They have banned GMOs in some places and are feeding me pesticides in the corpses of fruits

They came to my home and said that war is my homeland

Who are they? They are trying to bring me to death with the agony of despair

They won’t let me die in peace

They don’t even let me have sex get AIDS and hang myself

According to journalists, freedom is the destiny of those who fight

According to politicians I can’t be free to choose sex and parties

Throat cut by pink triangle with stars of David

The corpses of black migrants constantly float up in the clouds

The impotent importance of my house swells and will not burst

Europe falls asleep drunk on cheap alcohol with cocaine tears stuck to a torn cheek

No one wanted to fuck the hairy ass

The apartment is soaked with lonely sperm

He moved like a snake that saw a cute bunny

But everything around me was lonely

His long hair stuck to his sweaty shoulders

He stroked his buttock and looked out the window

You could see the whole yard through the glass

For example lovers were blatantly kissing near the entrance

Meanwhile the lights in the apartment went out

Out forever

I want to get burned by your hot dick and have everything around burn in the dark

every time I take my breath away at the sight of your lips and as before I want to kiss your cloud of body

the stars are spying on us but we are still at a distance from each other

the metal of your eyelashes hides your eyes and I’m trying to understand what’s hidden in your gaze

I’m waiting for a call I’m waiting for a look I’m waiting for a text message I’m waiting for a dick pic

meanwhile the years pass and I grow my roots into the grave soil

the house turns into a stomach that digest me

the burger blood of my body spreads across the parquet of time

I’m waiting for your arrival to me and your sweet words (I don’t even wait for intimacy or love anymore)

I sacrifice the silence of my home to you but you are silent

The river stays constant

Ophelia isn’t here anymore

There is no more poetry

I give you silence but you scream

the blade is in my hands for sure but you are very confused

I’m cutting your throat like bread

I need to feed on something other than hate

the sky above is blue like no one died

JERNAIL S. ANAND: THE MASTER OF MYTH CREATION

“Craza, a bold evolution from Lustus”

Dr Maja Herman Sekulic

Dr. Jernail Singh Anand is a towering literary figure whose work [an opus of 180 books] embodies a rare fusion of creativity, intellect, and moral vision. Anand won the Seneca Award [Italy], Charter of Morava [Serbia], Franz Kafka [Germany, Ukraine and Chek Rep.] and Maxim Gorky [Russia]. His name adorns the Poets’ Rock in Serbia and stands tall as the greatest philosopher among poets, and the greatest poet among philosophers.  Dr. Anand’s grandiose work ‘Epicasia’ [June 2025], includes twelve epic narratives, which was dedicated to “the Land of Serbia and its brilliant daughter Dr Maja Herman Sekulic” [the author].  

The creation of neo-mythological characters like Lustus and now Craza in The Alternate Universe establishes Dr. Anand  as a master of myth creation, blending traditional epic forms with modern existential, philosophical, and socio-political concerns, and resonates with both Eastern and Western literary traditions.  Traditional mythology served to explain natural phenomena through divine or heroic figures. But Anand’s Neo-mythology brings up new archetypes to address contemporary concerns such as moral erosion, the rise of artificial intelligence and corporate evil.

According to Grok, Dr. Anand’s The Alternate Universe is an audacious and thought-provoking epic that masterfully intertwines science fiction, technology, and spirituality to explore the existential crises facing humanity in an AI-driven era. As his 13th epic, this work showcases Anand’s ability to weave a complex narrative that challenges conventional boundaries between the divine, the human, and the technological. The epic is both a speculative vision of a re-engineered humanity and a philosophical critique of mankind’s moral and spiritual decay, making it a significant contribution to contemporary literature. It is intriguing to enter into Anand’s mind through his epics. The entire space is occupied by ethereal personages like God, Brahma, Indra, Vishnu, Lord Krishna, Satan, Mephistopheles, Faustus etc. And, the atmosphere is marked by high seriousness, and a sense of the sublime.

Dr. Anand was reluctant to cast Satan as the villain in ‘Lustus: the Prince of Darkness’ the first book of his Mahakaal Trilogy,  as Satan was a gentleman villain, who was afraid of God’s power. He tempted Eve by deception. Anand, on the other hand,  needed a thorough-bred villain of modern world, who could sustain interest for generations. Therefore, in Lustus,  Anand created a villain before whom even Satan appears a monk. Anand also creates Greda, the goddess of Greed. The grandeur of Lustus lies in two fierce battles he fought and lost against gods in the first two books of the Trilogy, Lustus and the Dominion of the Netherworld.  Dr. Anand’s quest for the sublime continues through The Ultronic Age, where political power is handed over to Queen Ultronia,   because  Gods had realized that it was due to the patriarchal superiority of men that the previous epochs saw bloody battles and manslaughter as we come across in the Ramayana in Treta, the Mahabharata in Dwapra and the War of Troy in Kaliyuga.

In The Alternate Universe, Craza proposes an AI-driven Alternate Universe where humans are digitally enhanced.  Craza’s concepts of removing the past of man, womb labs, and keeping humanity morally upright with AI intervention, and the provision for ‘Edit’ etc.  are daringly forward looking, investing technology with a spiritual responsibility and making Craza a Neo-Prophet of the Digital Age.

