Poetry from J.K. Durick

AI

Give me a topic

We’ll build from there

Put in the words

Just the topic

And then we’ll wait.

It’s the waiting

That’s tough.

We remember back

Back to when

We had to carry on

On our own.

Had to come up with

Ideas that fit

Linked together

And made the point

We needed to make.

School became easier

Once AI arrived.

We barely need

Teachers or libraries.

Everything is taken on

Taken care of.

Give us an assignment

And it’s done

As well as it can be

By a machine and brains

That are no longer ours.

               Watering

Early this morning I heard my Donna

Outside dragging the hose, setting up

The sprinkler near the back garden.

She turned on the water and set her

Timer. This is what’s necessary these

Days – mid-summer heat with no rain

In the forecast. We try our best to get

Ahead, water the various gardens we

Foolishly planted, thinking that nature

Would take care of itself this time, such

Odd certainty based on so little. Nature

Or whatever we call it rarely cooperates

These days. Other parts of the country

Are being flooded, others are burning up

Causing the haze we experience, haze

That they warn us to avoid. We should

Limit outdoor activities, but how would

Our gardens survive without my wife being

Out there setting up the sprinklers and

Setting up her timer. How long will this all

Take? How much water will it take? What

Will we do if this drought turns official and

We are told to limit watering? When will

This all end? My wife just moved it all out

Front – those gardens need her too.

                Invasive

The urge to take over, to control

Is in them. They entangle, cross

Over, link themselves, tie them-

Selves. This is an invasive vine

One that needs more room and

Takes it wherever it can. Left to

Their own devices they begin to

Choke out the other plants, ferns

Fall easy victims, even hydrangea

Can’t keep up with them. This vine

Will even go after pine trees, ours

Is being tangled, strangled by it.

Once a year we try to fight back. I

Remember being out there last

Year thinking we were finally getting

The upper hand. But here we are

Again this year waging our side of

The endless war against an invasive

Vine that probably knows that we

Will declare yet another temporary

Win, and leave off – and it will start

Over testing us, waging guerilla warfare

Till it sees we turn our backs and

Then it’s back to a full invasion, D-Day

Along the fence and back into our

Back yard.

Short story from Bill Tope and Doug Hawley

Previously appeared in Romance Buds, and Butterflies


Asha sashayed across the London tavern floor, looking every bit the exotic, strikingly beautiful Indian ex-pat. As she walked, men turned on their barstools to regard her, thinking, I’d like some of that. But Asha was not available, at least not to them.


Ignoring the others, she stopped at a table in the center of the saloon, where sat an 80-ish man, gray at the temples, and with a slight tremor in his hands. He seized his cane and made to stand up, but Asha held up her hand to stop him.
“Don’t get up, Ari,” she said, taking a seat by his side.


Across the tavern, covetous men shook their heads, bewildered at Asha’s choice.
“Have you been waiting long?” she asked.
Ari shook his head no. He seemed to have difficulty speaking.


Suddenly Asha moved, leaning into Ari and throwing her arms about him and kissing him affectionately on the cheek. She squeezed him tight.
The spectators in the bar rolled their eyes and tossed back their drinks, puzzled by the apparent attraction of the old man to the stunning woman.


“What’s that all about, Fahey?” a large, attractive man dressed in the garb of a construction worker asked the bartender.
Fahey said, “I can’t say for sure where it began, Mike, but I’ve heard rumors from those that know one or the other of them. Ari was an upper class Brit in the colonial days. Some of them were right bastards but he was one of the good ones. He did what he could to help the locals. Asha’s family was quite poor, but Ari got her father a good job as a government bureaucrat. Got a good paycheck for signing papers, and making low-level decisions. As a result, Asha’s family and Ari’s socialized a lot. Asha’s family learned about Britain, and Ari’s family learned about India. When they first started socializing Asha was two years old, and Ari was a forty-year-old man with a wife the same age.”


“How old is she now?” inquired Mike.
Fahey shrugged. “Around 40? Anything else you want to know?” he asked archly.
The irony of the remark was lost on the other man. “Is she involved with the old man, or is she a…free agent?”


“My man,” said Fahey, with a knowing grin, “nothing in this life is free.”
“How about you introduce us?” asked Mike.
Fahey began to wipe down the bar. “You’re a little late,” he said.
“You mean…” began Mike.


Fahey nodded. “They’re married.” When Mike looked lost, the bartender continued, “Ari lived in India until about ten years ago, when he began to get dementia. Ari’s wife, Mabel, moved them back to London to their old home so he’d be in more familiar surroundings. About five years ago, his wife became terminal and she contacted Asha and she came to the city almost immediately. She moved in with them and took care of them both. Then, a year ago, when Mabel died, Asha and Ari got married so that it was acceptable for the culture for them to live together. You understand?


