Why a young girl standing on her balcony shot on her head?
Why a child on the roof in the lap of her father on her birthday?
Why the passers-by and hundreds of people die on the agitation?
Why? The interrogation always hunts me with much depression.
Why the BTV (Bangladesh Television) Building, Metro Rail Station
And the Norsindi jail burnt and the prisoners flew away from the jail?
Why the internet service got off and later its service centre was burnt?
Why though the net connection repaired, the Facebook use still banned?
Who are the suffers most and who are the gainers-the play is still on the flow.
The commoners understand all, though the uppers realize little.
Human being is less important than the life of an ant, we confess or not.
Seen at home or abroad all the way wherever you run, can mark the same.
Through out all I must say I love you Bangladesh, I feel you much.
Though bloods falling on you, we mourn for them, our sweetest songs.
Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh
30 July, 2024.
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 sun, which has lost its summer power, barely shines, and it was not even warm. The coldness of the day moved to the heart of the old woman sitting in the corner of the yard. The heart of the old woman who lost her only child a few years ago was frozen, as if facing the ice. The old man, who could not keep silent about her condition, one day brought a white cow with red spots, which was very beautiful.
The old woman looked at the cow for a long time and approached it and started stroking it. As the days gave way to the months, the old woman loved the cow like her own child and did not stay away from her. The cow also gave white and delicious milk every day only for the old man and the old woman. The old woman was struggling with the cow, and the cow was listening to her.
Towards evening, dark clouds surrounded the gloomy sky. The sky was constantly roaring with grassy streaks. The old woman was upset and thought about her cow. After a sleepless night, she ran towards the corner of the yard. Except for her eyes, her face was white, her lips were trembling. There is no cow. The yard wall was broken, apparently the cow was stolen. The old woman was crying, and the old man ran to the street. No matter how hard he tried, he could not find the cow.
When he came home, the old woman was lying on the edge of the yard. The old man got scared and helped the old woman, the old woman was sobbing: «my child is in a bad condition», «he is not well». Hearing that the old woman was not well, the neighbor came out two days later to prepare a hearty, meaty meal. Then the old woman:
– Thank you so much. But I can’t have this food.
– Why?
– You said the other day that you and your children have not tasted salt for two days, that you are living in hunger, and that it is difficult to support a family without a husband. I do not want to eat their food. Give it to your children. I will be happy.
The neighbor, whose eyes were on the ground and her face was red, was sitting in silence, unable to open her mouth.
– «We have everything,» – she said without raising her head.
When the old woman said «Ok» and opened the food brought by the neighbor, her heart was pounding, and the tears in her eyes formed a stream on her face. In a trembling voice:
– «My child» – she said as she fell to the ground, seeing the meat of her cow, the death of her child, whom she lost a few years ago, was embodied before her eyes.
But this time she could not bear the separation…
Nosirova Gavhar was born on August 16, 2000 in the city of Shahrisabz, Kashkadarya region of Uzbekistan. Today, she is a third-year student of the Faculty of Philology of the Samarkand State University of Uzbekistan. Being a lover of literature, she is engaged in writing stories and poems. Her creative works have been published in Uzbek and English. In addition, she is a member of «All India Council for Development of Technical Skills», «Juntosporlasletras» of Argentina, «2DSA Global Community». Winner of the «Korablznaniy» and «TalentyRossii» contests, holder of the international C1 level in the Russian language, Global Education ambassador of Wisdom University and global coordinator of the Iqra Foundation in Uzbekistan. «Magic pen holders» talented young group of Uzbekistan, «KayvaKishor», «Friendship of people», «Raven Cage», «The Daily Global Nation», Argentina;s «Multi Art-6», Kenya’s «Serenity: A compilation of art and literature by women» contains creative works in the magazine and anthology of poets and writers.
Threshold line that will, somehow, humanity define
Humanity defined, as from heavenly God divine
From heavenly God, by a line drawn thinly fine
What is it that distinguished God from man?
Man designed from God’s image as human
Human, that for his sin, from heaven did ban
Ban. yet a salvation for us all, God did plan
If we were truly from God’s image formed
Formed, why now our souls became deformed?
Deformed, when pride in worldly egos stormed
Stormed, as arrogance in our hearts wormed
From a tiny single atom, we were all born
Born, yet our brothers and sisters, we scorn
Scorn and abused, until the cords were torn
Torn from promise of salvation we were sworn
Why must we, hatred and violence in others fan?
Fan the flames of greed and sufferings of man
Man, that is born alone and without a clan
A clan that divides, though You and I are One
Am I prepared to cross over the threshold line?
Threshold line that somehow, my humanity will define
Humanity defined, for my heavenly God divine
My heavenly God, who opened a door so fine
Dark Cloud
When stars are unseen
And nights are cold
Hearts may go frozen
Unheard phrases told
Winds howl loud, unruly
Silencing nature’s beauty
Old trees watch with pity
Drowned stalks of lily
Moon hidden behind dark cloud
No strength to protect her stars
Dawn creeps to end cruel wars
Sun rises, mighty and proud
Peace surrounds the mountain
Yet frogs, fish corpses ferment
What has earth at night gain?
Free compost, all decent
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.
I’ve discovered no place in the city broader than Five Mile.
He declared:
I used to visit there night and day,
When sun and moon were locked in intimate embrace.
Then they quarreled.
2
The Gulf’s water was sweet,
Each ship would unload its cargo,
And crew members enjoyed a bite of an apple
And some honey.
The women were radiant;
So men’s necks swiveled each time ladies’ shadows
Moved beneath the palms’ fronds.
These women needed no adornment;
One look sufficed to coax you to cling to life,
But their purses catered to beauty.
* * * * * *
Snipers
Infantrymen
Sailors
Bedded gems, emeralds.
Their souls persuaded each of them to gaze at these belles
And to break as humbly as waves at their feet.
Worldly men cast their ancestors’ laws from their backs
And set off to draw eyes on the ports’ gates.
Beneath each window
Slumbered a witness to a lover crucified by love
But who died singing
Before you hear the rumble of trains.
3
Cooing laughter calms your spirit.
You shan’t be chided for helping yourself to a whisper.
That man told me everything lipstick confided to him,
Urging him to reveal it!
* * * * * *
This was before the city donned black
To the end of its rivers;
Before crows’ caws blended with blood’s color over our dawns,
Before our streets bedded down early like Mukruk hens.
Women have stripped off their beauty,
Their spirits are embittered,
Their lips are cracked,
And you won’t find even the last stub of
Lipstick in their purses.
By Faleeha Hassan
Translated by William Hutchins
Faleeha Hassan is a poet, teacher, editor, writer, and playwright born in Najaf, Iraq, in 1967, who now lives in the United States. Faleeha was the first woman to write poetry for children in Iraq. She received her master’s degree in Arabic literature, and has now published 26 books, her poems have been translated into English, Turkmen, Bosnian, Indian, French, Italian, German, Kurdish, Spain, Korean, Greek, Serbia, Albanian, Pakistani, Romanian, Malayalam, Chinese, ODIA, Nepali and Macedonian language. She is a Pulitzer Prize Nominee for 2018, and a Pushcart Prize Nominee for 2019. She’s a member of the International Writers and Artists Association. Winner of the Women of Excellence Inspiration award from SJ magazine 2020, and the Winner of the Grand Jury Award (the Sahitto International Award for Literature 2021). She served on the Women of Excellence selection committees for 2023, was a winner of a Women In The Arts award in 2023 and a Member of Who’s Who in America 2023. She’s on the Sahitto Award’s judging panel for 2023 and a cultural ambassador between Iraq and the US.
