Purpose of Everything
If one is to drink water,
urinate to dispose water,
and later be thirsty again.
What is the use of drinking water?
If everything is for naught?
Why do most creatures eat, sleep, labor and fight to survive?
Some believe in life after death,
but there are those who do not.
Why do they persist doing good
when there are others doing bad?
If everything is for naught?
Why mate, procreate and strive daily in order to have better life?
Why do people even care to seek to understand when all is for naught?
Why do people seek power, fame, and glory when all is for naught?
Or is everything really for naught?
Deadliest Weapon
Guns to be banned. Knives to be banned
I am waiting for when rocks are banned. After all, a rock was known to be the first murder weapon. Or so I heard about Cain and Abel.
But then, how should we go about herbs, drugs, missiles, bombs, media and tongues?
Mind is the deadliest murdering weapon I think.
With so many ways of killing weak and innocent ones, even without any logical reason at all. With so many wicked moves for different kinds of death, not only by losing one's life.
So sad that it is innocent ones being snatched from the living stage, and the culprit never dies, just changing names and bodies to dwell in.
So sad, when the culprit is being protected, while the innocent ones are ignored. When data is accepted without confirming the accuracy of information.
So sad, that right belongs to the might, and blame belongs to the shield. When one is compelled to stand on the sides or be a collateral damage as well.
So sad, that a candle lighted to face the darkness seems to be losing a battle against a collective wind that trespasses a private room.
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 consider poetry as a voice for Truth in pursuit of Equality and proper Stewardship of nature despite the hindrances of distorted information and traditions.
FOUR SEASONS WITH DEAD LEAVES…
Passed four seasons with the dead leaves,
Which season we have expected other than this,
Why haven’t we bloomed in any season?
Why have all of them hated us,
What bad evil have we done to them while,
We were busy with ourselves and the world?…
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. Currently lives in Switzerland. Married, mother of five children. It was not possible to publish poems and translations written by the poet in the next ten years.
Filthy Game of Sun and Water
Filthy game between Sun and Water,
Has sharply started severely;
The conspiracy of witch Air
Who is the protagonist by blowing madly.
Innocent Earth shivering with fear.
Water trying to sink the Sun into his strong current with his wet hand
Trying to extinguish sunshine.
For Water raging earth's heart turns into flood land; blacken the whole world with thick darkness.
Rising up high, Sun attacks mercilessly -
Like a thirsty bitch quaffed water as wine.
By sipping with greedy lips;
Soaked the heart of Ocean-
Aridity grasped the whole Earth's throat.
Cracking sound of breaking World is heard.
Ah! lovely mother Earth misusing as a center of a battle ground
Filthy game of Sun and Water.
Aklima Ankhi, poet, storyteller and translator from Cox'sbazar, Bangladesh. Born in Mymensingh, Bangladesh. She has a published poetry named "Guptokothar Shobdochabi" written in Bangla. She is a post graduate in English Literature. As a profession she is a Lecturer in English.
My School
The name of our school is Harimohan Government High School.
This is one of the biggest and oldest schools of Bangladesh.
A place of pride for the students.
The school has a great reputation.
Reputable for us.
We have gotten the school,
By a great person’s contribution.
His name is Harimohan.
He was a big landlord,
His full name is Harimohan Mallik.
The school has many great achievements.
It has been considered the best school of Rajshahi Division in Nineteen-Eighty-Seven.
Our school has many co- curricular activities.
Scout, Red-Crescent are worth meaning.
The students of our school are very smart than the other schools.
The teachers of our school are very skilled than the other schools.
The technologies of our school are very advanced than the other schools.
So, I feel very proud to be a student of this school.
Don Bormon is a student of grade 8 in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.
Across The Rift
We constantly try to go across the rift
If only we get accepted by the hand
Our land is green but still we leave
Moving over to find greener pasture
If there were no airplanes
Some would go across on bare feet
To a place the mind paints as good
Risking the quotidian lives in a desert.
Sabrid Jahan Mahin is a student of grade 9 in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.
Energy
Energy, the name of my friend
An excellent room to live in the soul
How exciting! I live and die
The taste of the fruit I enjoy every morning
Or like the rose I frequently run and lost in fragrance
By kissing and hugging connected in the magic bond
Always infatuated by
No more suiting than this mystic drug.
Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh
27 July, 2023Sheikh Russel in Memory
It was 15 August night, 1975
Darkness and panic seized around
Here and there blood was rolling on
Stained on the wall and floor
In the 32 Number House at Dhanmodi
10-year-old Russel cried out in fear
"Take me to my mother"
Russel sobbed on
"We are taking you to your mother"
The assassins fired him bullets soon
The little boy, the innocent cry
The lovely flower face fell down to death
It was raining then
Today the rain pours in every Bangalees' heart
The sound of bullet still rebounds ----------
The people of Bangladesh stand up with a vow
"Amar Sonar Bangla, Ami Tomai Valobasi"
I love you through all.
Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh
12 August, 2023
The Farmers of Bangladesh
In Bangladesh's fields, farmers toil,
Planting seeds, working the soil.
Day by day, under the sun's ray,
Growing food along the way.
With weathered hands and hearts so true,
They make the land come alive and new.
Harvesting dreams from dawn to dusk,
In their hard work, they put their trust.
Wazed Abdullah is a student of grade 8 in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.
