of Yav
My life is devoted to you, my country

My sister, brother, don't shed tears
I will never leave you
May the sun not leave your head
My life is devoted to you, my country.


Running to your service
Be the only one for you
Pulling out my heart
Homeland, I give my life to you.

I will finish it before I die
Yozai senchun epic cry
My eyes are a charm for you
My life is devoted to you, my country.

The throne of other countries is not needed
It's okay if I'm in your arms
A heart that does not love you is heartless
My life is devoted to you, my country.



Member of the "Yosh kalamkashlar" club of the Barkamol Avlod children's school, Kogon district, Bukhara region, 9th grade student of the 17th school in the district, "I bow to those who know you", regional stage 1_place winner.

Andrea Ceccomori, the flutist who is conquering the world

Andrea Ceccomori, flutist and founder of Assisi Suono Sacro, is now the most acclaimed flutist in the world, an eclectic artist with an always generous invention. Assisi, where Saint Francis was born, is twinned with San Francisco, founded by the Franciscan missions. This Franciscan imprint of SF is expressed through cultural and religious dialogue and in care for animals and nature. An aspect of Saint Francis that should be remembered is that he was the first to create a religious bridge between Christians and Muslims through the king of Egypt Kamel. Ceccomori, who has concerts scheduled also in Egypt, has just had two recent successes: one at the beginning of October in SF on the occasion of the celebration of the St. Francis feast day at the SF Shrine church and Porziuncola Nuova and the other in China, where Ceccomori is popular. Ceccomori’s tour with pianist Sebastiano Brusco ended on November 2nd at the Art Oriental Theatre in Shanghai.

Ceccomori played a program of classical pieces such as Bach, Donizetti, Franck, Briccialdi, Rossini, Massenet, and Debussy, along with pieces composed by him including his hymn to peace and other Chinese pieces very popular in China such as Butterfly Lovers and My Motherland.

In the first part of the tour also participated the soprano Chiara Giudice who sang pieces by Puccini and Verdi. Shanghai Media Group curated the events and “Guiyahui” by Emma Wang Qin promoted the mega tour with concerts at the UCAS University in Beijing, the most important university in China and at the University of Hangzhou and at the International Festival Encuentros Art in Uangshang, with lectures by Ceccomori in a climate of exchanges with Chinese artists who often travel to SF where 35% of the city’s population is Chinese. Ceccomori is very attached to poetry and especially to that of Saint Francis. The flutist wrote the music for the famous “Canticle of the Creatures” by Saint Francis with a concert in Rome in 2022 and in Vienna in 2023 and has a project where the recitation of the “Canticle” of Saint Francis in the original language and in English will be part of his homonymous concert. 

From the Louvre in Paris to the Lincoln Center in NYC, Ceccomori, also artistic director of the Assisi Suono Sacro festival, is intensifying his relations with the city of SF to consolidate splendid artistic and cultural bridges.

Christina Chin / Kimberly Olmtak 

a graceful hand

whips the tea

I sip the aroma

the pulled heart on 

matcha latte

spring garden

my small balcony

adorned with sweet alyssum

an enchantress bouquet

bees and butterflies 

sweet pea

a sunseeker

climbs up the trellis

sea breeze and coffee

on the patio

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.

Scribbles

[Written at a Boston-based writing group and included in Fleury’s book You Are Enough: The Journey to Accepting Your Authentic Self]

La vie

Ah, la douleur de la vie;
So sorrowful this life can be,
We live in a constant that is uncertainty,
Waiting to awaken each morning can be tiresome,
Waking from a nightmare can be winsome,
‘Til we see the dreadful daylight of reality!
Yearning to sleep;
Daring to wake;
What comes next?
Life is but a haste!

Bird Bath

The mockingbird emerged from its bath,
Singing while in sat on a raft,
Looking into the distant path,
And poised with some sass,
Swiftly flew off in a fit of wrath!

Insomnia

I dreamed I had insomnia
And birds of prey roamed
‘Round my sphere
My heart rhythm’s tachycardia
Abided in a bed of fear…
I dreamt I slept with insomnia
echoes of children
Resounded like nostalgia
My senses somewhat forlorn
Yearning for the years bygone
Wishing to wish away my melancholia
I dream of sleep
Awake I weep
I dreamt i prayed
My soul to keep
I fell asleep
Or so it seems
Wishing to weep
For my esteem
Alas to sleep
Perchance to dream…

What Place is This?

Surrounded by a shadowy grey environ,
Sitting cross legged on some ground,
Looking up in a circular motion,
I wondered why there was no one else around…
Yearning to hear a sound;
Something has blurred my vision,
Suddenly I hear a pound,
Could thunder be a thing I found?!
Alas…The dawning of my wakening,
I am living in a cloud!!!

Jacques Stanley Fleury is a Haitian-American Poet, Author and Educator. He holds an undergraduate degree in Liberal Arts and is currently pursuing graduate studies in the literary arts at Harvard University online. Once on the editing staff of The Watermark, a literary magazine at the University of Massachusetts, his first book Sparks in the Dark: A Lighter Shade of Blue, A Poetic Memoir was featured in and endorsed by the Boston Globe. His second book: It’s Always Sunrise Somewhere and Other Stories is a collection of short fictional stories dealing with the human condition as the characters navigate life’s foibles and was featured on Good Reads. His current book and hitherto magnum opus Chain Letter to America: The One Thing You Can Do to End Racism, A Collection of Essays, Fiction and Poetry Celebrating Multiculturalism explores social justice in America and his latest book, “You Are Enough: The Journey to Accepting Your Authentic Self”  along with all other previously mentioned titles are available at public libraries, The Harvard Book Store, Porter Square Books, The Grolier Bookshop, Goodreads, bookshop, Amazon etc…  His CD A Lighter Shade of Blue as a lyrics writer in collaboration with the neo-folk musical group Sweet Wednesday is available on Amazon, iTunes & Spotify to benefit Haitian charity St. Boniface.