Mike did understand, and gazed with compassion and admiration across the tavern at a true love story.

                                                                   

Poetry from Mesfakus Salahin

South Asian man with reading glasses and red shoulder length hair. He's got a red collared shirt on.
Mesfakus Salahin

Mritiqa

‎Mritiqa, can you walk?

‎From one heart to another.

‎Can you arrange emotions?

‎in the heart of a boring world.

‎Can you paint with the colors of the sun?

‎The hungry stomach of the sea that has been thrown up.

‎Can you  play the flute of Hamilto?

‎In the cursed city gathered on the forehead.

‎Can you make a walking path?

‎In the unnecessary glands.

‎Can you read?

‎The silent call.

‎Can you absorb?

‎The red tears that tore my heaven.

‎Can you make me

‎a dreamy musical piece

‎Come and slowly touch

‎My final twilight.

‎Look at this vast sea of people

‎Silent in the half-darkness and the crushing darkness.

‎The fields, the mountains, the valleys, the springs are oppressed

‎Dead winter, dead spring.

‎The dead emotions of living people walk around

‎On the path flowing past the grave.

‎Candles do not illuminate the grave of the heart

‎Immortal death on the edge of the sleepless night

‎I return to you in deep sorrow

‎Leaving my hometown to the forest.

‎All pain fades away in an instant

‎In the cage of your innocent chest.

‎I like to do in search of you

‎In the form of the wind.

‎Embrace me once in both arms

‎The beginning of a bright new day

‎Cast anchor in the song of the primeval night

‎Where civilization sprouts from seeds

‎My fire pit – eager for freedom

‎In the united march of free living

Poetry from Gloria Ameh

My Confessional

Let this page be my confessional & these metaphors my prayer 

for I have sinned in silence too long

my tongue dressed in the mourning clothes of vowels

Words are the daggers I sheathe in beauty

each blade learning to masquerade as a rose

Every poem a breath stolen from despair

a blackbird in my throat rehearsing the opera of grief

until my chest becomes a stage

The pen is a restless pilgrim

wandering the parchment like a fevered exile

its footsteps blistered into the whiteness

searching for an altar

where absolution sleeps beneath a veil of dust

The past is a poet & I am its recurring metaphor

a line break abandoned mid‑sentence

a chorus stitched from yesterday’s ash

Our Confessional

I have learned my grief is just a translation

of the grief cities carry when they collapse into themselves

Every cracked street is a broken rib

& somewhere the earth flinches in my exact shape

In my circadian cycle I battle pain like a front soldier 

bayonet sharpened on the moon’s bone

sleep a trench I never climb out of

my shadow hauling the wounded daylight back into my skull

The wound in me is the wound in the river

the wound in the river is the wound in the sea

& the sea has been weeping long before my name was born

We drink from the chalice of tomorrow

while today still burns on our tongue.

My father’s warning walks beside me like a second spine

if you walk the path of a fool you will bear the consequences

& the road will bend to whisper them into your ankles

I dream of freedom the way continents dream of drifting back together 

as if loneliness is the first geography we all learn

And so I drag my shadow through the corridors of my own body

searching for a window wide enough for my wounds to leap from

Some nights the pen turns executioner

chiseling my ribs into confessionals

& I write until the page becomes a mirror

where ruin learns to call itself by my name

Eva Petropoulou Lianou reviews Turkia Loucif’s novel The Legend of a Squirrel

Young middle aged Arab woman with a pink headscarf and flowered blouse standing under a tree on a sunny day holding a copy of her book with the head of an old king and a squirrel side by side.

“Myth, Symbolism, and Patriotism: An Exploration of Turkia Loucif’s The Legend of a Squirrel”

The novel “The Legend of a Squirrel” by Turkia Loucif is a captivating literary work that draws inspiration from mythological and symbolic heritage to present a national vision. The story revolves around a conflict between good and evil, with the squirrel representing friendly peoples who helped Algeria in its revolution against French occupation. The castle symbolizes the homeland, while the faeries represent evil forces seeking to take control.

The novel explores themes of patriotism, sacrifice, and the struggle for power, with a unique blend of fantasy and reality. The author’s use of symbolism and mythological elements adds depth and complexity to the narrative, making it accessible to a wide range of readers.

The translation of the novel into English by Ahmed Farouk Beydoun and the Albanian proofreader Kujtim Hajdari has made it possible for a global audience to experience the story. The novel’s success is evident in its bestseller status at exhibitions held in Algeria, and its translation marks an important step in the author’s literary career.

Dr. Mohamed Bashir Bouijra’s critical review highlights the novel’s artistic and literary merits, noting its unique blend of fantasy and social commentary. The review also praises the author’s use of language, which is both accessible and engaging.

