Don’t Be Stubborn tells a tale of five-year-old Sandra’s behavior as reported by her head teacher. She calls the attention of Sandra’s parents only to discover the reason behind Sandra’s stubborn behaviour.

Mr. Ben, as he is called, is a published poet, writer, playwright, essayist, lyricist, spoken words and voice over artiste. He has written a body of works that relates with several interests. His works touch on areas of education, inspiration, sexuality, entertainment, lifestyle and other interests, all with the aim of face-lifting mankind towards greatness . Given his multi-genre approach, Mr. Ben’s acrostic, G.A.N.G.S.T.A.R , which stands for Generally Appreciating Notable Genres by Stating Their Applicable Relevance, has now become his trademark. Based in Lagos, Nigeria, he delights in reading, traveling and meeting people.

Turn on instantly

your
ancient soul
son
of the gesture never given
while
your step
from the
marked time
he walks mighty
and
graceful
scratch the muse
sleepy
on golden laurels
that in bed
of petals never loved
rests
laid down.
She flies without wings
and
she draws in the sky
your crazy
path
myth
adored
of nights spent
clear
of moon.
Furious awakens
the stars
already turned off
and
give it again
the breath
vital
already sister to her
of many
seasons
and
gentle springs
colored
with a sincere soul
and
from the cold feel.
Wetsuit
the paths already travelled
and
with definite substance
and
armor of iron
dressed
print yours
deep groove
leaving
flourish
to the future to come
that the sign
never given
and 
never forgotten
in one breath
of pride
and of
humble passion
show some
enchanted
the true
value!

                                                                  

Mom

whisper of love
silent rustle
in the cradles you love
in the silence of the nights.
Looks
and love songs
those light hands
and the caresses on the faces
of children born in pain.
Mom
they are ointments
those words of yours
whisper in the night
to the chant of the lullaby.
Still your breath
on the skin and lips
pink mom in heart
your every smile
it is a wonderful flower.
   

The sea of life

It's like the sea
stormy
emotions agitate
confused thoughts
forgotten anchors
backdrops
still invisible
a vast ocean blue
to explore navigate.
We are small boats
the waves of life
they always toast
every moment
to our adversity
shores and hopes
they are landfalls
hoped.
We sail
silently
the storms
the swollen seas
the storms
and storm surges
they sweep like volcanoes
the faint memories
the tides bring us back
back in time.
We smile drowned
in the blues
marine waters
like shipwrecked people
we breathe
life and salt
forgetting
the acrid taste
some blood
that flows
in the sea
of life.



This sea

What is it
this sea
that drowns me
this evening
in this
blue sky
where the waves
and the tides
they caress
still
once
always
mine
emotions.
Ahhh
my life
loved life
how many times
you kissed
these waters
stir
and how many
times
you are
immersed
in the depths
of the backdrops
blue
where
the storm surges
sudden
they exhausted
submerged
drowned
my body
wet
from salt
of the ocean
immense
bed of water
infinite
sometimes
calm
other times
moved
furious
white waves
lapping
of living
daily.
Never
my life
you gave up
furious
and the sands
enlarged
of this sea
so agitated
you were
every time
privateer
pirate
and column
of the east
intrepid life
safe
of the route
tracked
in your heart
lighthouse
motionless
immersed
in the waters
stir
of this ocean
tumultuous sea
always on
never turned off.  


Verses of love and poetry

And it's evening
already dampened
the lights
in the silence
of the hearth
the love
without knocking
sneak in
in family homes
everything rests on the lips
like holidays
always love.
They fly in the air
sweet melodies
suspended
in the dark night
verses of love and poetry
singing
the words of life
mute they settle down
on the mouths
still smelling
of smiles and kisses
endless dreams.                                   ###.                                                                                                                     Little nightingale

As
you flew away
little nightingale
white your flight
and that suffering
a boulder
the words poem
on this night
dark in the heart.
You stole
the weather
you went to Heaven
mom
you are travelling
join dad
towards the stars
next to the memories.
In fate
outside the walls
now the streets
they are closed
mom is you
that book
never written
inside the lines
in the verses
of my thoughts.
Mom
those caresses
to my heart
the notes you love
and happy moments
your arms
welcoming
never tired
on my skin.
Now
mom
your breath
it is broken
broken by memory
and that pain
between the teeth
dampens life
I feel
still tight
to your chest
of infinite love
that he gave me
the life.

