Ah, Death

Once, Death was a fearful word
Cutting life with unrelenting sword
Cold and stiff, underground to hoard 
Some naked, more in varnished board
All that's living, Death eventually lord
No one can choose on own accord 
The time to willingly cut the cord
But then, is Death really just an end?
The goal straight, no one can bend? 
How can broken hearts be mend? 
Where to, grieving prayers can send?
Gathering that one must attend
Careful that words will not offend
Comfort and strength to lend. 
Death is not the end, but a beginning 
From cold winter, comes the spring
New trails for green meadows bring
Knot or unknot the old with new string
Death, must the living yearn or fear?
Emotions and ambitions to stir
The future, sure yet vaguely unclear.


Nah, nah, nah. 

Everyone needs someone to love, 
Everyone needs someone who'll love. 
Coz we're human needing humans
That ain't wrong nor weird
We're not crazy, we're not weirdos 
We're social creatures not bimbos
That ain't wrong, so it goes
A Lone Wolf searching for a pack
Home waiting for my coming back
That ain't wrong to lack
Wanting wings for my head to tuck
Family feathers not wanting to pluck
That ain't wrong to wish luck
Nah nah nah
That ain't wrong nor weird
That ain't wrong, so it goes
That ain't wrong to lack
That ain't wrong to wish luck
Everyone needs someone to love, 
Everyone needs someone who'll love.
Searching, wishing for one true love.
Nah, nah, nah, normal ones

Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa was born January 14, 1965, in Manila Philippines. She has worked as a retired Language Instructor, interpreter, caregiver, secretary, product promotion employee, and private therapeutic masseur. Her works have been published as poems and short story anthologies in several language translations for e-magazines, monthly magazines, and books; poems for cause anthologies in a Zimbabwean newspaper; a feature article in a Philippine newspaper; and had her works posted on different poetry web and blog sites. She has been writing poems since childhood but started on Facebook only in 2014. For her, Poetry is life and life is poetry. 

Lilian Kunimasa considers herself a student/teacher with the duty to learn, inspire, guide, and motivate others to contribute to changing what is seen as normal into a better world than when she steps into it. She has always considered life as an endless journey, searching for new goals, and challenges and how she can in small ways make a difference in every path she takes. She sees humanity as one family where each one must support the other and considers poets as a voice for truth in pursuit of equality and proper stewardship of nature despite the hindrances of distorted information and traditions.

	
DEEP IN THE HEART… 

Deep in heart there’s echoing burning voice, 
Do not hide it, just open it and rejoice. 
God almighty understand us where you zoom, 
Anyways, you will face it what fetches doom. 
Let that dull stars gossip you let them backbite, 
They are only ugly teeth of giggling night. 
Oh, my dear, face to the God at any rate, 
Because he’s the owner of the workshop of fate.

Shamsiya Khudoynazarova Turumovna (February 15, 1973) was born in Uzbekistan. Studied at the Faculty of Journalism of Tashkent State University (1992-1998). She took first place in the competition of young republican poets (1999). Four collections of poems have been published in Uzbekistan: “Leaf of the Heart” (1998), “Roads to You” (1998), “The Sky in My Chest” (2007), “Lovely Melodies” (2013). She wrote poetry in more than ten genres. She translated some Russian and Turkish poets into Uzbek, as well as a book by Yunus Emro. She lived as a political immigrant with her family for five years in Turkey and five years in Ukraine and currently lives in Switzerland. She is married and the mother of five children. 

EPISODES OF NIGHT 

Grasshoppers chirp with a loud voice 
As if Tashkent is being boiled in bowl. 
There, far away, with seductive look 
Some prostitutes are smoking cigarette. 
Cars are flooding in the magistral 
They pause a little without any aim. 
From Nexia up to Nissan you may see 
Smoke of cigarette is swallowed by fate. 
Returning from work, hurrying to home 
People are on the road whose shoulders in pain. 
They think about sorrows and life problems 
However, all their thinking is in vain. 
Somewhere an infant is crying nonstop 
Maybe he was also abandoned by someone. 
Maybe his mother now holding a cup of wine 
Sharing her kisses to another man. 
Someone is crying and praying for God 
Hoping that Almighty will hear his words. 
Maybe it is the very day written by his fate 
In which all his sins will be forgiven. 
Something broke down accidentally 
The life of complaint came to its end. 
Night, why your embrace is full of sadness? 
I thank God that I have reached the dawn.

Sharipova Zuhro Sunnatovna (Zahro Shamsiyya) She was born on April 9, 1969 in the Nurata district of the Navoi region. Her first poem was published in 1985 in the Gulhan magazine. Uzbek publishing houses published works in the journal "Sharq Yulduzi", in the literature and art of Uzbekistan - "Ma'rifat", in various regional and district newspapers. World almanacs in Canada, -2017 in Dubai WBA 2018 "Turkish poets of the world" (Buta 3) 2019, "Muhammad Yusuf izdoshlari" 2017 almanac. She published her book "Ismsiz tuigular."

