Mommy

My kind and my heaven,
My angel are only you.
In family you are queen,
No happiness without you.

You love us equally always,
You are the best mother.
You have the best kindness,
And you love the best father.

I tend to miss you every time,
Whenever I am far from you.
Not loving you is a crime,
Because the best one is you!

It was Hot Like Summer and the Demons Ran Deep, or Not in This Life Anyways


the rains had arrived when there was supposed to be snow, and the fields became beige and flaxen again, and the world was strange and stayed that way. it was as if it had longed to be strange and present that part of its personality that nobody cared about. and now that it had gotten the chance, it wasn’t going to give it up. for many days and nights the precipitation continued. an old solitary hawk that lived somewhere near or perhaps on the top of the movie-house came down and alighted atop a No Trespassing sign. a dirty sad area, who would want to trespass there anyhow? I watched the beautiful hawk as it looked for something, here and there a bit like you look for where you put your keys down right?- found it, jumped down, seeming to let itself fall down more so than jump, having just jumped into the air I felt, retrieved the thing, and left. later I had seen a few souls, two in person and two in vision, that presented well enough, but which I felt were possessed. I have a soft spot for the aged, the idea of the old man w/his sweater and perhaps book or cane even, hard fought sagacity as it were…but not these ones. whatever had taken up residence in them, if I was right, (you always have to leave room for the idea of being wrong), had really done a number on their souls. I was sad and always a bit startled at this. let them be for it was not my responsibility and besides,- these people wouldn’t only not change, but would defend their ideas to the end. pride. arrogance. one day that end would come, but that was up to the Whole, the Universe, God, whatever nomenclature or moniker one chose or that was in fashion. the rain was rain for the high temperature. if you went near a window or outside it actually felt warm and sometimes hot. back by the way of the hawk again, I glanced to see if my old friend who was not my real friend was around. nothing though. no hawk today. sometimes there is nothing but the rain. 



Brian Michael Barbeito is a Canadian writer and photographer. Prose poem and landscape photo book, Still Some Crazy Summer Wind Coming Through, is forthcoming from Dark Winter Literary Press, summer 2024. 

black cavities
outside the hospital 
empty corpses


compliance ...
cries for help 
getting louder 


burning flames 
outside the embassy 
a soldier protesting 


blood-stained gown
behind the window
a gasping doctor


ceasefire ...
a man in the rubble 
collecting body parts 

SOMETIMES 

Sometimes time rejects me 
Sometimes I deny it. 
There are still contradictions, contradictions, 
I'm running away... 
Sometimes protected by a long sentence, 
One word and three points more meaningful. 
Sometimes hidden in little verses, 
The meaning of great sayings. 
Sometimes it is not explained by silence 
The thick darkness of speaking 
And sometimes... 
In the light of a darkened 
Conscience 
The greatness of time is clearly visible... 

(Translated into English by: Elmaya Jabbarova. 
20.04.2024.)

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.

Education and its importance

   Education is the transfer of knowledge to a person, thereby developing intellectual, affective and moral abilities. That is, it is not only related to the study of didactic knowledge, which allows to perform various tasks with more or less skill. The possibilities in education are endless. It’s not about focusing all your energy on one point or limiting your abilities.

  The first thing that strikes me about education is the knowledge gained. Education informs us about the world around us and at the same time changes the world for the better. It develops and nurtures our perspective on life. It helps us to form thoughts and have visions around us in life. It doesn’t just mean giving us book knowledge, but painting, singing, painting, manners, etc. provides different knowledge about different skills like.

  With the increase in population, people’s needs are also increasing. Therefore, there are many firms that require a large number of employees to increase productivity. In this case, it is necessary to acquire knowledge and develop healthy competition among others

  Education is mainly important for children because they are the future of the world and they need to be updated with current knowledge. They are truly pillars of the nation. To develop the country and the world, it is necessary to secure the future and children with all their knowledge and skills are the right tools to build the nation. Children stand out from all issues as future leaders for the development of the nation; therefore each and every child should be educated.

  There are many different concepts and definitions of what education is, but one thing that can be generally accepted is the importance of education and the reasons for it.

Provides stability

 Education provides stability in life and is something that no one can ever take away from you. By getting a good education and a degree, you increase your chances of getting better career opportunities and open new doors for yourself.

 Provides financial security

  In addition to stability, education also provides financial security, especially in today’s society. A good education leads to a high-paying job.

Ensures equality

  For the world to be truly equal, it must begin with education. If everyone was given the same opportunities for education, the gap between social classes would be smaller. Everyone can have an equal chance at high-paying jobs.

 Provides independence

  An educated person will never be dependent on the opinion of others. He will have his own personal opinion.

Makes dreams come true

   If you can dream it, you can achieve it. Education is the most powerful weapon you can have and with it you can make all your dreams come true.

Provides security

   Education is not only necessary on a personal level but also on a global scale as it is what keeps our world safe and makes it a more peaceful place. Education teaches people the difference between right and wrong and helps people avoid dangerous situations.

 Confidence

   Self-confidence is an important part of being successful in life. And what better way to gain that confidence than through education? Your education level is often a way to prove your knowledge and it can give you the confidence to speak your mind and voice your opinion.

 Education makes a person a part of society.

   In today’s society, getting an education is an important part of being accepted by the people around you. Getting an education makes you a useful part of society and helps you feel like a contributing member.