The poet Francesco Favetta was born in Sicily in Sciacca, he has always loved poetry, writing verses, but above all culture, food for the soul: culture is Freedom, it is Free Spirit, it is Soul in Movement, not it should never be harnessed!
In 2018 he was awarded by the Accademia di Sicilia, Academician of Sicily.
He has been published in various anthologies and in various magazines, among which, we mention a few:
international magazine The Poet;
Revista Azahar who edited the first Sylloge of Poems in Spanish: Encantamiento y Palabras como Plumas;
Anthology The Silk Road Anthology: Nano Poems for Africa; "Poetic Galaxy Atunis";
WorldSmith International Editorial; OPA The Poetry Journal; Inumbrable magazine; Magazine Polis; rank of minister in the Order of the Titan and publication of a lyric in Octobermania;
international literary magazine Kavya Kishor in Bangladesh;
international journal of language, literature and culture "Petrushka Nastamba" Serbia; international magazine, Namaste India and Certificate of Appreciation;
Different Truths social journalism platform;
Cisne Magazine Digital;
Humanity St. Petersburg magazine; fourth Panorama International Literature Festival Spain, delegate for Italy.
He founded a theater company in Sciacca: "Theatrum Socialis Sciacca", and a Lions Club, the "Sciacca Terme".
Finally, the poet Francesco Favetta is convinced that poetry will be the weapon with which humanity will make their lives free, and furthermore beauty will always be a truth that will never be buried:
from the times and events of daily human life!                              Francesco Favetta.                        Sicily (Sciacca )Italy 🇮🇹                                                                                         Sleeping muse

Francesco Favetta                         Sicilia (Sciacca) Italia 🇮🇹.                                                                            Versos de amor y poesía

Y es de noche
ya humedecido
las luces
en el silencio
del hogar
el amor
sin llamar
colarse en
en casas de familia
todo descansa en los labios
como vacaciones
siempre el amor.
Vuelan en el aire
dulces melodias
suspendido
en la noche oscura
versos de amor y poesia
cantando
las palabras de la vida
mudos se acomodan
en las bocas
todavía huele
de sonrisas y besos
sueños interminables.



Musa durmiente

Encender al instante
su
alma antigua
hijo
del gesto nunca dado
mientras
tu paso
desde el
tiempo marcado
camina poderoso
y
agraciado
rasca la musa
somnoliento
en laureles de oro
que en la cama
de pétalos nunca amado
descansa
acostado.
Volar sin alas
y
dibujar en el cielo
estás loco
camino
mito
adorado
de noches pasadas
claro
de luna
furioso despierta
las estrellas
ya apagado
y
dale de nuevo
el aliento
vital
ya hermana de ella
de muchos
estaciones
y
manantiales suaves
de colores
con un alma sincera
y
de la sensación de frío.
Traje de neopreno
los caminos ya recorridos
y
con sustancia definida
Y
armadura de hierro
vestido
imprime el tuyo
zanja
partida
florecer
al futuro por venir
que el signo
nunca dado
y
nunca olvidado
en un suspiro
de orgullo
y de
humilde pasión
muestra algo
encantado
la verdad
¡valor!

                                                                                                             Mamá

Mamá
susurro de amor
susurro silencioso
en las cunas que amas
en el silencio de las noches.
Aspecto
y canciones de amor
esas manos ligeras
y las caricias en los rostros
de niños nacidos con dolor.
Mamá
son ungüentos
esas palabras tuyas
susurro en la noche
al canto de la nana.
Todavía tu aliento
en la piel y los labios
mamá rosa en el corazón
cada una de tus sonrisas
es una flor maravillosa.



