Oh flower,
are you scared
from a temporary wind?
did you hide among the leaves?
didn't it fall down you
old walls?
Have you shed your leaves?
Did you keep your dreams alive?
Why are you still bowing your head?

The air smells like rain
Oh, flower
be afraid of mud!
from mud!

Contact


 I forgot what a kiss is The taste of an afternoon coffee.
So as the waves pulled from the land, I feel like a desert ship.

Contact I forgot what that word means, Shipwreck for months In books I look for a meaning to embrace me, to tell me everything will be fine ..
 To go and leave those roses in my father's memory, To light a candle to the Virgin Mary.

Contact, To be in your dream hug Let me see your eyes To smell your perfume I'm looking for that word in that old dictionary



Forgiveness


A word that is coming out from the brave heart

I am not asking to forgive as a Human

I am asking to forgive as a God
As HE has the kindness and the generosity to see the human's mistake.

I am asking to forgive not a as a man
But as An Angel that every day and night 
Is traveling from Earth to sky....

I don't need any paper
Green or blue

I saw  your heart
You had it there in front of me...
I understand that silence
That silver silence

I am damned in sky and earth...
I am just a soul traveling alone..

Seeking for forgiveness.....

1)

lingering

1,000 explosions

welcome to

the masquerade.

 2)

you trespassed

on my rituals

through slaughter

my deeper dreams

turn to black.

3) 

nearly touching

energy expanded

from

melting flesh.

 4)

sweet relief

substitute

bones for

reality.

 5)

i met you in

the metallic

kiss

your eyes

focused

on

babylon.

6) 

sparse infinity

tragedy them rocks

our unfortunate union

leading ultimately

to a death mask.

 7)

taking the coastal path

where i left your lifeless

body

in several parts

sand induced

      hysteria.

 8)

clouds over your hope

ballooning your integrity

lost within virginity.

 9)

i have a thousand

internal sons

dividing the world into

ectoplasmic futures.

 10)

dripping jewel

you brought me rust

on diamond legs

with frozen epithets.

i climbed into

your empty spaces.

 11)

you stretched across my rack

to convince me of your devotion

take your time now

to recall those old days

but take care

as the farewell leaves your lips

the scream of past days follows you.

 12)

fairy tales

surround the wooded path

where lurks the foetus

whose curses shatter

on the leafy tongues.

(ends)

Clive Gresswell is a 65-year-old British innovative writer and poet. He has several books out obtainable through Amazon or LJMcD Communications.

Bare life

Adam Zagajevski says in one of his songs
That we have to settle for a cramped prisoner's cell
Cobwebs covered cities, metropolises, countries
in fact, it covered everything that is called house, home
and all of this is interwoven with longing that once upon a time everything was or will be
different someday
Our bodies are exposed, stripped, decentralized
My interlocutor seems to be breathing as we travel illegally on German paved roads
As if to say, lean over
I lean in too
And I fall into the slow eyes, like Alice I sleep in the fall
I hear him say that there may or may not be a way out
All we have left is prayer
God will settle the score
He is not dead as they say
The man is not dead
I sigh and wonder if I am human, am I already dead?
I hold my breath and return to the nearest star
"Aren't these myths, all these unions, all this crap about attacking, not attacking
We are just players in some game we played as children, remember??"
I try to remember, but I keep feeling the policeman's rough hands touching me
I'm naked in every coat and I'm shaking with fear
And where are we going, to embrace death?

I melt in the endless horizon, the fabric is soft, happy substances flow through my veins
History is a schizophrenic record looking for good slaves.
Man is a historical idea, which should be understood in every language.
Or at least one would think so
"I think we will succeed there, if I succeed I will bring my wife and children
And you can find someone, a German woman"
He starts to smile, then abruptly stops the movement of his lips
"'What the hell, it's not all that dark, don't give up, hold on!"
He hits me on the shoulder
Before us, the flowers of evil sing their songs
It broke apart as we catch a glimpse of the shadows of the eve
Maybe I see my mother, my father, my house
The shy red ray of the sun hints that nothing is left
Even if we die, so what?