Provides economic growth at the national level

   An educated person is very important for the economic growth of the society. In order for us to be constantly innovating, people need to keep learning and exploring. Economic situation also improves in countries with high literacy rate. If the population is educated, jobs will expand.

 Immaculate sky

 Wide and clear,
 It's always sunny.
 You can't stop looking
 Immaculate sky.

 Birds decorate the day,
 Star gazing at night.
 The moon shines
 Our eyes are happy.

 House of snow and rain
 Cloud's favorite.
 The heart of the peasants,
 Ascending beacon.

 The stars are kind,
 It shines every moment.
 Likes for humans
 A crescent moon in the sky.

 When you are happy, when you are sad,
 You can watch and enjoy.
 Forget your troubles
 You will reach your goal.

Murodova Muslima Kadyrovna was born on June 29, 2010 in Jondar district of Bukhara region. Currently, she is a 7th grade student of school No. 30 in this district. Her first poem was published in 2024 under the name "Come beautiful spring". Winner of many achievements. She won the 2nd place at the festival held in the district. She won the 1st place in the district stage and the 2nd place in the regional stage of the "Bakhtim Shul: Zulfiyasiman Uzbek" contest. Her first anthology was published by the UK publisher Justfiction Edition.

Beginnings

libel- noun
"defamation of persons by means
of written statements,
                                 pictures,
or other visible signs"

Defaming private people was bad enough,
                                                              but
"reflecting on those who are entrusted
with the administration of public affairs"
was even worse,
                          because it
"has a direct tendency
to breed in the people
a dislike in their governors
and incline them to faction and sedition"

This was the climate I worked in,
                                                  and
it didn't seem likely to change much, if any
My name is John Peter Zenger,
                                                though
I preferred to be called Peter
I made my living as a printer;
                                            unlike today,
                                                                owning a part
of what in America would come to be called the media
wasn't a pathway to great wealth,
                                                  so
when Lewis Morris and James Alexander
approached me about starting a paper
to be called the New York Weekly Journal,
for which they would provide the content,
I was receptive to the idea

The words were never mine,
but,
       as the printer of them
and with my name the only one on the paper,
I would be held responsible
                                           And
since I agreed to keep their names secret
(a secret kept until this moment),
                                                 solely responsible
(in exchange for keeping their identities hidden,
they agreed to support my family
and provide for my defense
should I be arrested for printing their words
Promises kept on both sides)

The grand jury three times
refused to indict me for libel,
                                          but
the determined royal governor
got around that quite easily,
and I was arrested November 17, 1734,
destined to spend the next nine months in jail

The words at the trial weren't mine either,
though I am proud to be associated
with those spoken by our side

The prosecution reminded everyone
"It is not material
whether the libel be true or false"
                                                 but
we trusted the jury to determine
if our words rose to the level of criminality
                                                              (whether
"the just complaints of a number of men
who suffer under a bad administration
is libeling that administration")
                                              and
the jury judged me not to have
committed criminal libel

I don't know if mine was the landmark case
that some have made it out to be
(I'll leave that debate for historians),
but it was a first step,
                                 a beginning:
though not citing my case directly,
afterward juries were reluctant to convict
anyone charged with seditious libel,
and that's enough for me



The Great Dissenter

SPOILER ALERT:
it's not Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.
(he's The King of the Weak Analogy,
                                                      and
later dissenting from your own weak analogy
falls far short of greatness)
                                          No,
it's a man by the name
of Robert Carter III

I wasn't born in September,
didn't die in September,
                                    but
in my seventy-seven years  here on Earth
two of the most important events in my life
took place in September, early September
to be precise:

                        September 6, 1777
At fifty,
I was baptized on this day,
                                        and
that went against the grain:
                                           Virginia
had an established church, the Anglican,
                                                            and
though soldiers were busy fighting the British,
some of them weren't too busy
to be among the mobs
that attacked and destroyed our churches
I eventually left the Baptists
because of doctrinal differences
Such dissent among the gentry
was usually labeled eccentric,
as it was in my case

                   September 5, 1791

"I have for some time past been convinced
that to retain them in Slavery in contrary
to the true Principles of Religion and Justice,
                                                                   and
that therefor it was my Duty to manumit them"
                                                                     and
on this date I submitted to the Court
what was called the Deed of Gift,
a schedule to emancipate my slaves gradually,
a schedule that would continue even after
my death a little over a dozen years later

I don't think anyone knows exactly
how many slaves were freed by this
(a few different numbers have been offered),
                                                                  and
it entirely possible that some
who thus obtained the necessary certificates
attesting to their freedom
weren't even my slaves,
                                    which 
I count as a good thing
                                     Though
I showed that gradual emancipation,
without eventual resettlement elsewhere,
was not only possible but practical,
few of my fellow Virginians
followed my example;
                                  in fact,
laws were soon passed to make it
more difficult for anyone to even try to do so

I always wanted to be
"laid under a shady Tree
where he might be undisturbed
& sleep in peace & obscurity"
                                             and
for the most part I have been such,
                                                    because
"My plans and advice
have never been pleasing to the world"
and because they didn't fit the narrative
that has come to be constructed
regarding my more famous contemporaries


Michael Ceraolo is a 66-year-old retired firefighter/paramedic and active poet who has had two full-length books (Euclid Creek, from Deep Cleveland Press; 500 Cleveland Haiku, from Writing Knights Press) published, and has two more, Euclid Creek Book Two and Lawyers, Guns, and Money, in the publication pipeline.