El mar de la vida

Es como el mar
tormentoso
las emociones se agitan
pensamientos confusos
anclas olvidadas
telones de fondo
todavía invisible
un vasto océano azul
para explorar navegar.
Somos botes pequeños
las olas de la vida
ellos siempre brindan
cada momento
a nuestra adversidad
costas y esperanzas
son recaladas
esperado.
Navegamos
silenciosamente
las tormentas
los mares hinchados
las tormentas
y marejadas ciclónicas
barren como volcanes
los vagos recuerdos
las mareas nos traen de vuelta
atrás en el tiempo.
Sonreímos ahogados
en el blues
aguas marinas
como náufragos
respiramos
vida y sal
olvidando
el sabor acre
un poco de sangre
que fluye
en el mar
de vida.



Este mar

Qué es
este mar
eso me ahoga
esta noche
en esto
cielo azul
donde las olas
y las mareas
ellos acarician
aún
una vez
siempre
mío
emociones
ahhh
mi vida
vida amada
cuantas veces
besaste
estas aguas
remover
y cuántos
veces
eres
inmerso
en las profundidades
de los fondos
azul
dónde
la tormenta surge
repentino
se agotaron
sumergido
ahogue
mi cuerpo
húmedo
de sal
del oceano
inmenso
cama de agua
infinito
a veces
calma
otros tiempos
movido
furioso
olas blancas
lapeando
de vivir
a diario.
Nunca
mi vida
te rendiste
furioso
y las arenas
engrandecido
de este mar
tan agitado
estabas
cada vez
corsario
pirata
y columna
del este
vida intrépida
seguro
de la ruta
rastreado
en tu corazón
faro
inmóvil
inmerso
en las aguas
remover
de este océano
mar tumultuoso
siempre encendido
nunca apagado.

###.                                            

Pequeño ruiseñor

Como
te fuiste volando
pequeño ruiseñor
blanco tu vuelo
y ese sufrimiento
una roca
el poema de las palabras
en esta noche
oscuro en el corazón.
Tú robaste
el clima
fuiste al cielo
mamá
estas viajando
únete a papá
hacia las estrellas
junto a los recuerdos.
En el destino
fuera de las paredes
ahora las calles
están cerrados
mamá eres tú
este libro
nunca escrito
dentro de las lineas
en los versos
de mis pensamientos
mamá
esas caricias
a mi corazón
las notas que amas
y momentos felices
tus brazos
acogedor
nunca cansado
en mi piel
ahora
mamá
tu respiracion
está roto
roto por la memoria
y ese dolor
entre los dientes
amortigua la vida
siento
todavía apretado
a tu pecho
de amor infinito
que me dio
la vida.


El poeta Francesco Favetta nació en Sicilia en Sciacca, siempre ha amado la poesía, escribir versos, pero sobre todo la cultura, alimento para el alma: la cultura es Libertad, es Espíritu Libre, es Alma en Movimiento, no debería ser nunca aprovechado!En 2018 fue premiado por la Accademia di Sicilia, Académico de Sicilia.Ha sido publicado en diversas antologías y en diversas revistas, entre las que mencionamos algunas:revista internacional El Poeta;Revista Azahar que editó el primer Silo de Poemas en Español: Encantamiento y Palabras como Plumas;Antología Antología de la ruta de la seda: nanopoemas para África; "Poética Galaxia Atunis";editorial internacional WorldSmith; OPA El Diario de Poesía; Revista Inumbrable; Revista Polis; rango de ministro en la Orden del Titán y publicación de una lírica en Octobermania;la revista literaria internacional Kavya Kishor en Bangladesh;revista internacional de lengua, literatura y cultura "Petrushka Nastamba" Serbia; revista internacional, Namaste India y Certificado de Apreciación;plataforma de periodismo social Diferentes Verdades; Revista Cisne Digital;la revista Humanity St. Petersburg; IV Festival Internacional de Literatura Panorama España, delegado de Italia.Fundó una compañía de teatro en Sciacca: "Theatrum Socialis Sciacca", y un Club de Leones, el "Sciacca Terme." Finalmente, el poeta Francesco Favetta está convencido de que la poesía será el arma con la que la humanidad hará libre su vida, y además la belleza será siempre una verdad que nunca será enterrada:de los tiempos y acontecimientos de la vida humana diaria!                                                                             Francesco Favetta                         Sicilia (Sciacca) Italia 🇮🇹.                                                                            Versos de amor y poesía