Emina Đelilović-Kevrić (Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina) After studying the b/h/s (bosnian/croatian/serbian) language and literature at the Philoshopical Faculty in Zenica she got her master's degree on the subject „Memory construction in the South Slavic interlinear community: typical models of the war camp experience in literature“. She is the author of the poetry collection „ This time without history“ and the short stories collection „ Erased lives“. Her collection of poems „ My son and I“ is awarded by the Publishing Foundation of Bosnia and Herzegovina in 2021. In 2022 she won the second place in the international literature competition „ Isnam Taljić“. She is the winner of the second award for the best short story of the regional literature competition „Zija Dizdarević“ 2022, and she won the first place on international literature competition „Nastavi priču“. 2023. she won a third place on international poetry competition „Ossi di Seppia“ Italy.

THE CHARACTER OF JALOLIDDIN MANGUBERDI IN HISTORICAL SOURCES

Karimova G.Q
Urganch State University

Abstract: The image and personality of Sultan Jalaluddin Manguberdi is described in the article.
Key words: Khorezmshahs, Mankburnis, Juvainis of Atama, Shihobiddin An-Nasawi, Mongols, Kudrat Mashiripov, Maksud Sheikhzade.

A brave fighter who sacrificed his life for the freedom of the country, a true patriot, a national hero, a great man who left an indelible mark in the history of world nations, a skilled commander, the last ruler of the Khorezmshah dynasty, Sultan Jalaluddin Manguberdi (1198-1231) is the eldest son of Muhammad Khorezmshah. He lives 33 years and spends 11 years of his life in battle. Full name: Jalaluddin ibn Alauddin Muhammad. Jalaluddin was named Mankburni because he had a hole (mank) on his nose. Later, this name changed in pronunciation and became known as “Manguberdi”.

Many scholars wrote works about Sultan Jalaluddin Manguberdi. Aluuddin Otamalik Juvaini says about Sultan Jalaluddin in his work “Tarihi Jahon Kuso”:

“Among the sons of Sultan Muhammad, Sultan Jalaluddin was the oldest, the crown of the kingdom, courageous, learned, and the light of the lamp of theology. Despite the fact that other brothers were given worldly blessings, Sultan Jalaluddin never left his father’s side and helped him in state affairs. When his father did right and wrong things, he told them to his face.

Jalaluddin Manguberdi’s munshi, contemporary and close friend, Shihobbiddin An-Nasawi, wrote down a lot of information about the Sultan in his work “Siirat al-Sultan Jalal-ad-Din”. He states that he fought for the freedom of the country and the people, fought against the Mongols for 11 years, fought against the Mongols 14 times and won 13 battles.

Kudrat Masharipov mentions that Jalaluddin Khorezmshah was the bearer of the freedom struggle, he was successful in the continuous struggles, he showed himself as a famous general and a great statesman, and in a short time he restored the state of the Khorezmshah empire in the south-west of Iran, Khorasan, Azerbaijan, and Iraq.

In fact, even to this day, our grandfather is Mangubarhayat. Maqsud Sheikhzade expresses the image of Sultan Khorezmshah in the drama “Jalaluddin Manguberdi” with the following words:
… He who has a place in mortality – lives forever, I’m Manguberdi, I know.

From the sky, from the water, or from the ground, Maybe from the desert, from the foot of the mountain, I’ll show up here one day
The devil of the country is in an un-buryable desert-cave.
Death does not blind to noble intentions, Whoever chases the enemy from his country, it is me…

In conclusion, the memory of our ancestors who sacrificed their lives for the freedom and peace of the country will always be alive. Their bravery, bravery and bravery in the way of the fate of the homeland is an example. It is difficult to express the great courage of our great grandfather in one word. Sultan Jalaluddin fought valiantly against the enemy while protecting his country. He heroically imprinted his image and his boundless love for the motherland in the history.