BALLAD OF THE MOON


Silence in the waiting... 
Taste of blind night, in the hidden belly
There are only two arms, like wounded logs
Remote islands where the castaways recover life
Woman - tree/ Destiny of light on earth
Only the opaque silence remains and substantive in every corner 
Please do not undress, my centuries of solitude just for the pleasure of thunder
Now that I have found you under the green colors of hope
Now that the mythology of your body lies on my shadow
Now that life emerges from the bottom of my soul... 
Don't go away! 
If you do, you will see how my eyes disappear under the slow ballad of the moon.


YOUR GROWING 

Red foam 
Brackish, 
With the wisdom of the waves that leave in the fiction of the horizon... 

Glorious in the arms of the sun 
A bunch of grains run away... 

The flame and the freshness flee 
For a model spike further from the sky

Release from prison in which one gets used 
He knows that the horizon divides hope 
Seeking to transgress, 
That force that prints 
When it advances and obstinates, the closing area... 

Socializing the looks 
Soon your growing will come again 
And with him, the confident drunkenness 
That all directions they take me... 
To find you!!


GRACIELA NOEMI VILLAVERDE writer. Poet from Concepción del Uruguay (Entre Rios) Argentina. Based in Buenos Aires She graduated in letters, author of seven books. Poetry genre. Awarded several times worldwide. She works as she, World Manager of Educational and Social Projects, of the Hispanic World Union of Writers .UHE World Honorary President of the same institution Activa de la Sade, Argentine Society of Writers. Commissioner of honor in the executive cabinet IN THE EDUCATIONAL AND SOCIAL RELATIONS DIVISION, of the UNACCC SOUTH AMERICA ARGENTINA CHAPTER.

FOR THE FOUR FACES OF FORGOTTEN 

Slides in oblique minutes 
the flash judged on the freedom tangent. 

My supplicating abysses scatter prayers 
inaugurating the sentence of the marked hour 
in the asylums of selfishness. 

The word commits suicide about the inverted angle of waiting, 
and in the orphanhood of darkness 
I can't dream of it... 

Oval blow on slope 
twists in a confusing circuit 
the truths of the cell laid bare 
that dissonants hang on the four sides of oblivion. 

Suspended in the unknown of Peace 
I seek to find protection in the sphere of "I have never been" 

Standing again... 
and again in scream... 
for the unrepeatable assumption. 

From giving birth to so many delusions, 
my instant scratched the shadowed skin of infinity.


VERTICAL RENAISSANCE
 
Vertical silence takes refuge in its rustic emptiness. 
Ride aimlessly on the inaudible memory of multiple broken voices
that are dying of light in irreverent mourning. 

In just moments, 
the memoryless raven releases from his beak 
the fierce breath of oblivion with death.
 
With the hands of a wounded bird, 
she attends the rehearsal of her own shipwreck, 
and he is a faceless witness of truths that are silent in the womb of life.
 
She has been condemned hard, for not having known how to measure time according to her! 

in concession, 
a tear sheds its skin, 
finally laying down the chains that vulnerably bound 
the last original cry, retained in the mysteries of origin. 

Today silence is reborn vertically 
and recovers its center of existence, 
and although it bears the name of cornered drop, 
seeks to restore new dead words. 


Argentine writer and poet. She has an extensive career.. Three Honoris Causa Doctorates in “Literature and Culture of Peace.” Pte. UNAccc, (Commission of Peace, Justice and Solid Institutions for South America and Argentina Chapter / Commission of Peace, Art and Culture for Mil Mentes por México in Argentina). Former Teacher. Workshop worker. International Cultural Manager. Lic. in Mediation. Ambassador for Peace of several organizations. Honorable Member of the World Hispanic Union of Writers, UHE and World Academy of Literature, History, Art and Culture. 13 books published. Multi - National and International Award Winner.

Am

I am spark  
that turns on the lights
so you don't walk 
in the dark
I am a flame
that lights the necessary bonfire
of the integration of the four elements
I am the flare  
that is seen from afar 
the inhabitants of the world  
know that it exists 
and that it 
has made invisible the barriers 
of language, race, religion and distance...
I'm blessed
I am the one who has endured 
through the years  
opening minds 
the Creator has been my guide 
in this crusade 
I alone 
a mere mortal 
would not have achieved it.

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.

Trees

In nature's grand tapestry, they stand tall,
Silent guardians, ancient and wise, one and all.
Their branches reach out, like arms embracing the sky,
Unfolding a spectacle that catches the eye.

Trees, oh trees, with your leaves so green,
Pouring tranquility into every scene.
Whispering secrets in the gentle breeze,
A melody of life that puts the heart at ease.

From mighty oaks to graceful willows we see,
A myriad of forms, each with its own decree.
Birch, maple, and pine, a diverse display,
Painting landscapes with hues in every way.

In spring, you shower us with blossoms fair,
A delicate burst of colors beyond compare.
In summer, your shade offers sweet relief,
A respite from the sun, a much-needed rep

Don Bormon is a student of grade 8 in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.