with a snap of the fingers
 

the muse wonders if i miss her

 

sitting alone, looking at a blank

ceiling thinking about all the

years pissed away with a snap

of the fingers

 

of course, i miss her

 

the bigger question is

does she miss me

 

do i linger on her mind as

she struggles to sleep

 

do i flash in her mind as

she begins to touch

 

i learned a long time ago

to never ask a question

if you weren't prepared for

an answer you didn't like

 

but the joy of becoming

an old bitter soul

 

hearing a no isn't going

to disappoint me more

than i already am

 

i never wanted to die alone

 

two in the morning on a friday

 

i don't think i have much of a choice
---------------------------------------------------------------
just seems more intense these days
 

paradise is on fire

 

the oceans are rising

 

the bombs keep falling

on the innocent

 

hero after hero is finding

death around that corner

 

i'm sure all the years

have been crazy

 

yet as the years go on

the crazy just seems

more intense these days

 

i am comfortable sitting

back and watching the

flames devour a world

i never got to visit

 

i have friends around

the world and i say a

little something for

them every night

before i fade out

 

i'm pretty sure they

all happen to live

on one-way streets
------------------------------------------------------------
the prettiest girl in the world
 

shooting stars

in the quiet

of the night

 

wishes never

seem to come

true

 

my mother

told me to

have patience

and one day

the prettiest

girl in the

world would

be mine

 

what a

fucking

lie
---------------------------------------------------------------------
a confession of sorts
 

whispers in the rain

 

a confession of sorts

 

never quite understanding

that everyone hates their

life

 

you are not special

 

it's a beautiful woman

telling you to fuck off

 

children that know

you're not the good

parent

 

another fucking dreamer

in a country that crushes

any dream that doesn't

involve loads of money

 

trace the lines of her

curves from memory

 

thirty some years ago

when a simple man

got as lucky as one

could get

 

she happened to die

on your birthday

 

life has never been

the same since
------------------------------------------------------------------
forever out of reach
 

neon nightmares of lost

lovers stranded in the

back of your dreams

 

close enough to picture

but forever out of reach

 

letter after letter returned

 

unopened

 

it's one thing to move on

it's another to be forgotten

 

i'm sure we'd all like to

go back and rewrite a few

chapters of our lives

 

turn all that childhood

misfortune into the story

of a dark knight that

becomes a hero

 

remember the late mornings

when the love of your life

would come over for coffee

and cigarettes

 

you'd end up naked, holding

each other on the couch for

hours

 

no clue about how steep the

upcoming hill would be

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know better. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Cajun Mutt Press, Horror Sleaze Trash, Mad Swirl, Disturb the Universe Magazine and The Rye Whiskey Review. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)

Innocence


Two families lived peacefully in a suburb of Jacmel, capital of the southeastern department of the Republic of Haiti. They are herders. Both families were well respected in the neighborhood.

 

One day, the Jean family was furious to see that their goat was killed by a member of the Joseph family under the famous pretext that the animal ate a few plants of corn in their garden. This unfortunate situation caused a fierce argument to the point of seeking to kill each other.

That same day, in the afternoon, the two families would face off in a fight with daggers drawn. This is when they noticed from afar two children who were flying a kite together. They were very happy, and they were playing like two wild children.

 

Suddenly, the two families were reconciled because one child belonged to the Jean family and the other to the Joseph family.

 

~Roodly Laurore

_________________________________________________

L’ innocence

 

 

Deux familles vivaient paisiblement dans un banlieue de Jacmel, chef lieu du département du Sud-est de la république d'Haïti. Elles faisaient de l'élevage. Les deux familles étaient très respectées dans le quartier.

 

Un jour, la famille Jean était furieuse de voir que son cabrit a été tué par un membre de la famille Joseph sous le fameux prétexte que l'animal a mangé quelques pieds de maïs dans son jardin. Cette malheureuse situation a provoqué une dispute farouche au point qu'elles cherchaient à s'entretuer. 