As the linguistic reviewer of this novel, Kujtim Hajdari notes that Turkia Loucif’s writing style is characterized by its clarity, precision, and mastery of the Arabic language. Her use of vocabulary is rich and nuanced, and her sentences are structured in a way that is both logical and aesthetically pleasing. The novel’s themes of social justice, power, and the human condition are timely and thought-provoking, and Loucif’s exploration of these themes is both nuanced and insightful.

Essay from To’raqulova Pokiza Sanjarovna

Central Asian woman with sunglasses, a tee shirt, a black purse and blue jeans in front of buildings with big semicircular windows and trees and grass and a road.

I graduated from school with excellent grades. Currently, I am a 3rd year student at Termez University of Economics and Service. I have more than 10 articles. I am the owner of the “Rector’s Scholarship” for the 2024-2025 academic year. I have participated in various competitions. In January, I actively participated in Shokhida Yusupova’s “Shine with Shokhida” 5-day marathon and was awarded a certificate. In June, I went on a trip to Indonesia with our University. On July 27, I was awarded a certificate for my successful participation in the master class on the topic “Empower, Educate, Elevate!” organized on the occasion of the 3rd anniversary of the Shine Girls’ Academy.

“My philosophy of life or what speech do you see yourself giving in 10 years?”

Abstract: Dreams, my schedule, my expenses, my family, me in 10 years.

People have endless dreams and aspirations, and people live striving for their dreams. Just like everyone has their own dreams, one of my dreams is to travel to many countries, walk along the seashore, create my own small library, become an accomplished expert in my profession, have my own home and car, have my favorite wardrobe and be with my loved ones. Philosophy of life is a philosophical movement that studies and interprets the problems of the meaning, purpose, and value of life. Life is an integral whole that is primarily reality, and then divided into spirituality and materiality, consciousness and being.

Life is the main concept of the Philosophy of Life. The Philosophy of Life seeks to understand the essence of life in itself. It glorifies feelings and instincts, criticizes and denies reason. According to supporters of the Philosophy of Life, the concept of life is complex, multifaceted, and does not have its own clear interpretation. Creativity, especially artistic creativity, is extremely important for the Philosophy of Life, it is even life itself. At this point, the Philosophy of Life approaches non-rational intuitionism, its theory of knowledge. For example, the fact that the dynamics of life, the individual nature of a thing-event cannot be expressed in general concepts, but can be understood directly, through intuition, is characteristic of both trends.

The Philosophy of Life sees a sharp difference in the approach of science and philosophy to the world. Science seeks to master and subjugate the world, while philosophy is characterized by observation, and in this feature it is close to art. Reason is by its nature disconnected from life; intellectual knowledge and the science based on it can comprehend not things, but only the relationships between things. Rational knowledge is aimed at satisfying purely practical interests, at useful expediency. Non-intellectual, intuitive, figurative-symbolic methods of comprehending life are opposed to scientific knowledge. A work of art, especially poetry and music, is a means of understanding and relatively accurately expressing life. Life is interesting, it tests us all with various tests and rewards. The true essence of our life is to do good and strive for enlightenment.

The ideas of humanism have been around for centuries is being promoted, examples of this are countless like raindrops. Recently, I witnessed an incident, a mother who was walking her child on the street nervously looked at a special trans worker on the street and said to her child: “If you don’t get an education and study well, your life will be miserable like that trans worker.” Hearing this, I had to join their conversation, “Excuse me, if your child gets a good education, he will help those in such professions, he will take society out of the stream of poverty, after all, they say that education is a vaccine against ignorance,” I ended my speech by saying. Today we have changed, today our souls have been renewed, and our bodies are free like clouds, but our hearts are still alone in the darkness of darkness.

Most parents themselves do not instill universal human values in their children from childhood, and in the genetics of the future, the level of contempt for lower-class people, materialism, and an empathetic approach will continue to expand in regressive generations. Education is a gem that is instilled not by control, but by example. Many people ask me, “What is your biggest dream?” Do you have any dreams or goals? Yes, they do. Some want to live in high-rise buildings and buy expensive cars, some strive for career advancement, and still others are in the process of renewing their tattered clothes, getting rid of the scourge of helplessness, and finding food for today. Today, we are becoming creatures of the world of egoism. The phrase “I” is scattered like small fish swimming in the ocean. Don’t rush, I know the thought that came to your mind while reading me, this life is given only once, people should live only for themselves, life is a place of pleasure, not a time to think about others.