Dr. Anand’s latest work grapples with the intersection of technology, spirituality, and human existence. Craza, represents a bold evolution from Lustus, who was an embodiment of corporate  evil. “Anand’s work reflects a profound engagement with the ethical and spiritual challenges posed by artificial intelligence (AI) and modernity, making him a modern counterpart to epic poets like Milton or Vyasa, but with a distinctly futuristic lens.” [Grok]

Craza’s proposal for an “Overlap” facility, replacing the traditional divisions of heaven and hell, can be seen as a nuanced view of morality where ambiguity is acknowledged rather than punished because this world of overlapping morality is closer to the reality of the modern world of technology. Through Lustus, he critiques the corporate and moral decay of the modern world, while Craza in The Alternate Universe  extends this exploration into speculative or chaotic realms. By merging Eastern and Western traditions, Anand creates a universal narrative offers an ethical and spiritual landscape for a contrivance like AI to seek man’s salvation, rather than work for his destruction. Craza’s entry as a potential mouthpiece of the AI is a welcome departure from usual condemnation of the AI. His work not only revives the epic form but also establishes him as a global literary figure, walking in the footsteps of Milton, Goethe and Tagore.  

AUTHOR’S BIO 

Maja Herman-Sekulić  (Serbia/USA) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maja_Herman_Sekulić)

is an internationally published Serbian-American author of 30 books in Serbian, English German and French; her poems were translated in 27 languages. Of her poetry, Nobel laureate Joseph Brodsky said: “her poetry is of the rarest talent and beauty as she is herself”. Maja is an acclaimed and multi awarded poet, novelist, essayist, a bilingual scholar, a Princeton Ph.D.and a major translator. She is a vice president of International Ethics Academy from India,and has been nominated by the IAE for the Nobel Prize in Literature. She is a member of the American and Serbian PEN, American Academy of Poets, Association of writers of Serbia and Serbian Literary Society. She was schooled and lived all over the world from Europe and USA to the Far East, and as a triple ambassador of good will, culture and literature has been building bridges between cultures for over 30 yrs. She now shares her time between New York and Belgrade. 

A New Day

After a long day

Full of burdens and responsibilities

Setting fire,

Collecting wood,

Carrying water

And searching for food.

Finally, the night comes for rest

I sit on my broken sofa

In my smashed balcony

With my cactus and the little mints 

There is no light outside, and darkness is  like a black hole

So deep and hollow hearted

Fire flames arise from that destroyed home

Someone is preparing dinner 

And the  sound  of  a crying baby for milk

Comes from the horizon.

The gloom stars appear in the clear sky

As the souls of the martyrs fly so far

And the timid moon hides

Like the killed child drenched with his blood

The ghosts of the demolished homes scream, ” Don’t be afraid, we’re not humans.”

The sea waves play

melancholic tunes

Recalling my  absent reminiscence

My weary mind hallucinates

With absurd words to write a poem

My fatigued body whispers

With sorrow and pain

“Sweet dreams among the rubble and ghosts”

Then my eyes closed like a gate of a prison

It arrests my suffering, sorrow, distress, toil, oppression, and pain for a new day.

Ahmed Miqdad, Palestinian poet, Activist

I am Kuziyeva Shahrizoda, a Master’s student at Urgench State University named after Abu Rayhan Beruni. Thanks to the unwavering support of our honorable President and the incredible opportunities being created for us young people, we are now reaching great heights. Among the youth who are achieving success, I too have had the honor of receiving several notable achievements. For instance, I have been awarded the prestigious state scholarships named after Alisher Navoi and Islam Karimov, and I was recommended for a Master’s degree program with special privileges.

My academic and creative works are now being published in countries such as India, South Korea, China, Saudi Arabia, Morocco, Turkey, Argentina, and Spain. This is a clear testament to the fact that the voices of Uzbek youth are spreading across the globe—and that no obstacle can limit us. All of this is possible because of our President’s deep trust in young people. It is that trust that gives us the courage to express our ideas freely and confidently, without fear or hesitation.

Moreover, under the President’s “Five Important Initiatives,” we launched a social project dedicated to promoting reading, called “For the Nation.” We transformed this initiative into a digital platform. Today, through this project, nearly 500 young people have genuinely fallen in love with books and are reading them together with their families and parents. As one of the proud youth of New Uzbekistan, I can confidently say this: if a young person has passion in their heart, determination in their step, and a clear goal ahead—nothing is impossible. Success is within reach for those who truly strive.

Where else in the world can you find a country that entrusts its entire future to the hands of its youth? Where else can you see young people not only developing a love for literature but also buying cars for their parents out of gratitude and pride? In what other land are youth offered interest-free loans to start their own businesses? All these opportunities exist solely for the benefit of young people. Didn’t our President once say, “The future of Uzbekistan is in the hands of its youth”? We—the youth—are his strongest army. In a time when everything revolves around young people, it is our duty to respond to these boundless opportunities with knowledge, ambition, and great achievements.