Reference list:

1. Juvaini of Otama. The history of the world. Translation by Nazarbek Rakhim. T: MUMTOZ SOZ, 2015. – 275 p.
2. Q. Masharipov. Jalaluddin Manguberdi’s role in world political and military history. Tashkent: Yoshlar media print, 2021. – 256 p.
   Internet networks:
3. Ziya.uz

(Five igneous reddish brown stones lined up in a horizontal line. Last one is bigger)

(Same five stones, covered at the bottom with translucent gauze)

(Stones all covered with the gauze)

M.P. Pratheesh has published several collections of poetry and personal essays in Malayalam. His texts and images were part of ‘let me come to your wounds; heal myself’, a cross -disciplinary art event curated by C F John(2020-2022). His poems and/or object/visual poems have been appeared at various places including Singing in the dark (Penguin,2020), Greening the earth (Penguin,2023), Modern Poetry in Translation, Almost island, Portside Review, RlC journal, Indianapolis Review, Indian Literature and elsewhere. His recent publications are Transfiguring Places(Paperview books, Portugal,2021) and The Burial, (Osmosis press, UK, 2023). He is the recipient of Kedarnath Singh Memorial poetry prize, 2023.

Those Lost Words of Love

In your eyes I can still see the shadow of passion 
that once stormed between us 
like the force of a rushing river never ceasing 
Our talks were exciting and our interests
were so similar, as if we were one person
Then the day came when words became silent
and tears told the world our painful tale 
At times I hope that you will find the beautiful
lines of the never ending love story once again
Even now, I remember the words you once spoke,
and I swear at times you want to speak them again
Those lost words that you still refuse to say to me
sit on tip of your tongue, yet you will not utter them
But I refuse to accept that those words of love for me are not still there 
Just speak them to me once more ❤




"God! Do You Cry Too"?

Today while trying to make sense of it all
When I look around and see so much evil
When what was created so perfectly 
has become so wrong, I wonder...
Does God cry?

When I read He made me in his likeness
and He tells me clearly through his word
that there is no other love greater than His
I think of how sensitive he has made my heart
and I can't help but ask... "God, do you cry too?"

And when I see a child who has been abused
And you have called them our greatest treasures
Do you take vengeance on such evil?
"God!  How do you cope, when you see their tears?
Tell me!   Do you cry too?"

I think He must.  Because the One who taught me
how to love; Who taught me about faith; Who commanded me to love one another must have a heart as sensitive as mine.. 
and I think, "God, I believe you cry and grieve just like me."

"Because no other could care as deeply as You do."

"You count every tear I cry.. But Lord, who counts yours?"



Longing for Spring

The clouds cried again today as a cold wind blew across a sunless sky of gray.
I watch an orange fall off my tree and I wait until the rain becomes a sprinkle to collect it.
I walked outside feeling the mist hit my face
to pick up the fruit that lay on the wet earth while admiring it's vibrant orange color.
As I peel the fruit which uncovers its perfume, I close my eyes and savor it's sweet nectar.  
I enjoy seeing the green grass in the garden covered with rain, which brightens it's color. 
Spring is waiting to burst out as Narcissus flowers now show off their yellow faces.
I long to see the the blue sky of Spring again; 
Waking up to the scent of jasmine that will soon bloom, and the  gentle morning song of the sparrow that lightens my mood.
Once more will I be able to hear the owls call to me while sitting on my porch in the dark, as the coyotes howl an eerie song in unison. 
I welcome again the warm breeze that lightly touches my skin as it blows gently through the sheer curtains covering my bedroom window. 
And I will fall asleep to the calming sound of the crickets and the croaking frogs as the stars twinkle behind a bright full moon on a beautiful Spring night. 





Kristy Raines was born  in Oakland, California, in the USA. 
She is a poet, writer, author and advocate.
She has five books getting ready to publish soon, one with a prominent poet from India which will launch hopefully soon called, "I Cross my Heart from East to West", two fantasy books of her own called, "Rings, Thins and Butterfly Wings" and "Princess and The Lion", and an anthology of poems in English,"The Passion Within Me" and her Autobiography called "My Very Anomalous Life"
Kristy has received many literary awards for her unique style of writing.