 

Le même jour, dans l'après-midi, les deux familles allaient s'affronter dans un combat à couteaux tirés. C'est ainsi qu'elles ont remarqué de loin deux enfants qui montaient ensemble un cerf-volant. Ils étaient très heureux, ils jouaient comme deux fous. 

 

Tout à coup, les deux familles se sont réconciliées parce que les deux enfants appartenaient l'un à la famille Jean et l'autre à la famille Joseph. 

 

Roodly Laurore

________________________________________________

 

Roodly Laurore was born and raised in Haiti. He is an engineer and poet. His poems are published & forthcoming in Spirit Fire Review, Taos Journal of Poetry, Kosmos Journal, Autism Parenting Magazine; Solstice Literary Magazine, The New Verse News, Synchronized Chaos, Jerry Jazz Musician and others.  His writing & spiritual life touches the lives of everyone who knows him.  He's a role model in his community!

The Fall of Aryantha

Long time ago, there lived an emperor named Zylo who ruled Aryantha. Aryantha was the largest empire in Africa and was well known for its dominance and strong army, which had gone into several wars and conquered other smaller kingdoms and empires.
Zylo was selfish and filled with pride. He had a lot of wives, including the wives and daughters of other rulers he had snatched. He named himself 'The God of Africa' with the intention to overthrow and rule over the continent at large. However, Emperor Ludiar of Shakkiraa and Emperor Pailomen of Gajida were opposing forces who stood firmly against him. Aryantha was situated between two other great empires: Gajida from the West and Shakkiraa from the East. These were the only obstacles preventing him from carrying out his evil plans.

Emperor Ludiar was a young man who inherited the throne from his late father, who was killed by Zylo some years ago. For this reason, a strong enmity was created between Ludiar and Zylo. Ludiar vowed not to rest until his father's death was avenged. Therefore, he united with Pailomen and rulers of other empires whom Zylo had offended in one way or another.

Lecias, the first wife of Emperor Zylo, was not comfortable with his idea of keeping so many enemies. She advised him not to continue being a villain, but he failed to listen. "You see, your neighbors are now against you. They might all one day rise for your downfall," said Lecias. But Zylo laughed and said, "For centuries, Aryantha has remained the greatest. My father was the greatest emperor during his reign, as was his own father. And for this reason, I shall hold onto their legacy. Trust me when I say, my foes will rise a hundred times, but they all shall be subjugated."

"Your forebears led Aryantha through the right path; they created peace, not war," Lecias mentioned. But all her words fell on deaf ears.

With desperation to be called a god, Zylo decided to send his army into the spirit world to steal the sacred scripture, which contained sources of spiritual powers and secrets of the gods. Lecias tried her best to prevent Zylo from carrying out such a decision, but her efforts were futile as Zylo was too stubborn. He, therefore, sent half of his soldiers, including the strongest warriors, into the spirit world and happily waited for their return to become a supreme being.

This made Lecias very worried about the outcome. She knew that Africa would surely face a massive tribulation if Zylo succeeded. So she decided to stop him.

While Zylo was relaxed and patiently waiting for the return of his soldiers, Lecias went to Shakkiraa to see Ludiar. Ludiar and his kinsmen were having a meeting at the royal chamber when they were informed by the guards that Lecias had come to see him. "Let her in," he permitted, and she was brought in.

"What brings a doe into the den of a hungry lion?" Ludiar questioned, and one of the chiefs commented, "Perhaps she has come to be devoured," and they all burst into laughter.

"I have come to you with good news," Lecias began, and the chiefs started whispering among themselves. "This could be a ploy. She looks so deceptive, she is a real enemy and not worth trusting."
"You may proceed," Ludiar told her, and she exposed Zylo's plans to them. "I think this is the right time to strike," she concluded.

"Why should we even trust you?" Ludiar asked, and she spoke again, "Zylo is my husband, but he has taken the wrong path. I cannot sit back and watch him ruin the world."

