The Two Malta Trees

I was just getting ready to cut down the trees

The two Malta trees I planted four years ago

But there blooms not a single flower from then

I lost my patience and just took the cutter in my hand

‘To be, or not to be, that is the question’

Suddenly like a magic art I saw from both of them

The branches covered with flowers

My heart filled with joy

I stopped and waited for a while

Gradually the tree like the little ball blazed with the Maltas

So many Malta in the trees with the light of green stars

The birds are calling near them

Something heavenly whispers in my ears

The light of my smiling face reflects on them

I just came back to my thought

And found the path

Of the stretching glory in the belly

That comes to light at the time of the natural beauty.

Md. Mahbubul Alam is from Bangladesh. His writer name is Mahbub John in Bangladesh. He is a Senior Teacher (English) of Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh. Chapainawabganj is a district town of Bangladesh. He is an MA in English Literature from Rajshahi College under National University. He has published three books of poems in Bangla. He writes mainly poems but other branches of literature such as prose, article, essay etc. also have been published in national and local newspapers, magazines, little magazines. He has achieved three times the Best Teacher Certificate and Crest in National Education Week in the District Wise Competition in Chapainawabganj District. He has gained many literary awards from home and abroad. His English writings have been published in Synchronized Chaos for seven years.

The Beauty of Monsoon

The skies grow dark with a velvet grace,

Clouds gathering in a soft embrace.

A whisper stirs the sleeping trees,

And dances gently with the breeze.

First drops kiss the thirsty land,

Painting gold where dust once ran.

The earth exhales a musky sigh,

As peacocks call beneath the sky.

Fields awaken, lush and green,

Bathed in nature’s silver sheen.

Raindrops tap on roofs and glass,

A lullaby as moments pass.

Children splash in puddled lanes,

Their laughter rising with the rains.

Leaves glisten with jeweled light,

And frogs croak songs into the night.

Streams that slept begin to sing,

Revived by monsoon’s magic wing.

Each droplet writes a tale anew—

Of life, of hope, in shades of blue.

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

Wind of Desire

Ah wind I see you there so far

Windows locked entrance to bar

Yet I desire you like the morning star

Pros and cons in me wage their war

So warm and gentle your breeze

My battered soul you softly tease

Yet in coldness my heart freeze

Time has turned fermented cheese

Past betrayal and pains to avoid

Left a crystal crust filled with void

Dreams and inspirations toyed

Rainbows and moon light buoyed

Yearnings have ignited the fire

Poking the dying embers of fire

Flames to devour the wraps of desire

Cleansing the wood soaked in mire

Ah wind I see you so far yet so near

Window’s shutters blocked by fear

Yet you still whisper and call me dear

Walls and doors blown down to tear.

Dream Catcher

I wonder why the Native Indian dream catcher is made as it is.

Does it have a web to show the Complexity of Life,

Yet show all are connected because it is made of a single string?

Does it have a frame of a hoop as the Cycle of Life,

Holding it firm and intact, without a beginning and no end?

Does it have the feathers, for the heart to be always Light,

Dust away all that is evil, all the fears and worries and other negative spirits?

I know not, but a dream to catch I have,

May it be sieved in the web to cast the pride and selfishness away,

May it flow continuously in a hoop of hope,

And may it fly with bright feathers way up high

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.

The sea and your memory

At dusk,

I saw a figure

I’m sure

it was your sign

telling me: “I’m here

just a glance away.”

The sea reminds me of you

The waves crash on the shore.

The smell of salt reminds me of you.

We were happy, here, in this place.

And today, I know you’re waiting for me.

Wherever you are…

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.

With Achievement

Everyone’s eye on the light,

The light is attracted to the brilliant.

Improve life by keeping in the light.

Everyone wants to live with respect and respect,

Many do not know that respect and respect are not cheap.

Gains respect in the work of achievement,

To everyone is valuable in valuable work,

Life is on the way to Tatini.