A person will never stop dreaming as long as they live. For this, you need to work and ask God and have a little patience. Nowadays, many people do not know how to be grateful. They always complain, “I can’t do it, I don’t have money, and so on.” What does a person look like if he doesn’t work or try? I always like to be in motion and work on myself. I’m already moving for my future. If I don’t work now, it may be too late. This has been discussed in many books. Nowadays, I write down my daily schedule for myself. I hate waking up at different times every day. This is one of my principles. I always wake up at 6 o’clock. Then I spend 30 minutes on some work. After having a family breakfast, I go to my preparatory courses. After my preparatory course, I come home, have lunch, and then head to the university. My classes start at 1:00 PM, and

It ends at 17:30. After class, my classmates and I go to a cafe and chat a little before heading home. When I get home, I start cooking dinner and prepare for my university and course lessons. After that, we have a family dinner, we chat a little and have dessert. I think this is a great feeling for me. My expenses, my current source of income is my parents, and I get money from them for all my expenses. My expenses are not very high.

It would not be an exaggeration to say that in 2025, I achieved a lot. In April 2025, I became the owner of the “Rector’s Scholarship”. This was great news for me. Of course, it was not easy to achieve this, but I did it. After that, I was awarded a certificate for my successful participation in the “Shine with Shokhida” 100-day project of Shokhida Yusupova, a famous woman and girl. This was another dream of mine. I also write articles and currently have more than 10 articles. A person should never stop. My motto in life is “Don’t stop”.

To’raqulova Pokiza Sanjarovna was born in 2006 in the city of Termez, Surkhandarya region.

Essay from Abdisattorova Hurshida

Central Asian young woman with dark hair and a blue coat over a white collared shirt.

WHEN DREAMS SPREAD THEIR WINGS

Abdulbosit Abdullayev started practicing taekwondo from his childhood. However, after about eight years, he said goodbye to this sport. There is a saying, “A father gives life, a coach teaches how to live.” Because, at the wish of his parents, he tried himself in the military field. Under the guidance of his coach Otabek Qurbanov, he began practicing the sport of firefighters and rescuers. His love for sports eventually prevailed. From the age of seventeen, he began participating in competitions and started achieving good results. When he began to achieve significant success even among adults, self-confidence appeared in him.

“To achieve success, I had to overcome many obstacles. At the age of twenty, I broke my leg. I lay in a cast for forty-three days. I really suffered. My parents said, ‘Son, take care of your health.’ I myself almost decided to quit sports. But after all my efforts, struggles, and hardships, giving up just like that felt too painful,” says the hero of our article.

“No, I must be strong,” he says in our interview, “and that inner feeling brought me back to sports.”

In 2022, at the World Championship held in Samarkand, he achieved 3rd place in the overall team ranking. In 2023, his name was proudly written into the golden pages of history with beautiful memories as one of the winners of the first place among nearly 20 countries in the fire-applied sport of firefighters held in Istanbul, Turkey. Of course, such achievements cannot be reached easily. Under the guidance of his coaches – Umid Bolibekov, Khurshid Abdullayev, Sanjar Tajibayev, and Otabek Qurbanov – we worked for hours day and night in training. Sometimes, while overcoming obstacles, there were falls, broken hands and legs, and injuries. In any situation, speed is required. Labor leads a person to happiness, and profession to success,” said our interviewee.

His professional career is also interesting. From 2017 to 2022, he began working as an instructor at the IIB YOXBB of Buston district. From 2022 to 2024, he worked as a junior sergeant in the 6-YOQQ fire rescue unit of the Asaka district FVB. Since January 13, 2024, he has been transferred to the Communication Department of the Andijan Regional Emergency Situations Department.

Becoming a master of any skill or profession is one of the greatest achievements in life. To be knowledgeable, a person must also research. Abdulbosit Rahmonov graduated from Andijan State University, majoring in Physical Culture.

For the 2024 World Championship to be held in China, only 10 athletes were selected from more than 30 children during the training process. It was pleasing that Abdulbosit Abdullayev was among them. More than 20 countries participated in the World Championship held in China. Our team achieved 4th place in the fire rescue sport. Abdulbosit updated Uzbekistan’s national record in the 100-meter obstacle race with a result of 15.48 seconds.

Of course, the opponents were strong: Belarus, Kazakhstan, Russia. Especially China is making great progress. May Abdulbosit’s successful journey continue! We wish him luck and victory in raising our flag even higher in competitions.

Abdisattorova Hurshida Suvon qizi was born on November 9, 1997, in the village of Olmazor, Chirakchi district, Kashkadarya region. She is currently a third-year student of Sports Journalism at the University of Journalism and Mass Communications.

Her articles have been published in the newspapers Hurriyat and Vaziyat, as well as on the websites Olamsport and Ishonch. She is also a participant of the international scientific-practical conference titled “Future Scientist – 2025.”