With these and other convincing words, she was able to win the trust of the Shakkiraans. She pleaded with them not to harm the innocent during their attack, and Ludiar gave her his word, promising not to hurt children and their mothers. He also assured her that she would be protected.

Ludiar took the information to Pailomen, who was glad to hear it. A spy was then sent into Aryantha, and he confirmed that the message was true. Being convinced, Ludiar and Pailomen wrote letters across the neighboring regions for a conspiracy against Aryantha.
Reaching the spirit world, the gods warned Zylo's soldiers to return home in peace, but they were determined to accomplish their mission. So they started a battle they could not fight. The gods were extremely powerful; they rode on chariots of fire, and their forces were irresistible.

Zylo's soldiers faced woe at the hands of the angry gods. Their weapons were of no use, as they were given no chance to fight back, even though they made worthless efforts. The strongest warriors became cowards, running away for their dear lives but finding no escape route, and they were all destroyed.

One night, while Zylo was asleep, dreaming of becoming an unstoppable god, he was woken up by a loud trumpet blown from afar. In the old days, such trumpets signified the call for war. At this terrible moment, Lecias was nowhere to be found. Zylo looked from his castle and saw thousands of burning arrows flying into his palace. He was overwhelmed with fright, knowing that he was now powerless.

It was a very bad night for Zylo because Shakkiraa and Gajida united with other nations, forming a strong army that surrounded the whole of Aryantha, leaving no escape route.
Now, reality brought a nightmare to Zylo's face. With his naked eyes, he watched the arrival of his doom, yet he was unable to wake from his slumber. His army tried to fight back, but the power from the opposition was higher than theirs. Soon, parts of the palace were set ablaze and crowded by enemies. Zylo had no choice but to fight for himself since his soldiers could no longer keep him safe.

He swung his sword and took down the first group of soldiers that came his way. Then, another group attacked him, but he was still strong enough to defeat them until Ludiar and eight giant warriors surrounded him. Ludiar's eyes reflected ire and hatred as he stared at Zylo.

"Zylo of Aryantha, your teeth have bitten more than your tiny mouth can chew, and today you shall pay bitterly for all your sins," said Ludiar.

"Little boy, your father was wiser and greater than you, yet it took just a single drop of sweat to wipe him off. So what makes you think you can overcome me?" Zylo uttered proudly.
"The lion is strong indeed, but when angry hyenas fall out in good numbers, then the lion's pawns become powerless," said Ludiar, and the fight continued.

Zylo fought with all his strength and killed six of the warriors before Ludiar finally managed to knock him down. Yet he refused to quit even at the point of death. Despite all the cuts and stabs from Ludiar, Zylo kept struggling, hoping for the return of his exiled warriors, whom by then had all perished in the spirit world.

Lastly, a broad smile ran across Ludiar's face as soon as Zylo took in a deep breath and ceased to shake. "Father! It is finished. Your son has fulfilled his promise. Here lies the lifeless body of your murderer," he shouted out, referring to the spirit of his late father.

The defeat of Zylo was indeed a happy moment for all his enemies. All his remaining soldiers surrendered and were captured, but mercy was shown unto them, so they were not killed.

All the kingdoms and empires that had been taken over by Zylo were returned, together with every stolen property. The prisoners and slaves were set free, and the main lands of Aryantha were shared equally among the surrounding empires that took part in the battle.
However, for the sake of Lecias, the people of Aryantha were not enslaved, but they became minor indigenes of various empires, except for Lecias, who was well honored and made the prime minister of Shakkiraa.

Queen of Epic

You are the greatest epic 
I have written with love and love. 
The words are unseen 
The language is dumb 
The words are dreamy
The verses are virgin. 
Nobody can read it,
 Listen it,
 Or understand it. 
But I read it,
 Listen it,
 And understand it. 
I and you are the characters
 I am the real hero
 You are a dream girl.
 I have conquered everything 
But time is the main villain. 
I shall beat time
 And Conquer dream
 One day dream will not be dream
 You will be mine
 The Epic has beginning but no end.
 Oh! the queen of epic,
 Come and touch love land. 
My love land is for you
 Without you no epic is epic
 Without epic you are not Queen.