Achievement in one’s own hands,

If you work hard,

Your own life must improve.

In the hope of the dream of the dream, in the hope

Only if the equation of reality will shine the light of hope.

In the eastern sky, the clouds are frozen, the clouds are erased over time.

Life is shaking the light of hope,

You have to move on with it.

Fresh Character

Fresh mind fresh character,

Fresh water everyone likes.

Fresh thinking, everything achieved.

Rule of life, everything has a margin.

Fresh air good,

Fresh character proves fresh personality,

Create an awesome mentality.

Short biography: Amb. Dr.Priyanka Neogi from Coochbehar. She is an administrative Controler of United Nations PAF,librarian,CEO of Lio Messi International Property & land Consultanncy, international literacy worker, sports & peace promoter, dancer, singer, reciter, live telecaster, writer, editor, researcher, Literary journalist, host, beauty queen, international Co-ordinator of Vijay Mission of Community Welfare Foundation of India.

The Wandering Hat 

It was a summer night,

the stars were mirrors of a wandering soul,

my friend, a whisper of wind in the countryside,

decided that life was a vibrant song.

We boarded the train, an iron leviathan,

devouring the tracks with its fiery breath,

but in a twist in the fabric of time,

his hat, a balloon, rose into the present.

The train, a river of steel in its bed,

took its emblem, its shadow on the journey,

and he, like a navigator in search of a lasso,

ran after his star, his light, his passenger.

Laughter and wailing danced in the air,

as the train vanished into the gloom,

my friend, a poet in his own disdain,

promised he would return, and he did so in the mist.

In the end, she understood that the waves of fate

sometimes require us to let go of what overwhelms us,

like a hat that flies along a road,

laughter is a compass, and the journey, a feather.

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

Father’s Shadow

You’re gone, yet you’re everywhere.

In the scent of morning tea, in the quiet of the house when everything is still.

In a phrase I speak, not knowing I once learned it from you.

You loved cats, dogs, birds — every creature that breathes.

You used to say animals are more honest than people,

and you spoke to them as equals.

They loved you, just as the world did — quietly, but forever.

You would stand in the middle of the room and recite,

with hands that never sought applause,

only to let the feeling pass through you.

In your words lived dignity, warmth,

and that rare closeness that made people fall silent and listen.

You left as gently as you lived.

Without grand words, without noise.

But you didn’t disappear — you became part of everything I love.

Part of me.

Sometimes I feel you near.

In the cat curled in my lap, in the dog’s gaze waiting by the door.

In the voice that guides me when I don’t know where to go.

They say time heals.

Perhaps.

But what you were — it doesn’t fade.

It stayed.

In the way I love, in the way I remain silent, in a gaze that still seeks kindness. Sometimes I write you letters.

No address, no stamp.

Only the heart knows where they go.

And I don’t cry as often now,

but when the wind stirs the curtains —

I know it’s you.

Your gentle spirit, your silence that embraces better.

Maja Milojković was born in Zaječar and divides her life between Serbia and Denmark. In Serbia, she serves as the deputy editor-in-chief at the publishing house Sfairos in Belgrade. She is also the founder and vice president of the Rtanj and Mesečev Poets’ Circle, which counts 800 members, and the editor-in-chief of the international e-magazine Area Felix, a bilingual Serbian-English publication. She writes literary reviews, and as a poet, she is represented in numerous domestic and international literary magazines, anthologies, and electronic media. Some of her poems are also available on the YouTube platform. Maja Milojković has won many international awards. She is an active member of various associations and organizations advocating for peace in the world, animal protection, and the fight against racism. She is the author of two books: Mesečev krug (Moon Circle) and Drveće Želje (Trees of Desire). She is one of the founders of the first mixed-gender club Area Felix from Zaječar, Serbia, and is currently a member of the same club. She is a member of the literary club Zlatno Pero from Knjaževac, and the association of writers and artists Gorski Vidici from Podgorica, Montenegro.