As long as we have the strong support of our President, the voice of New Uzbekistan’s youth will continue to ring out loud and proud across the world. Those who possess their own voice, their own convictions—without a doubt—are the children of an independent nation, a nation proud of its heritage.

Taking this moment on the occasion of Youth Day, I sincerely congratulate all the young people of Uzbekistan. And to everyone who carries the spirit, the joy, the energy, and the purity of youth in their hearts—Happy Holiday! May your steps be firm, your voice be strong, your knowledge be abundant, and may your path always be as wide and smooth as your dreams! When you conquer the highest peaks, may the eyes of your parents shine with pride and happiness.

Indeed:

We, the youth, are the future of our land,
Let us stand guard, a shield in our hand.
Come, peers, let us read and explore,
And build a fortress of knowledge at the core!

Kuziyeva Shakhrizoda was born on January 1, 2000, in the Khorezm region. By the order of the Minister of Higher and Secondary Specialized Education, she was awarded the Alisher Navoiy State Scholarship in the 2022-2023 academic year and the Islam Karimov State Scholarship in the 2023-2024 academic year. She was recommended for a master’s degree twice on a preferential basis. In addition, she won the “Youngest Scientist-2021” competition among CIS countries and was recognized as the “Youngest Female Scholar” at the age of 21.

Elam’s Bow

Elam’s bow is broken,

God knows what’s next to come,

Other wars will follow.

Hate is a raging fire,

With never ending fuel,

It burns here,

Flares up there,

Never fully quenched.

Hate is a dead man walking,

Love is a river of life.

Forsake the tomb,

Quench the fire,

Eat from the tree of life.

Bruce  Mundhenke writes poetry and short fiction. He has worked in this life as a laborer and a registered nurse.

Beware the Green Creatures in River Boots                      (270 words)

Beware the green creatures in river boots; you cannot sleep here beware! Beware! Beware the green creatures in river boots; you still cannot sleep here beware! Beware! Beware the green creatures in river boots; you still cannot sleep here beware! Beware! why should you be allowed why should this be allowed when you prove in each moment again and again you have no idea of how to obey [^{but beware the green creatures in river boots; you still cannot sleep here beware! Beware!}] why should you be allowed why should this be allowed when you prove in each moment again and again you have no idea of how to obey timpa timpa [_{but beware the green creatures} you still cannot sleep here _{in river boots; you still cannot sleep here beware! Beware}^!] timpani timpani timpani  ^{why should you} you still cannot sleep here  ^{be allowed} boom boom boom  ^{why should this be allowed when you prove} you still cannot _{still cannot} ^{still cannot} sleep here ^{in each momen} [Shout Proust!] ^{again and again you have no idea of how to obey} hit the damned timpani timpani timp timp timp timpani _{but beware the green creatures in river boots; you still cannot sleep here}  boom _beware boom_{! Beware}^! boom boom boom boom ] _{why should you be allowed why should this be allowed when you}  the cleanliness of the over-hosing system would become a prime factor later in this tragedy  _{prove in each moment again and again you have no idea of how to obey} [_{but beware the green creatures in river boots; you still cannot sleep here beware! Beware}^!]    

REVERSE METAMORPHOSIS

And when you say you first had reason

to thank your body for willful treason?

Or did you mourn that other, that butterfly,

when — without so much as notice or even sigh —

it abandoned its old miraculous flight,

its perfect poise, its gtrat spot above prospect or plight,

and in cocoon reverted again, in sudden fear

of losing all touch with all that should be dear?

FOUR-BODY SOLUTIONS

[C’est avec logique que nous prouvons et avec l’intuition que nous trouvons. – Henri Poincaré

Indeed, it’s by logic that we prove,

by intuition we discover.

To know how to criticize is good,

to know how to create is better,]

Logic. Intuition. And the third

magus offers imagination.

A poetry evolves from a word

by multiplying its dimensions.

Inspiration is the lightning flash

that unshadows sudden eternals

that had been hidden among the trash.

So the fourth horseman is external.

The interaction may be lonely.

Results may be humble as the wedge

or intricate as a symphony.

They may be ignored or widely judged.

The foursome is not always fertile

and indeed may compose a monster,

but their intimacy unriddles

the real and helps edge us onward.

PRE CURSOR POST

Blossom is the baptist

to a fruit called a christ.

Though definitely not moot,

the leaf is not the tree,

nor the branch, nor the root.

The It, not-yet datum,

exists beyond atom

and happens before eve.

The tree has origins

at the Where/When it ends.

MENOLOGION

(13 Oct, 16 Jul)

My band played polkas and jazzes

and I soloed on the cymbals,

but then I discovered Jesus

and confined myself to hymnals.

Because Edward the Confessor

presides over painful marriage,

I keep my saint on my dresser

to invigorate my courage.

Supported by my wife’s symbol,

I beg from my purgatory.

O, Our Lady of Mount Carmel,

extricate me from my fury.

My old musics live in my feet

and they animate my fingers.

Lord, amputate the Devil’s beats,

forever silence the dingers.

HERE, AFTER

Unless there is a somethingness

I won’t even see the black black black

…