racing to the bathroom

arthritis, a bad back, old bones

not the recipe for racing to the

bathroom to always be successful

and nothing says life like scooping

shit out of underwear and deciding

wash or put in the trash

a ratio determined by holes and

the waistband

the problem with shitting in boxers

is the debris is never contained

thankfully, this doesn’t happen

that often to me

often enough though that my inner

child laughs and grabs pen and paper

———————————————————-

long conversations with lonely women

muscle relaxers and whiskey

must be a saturday night

remember when the liquor

would flow like wine jesus

made

i suppose i have closed

one too many bars in

my life

had long conversations

with lonely women

who obviously had better

choices than me

that isn’t sour grapes

just reality slapping the

shit taste out of my mouth

yet again

one of these nights

i hope to get so damn high

i forget the first thirty years

of my life

i figure such a conquest

will probably take a needle,

a spoon, a lighter and a little

luck finding a vein

————————————————————-

regardless

a beautiful woman

told me if i believed

in god, my mother

wouldn’t have so

many health problems

i chuckled

asked her if she used

daddy’s trust fund

to get those new

tits

she walked away

disgusted, i enjoyed

the view nonetheless

the tooth fairy is dead,

santa is on strike and

reality is dying by

the second

this world is on fire

and we are doing

nothing but whistling

in the graveyards

hope still exists in

some little corner

of this fragile mind

a soft beauty swears

she will rescue me

from all of this one

day

promises, promises

a fleeting echo of pain

we were all abused

by someone

regardless of wealth

or god or any existence

of sanity

———————————————————–

and what is never coming back

paralyzed with fear

every step a reminder

of what was lost

and what is never

coming back

no need to apologize

we will be dead soon

enough

i can hear you crying

yourself to sleep each

night

these are the nights

where i wish the pain

pills were better or these

drugs were actually strong

enough to take away

everything

didn’t think the majority

of my late forties was going

to be spent cleaning up shit

and piss in bathrooms

but alas

there is the life of a poet

knowing the roses grow

better in shit and learn to

enjoy the prick of every

thorn

———————————————————-

left behind to die

it starts as a dull ache

eventually, it overtakes

the body

there is no point in crying

prayer gets you nowhere

left behind to die

there is no other way

to sugarcoat this bullshit

broken bones

shattered soul

a lonesome saxophone

wails in the background

try to find a vein in the dark

there used to be this neon soul

that would wander in and out

of your life at the oddest times

that soul has left

just like the rest of them

another night to drown

your sorrows in a dry

county

i guess the bath salts

are what we have left

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is trapped in the suburbs, probably forever. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Disturb the Universe Magazine, The Beatnik Cowboy, Mad Swirl, Yellow Mama and Horror Sleaze Trash. You can find him most days taking care of his disabled mother, wondering which of them will die first. He has a blog, evil delights, he sometimes writes on, given a few free seconds here and there. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)

---

https://goodreads.com/jjthepoet

Interview with poet

Bahar Onen Buke

Conducted by Eva Petropoulou Lianou

Dear poet and author

1-Please share your thoughts about the future of literature.

When u start writing?

Bahar BÜKE: I have been interested in poems and writing poetry since I was a child.

Poetry is also like a brain gymnastics. It improves the ability to think about the harmony of words, descriptions, deep meanings and also empathy. It imposes compassion and love. Humanity really needs it. Therefore, the poem must spread quickly. It is necessary to especially encourage the new generation of young people. Words have power. There are some poems that are like advice. Some make it sad, some poetry gives hope. Therefore, poetry is the virtue of being human.

It is not possible to say anything clear about the future of literature, but there will definitely be those who serve literature after us as before us.

The presence of young writers and poets is very promising for the future of literature.

2- The good and the Bad.Who is winning in nowadays?

Bahar BÜKE: I know there are really strong pens that can’t make your voice heard.

It is my only wish that efforts are valued.

It takes a lot of effort for success. Let the success of the real workers, not the strong one..

3- How many books have you written.And where can we find your books

Bahar BÜKE: My poetry book called “The Woman in a Black Coat” is my first and only printed book. It is on sale on the sites of my publisher (Ange Publications) and all elite bookstores in Turkey, especially Amazon.

I’m preparing the second book. My file is almost ready, I’m waiting for the right time for the publication of my second book. I’m not in a hurry. Because my poems are already on newspapers, literature magazines and literature websites. It is often read by professional poetry interpreters on poetry radios.

4- The books E book or Hardcover book . What will be the future?

Bahar BÜKE: E-book is like a blessing of the digital age, but I still prefer to read by smelling books and turning the pages. Unfortunately, the economic fluctuation in the world also affects publishing houses and printing. This situation causes some writers/poets to prefer e-books.

5- A wish four 2025. A phrase from your book.

Bahar BÜKE: I hope poetry spreads to the souls of all the people of the world like a virus. It evokes emotions such as empathy, compassion, friendship and brotherhood.

It is a quote from my poem “The Woman in a Black Coat”, which I named my book: “The rain falls into the foggy, hazy streets of the dark city

And a woman in a black coat is alone on the streets

The wind caresses her hair on the sidewalk while walking

Tears are flowing from his eyes, he kisses his cheeks

Even if he erases it with his occasional trembling hands

His eyes are quite persistent…”

…” Every story has a soul. That soul is reached with the eye of the heart. Open the eyes of your heart, open it so that the world becomes beautiful, open it so that your world becomes beautiful”

Thank you so much

Bahar BÜKE: thank you very much.

Long live literature

Long live poetry

Long live art

Turkish writer/poet Bahar Önen BÜKE was born on March 6, 1984 in Balıkesir / Turkey. She is the author of the poem book “The Woman in the Black Coat”. She is published in many literature magazines and literature websites with her poems. At the same time, with her author identity, she meets the reader with his culture, art, literature and magazine news on news websites and printed newspapers. Author Bahar BÜKE, who said “Poetry is my way of life”, has recently been preparing for her second book. She continues to actively serve Turkish poetry literature.

‎The Flowerless Spring
‎
‎Oh spring!
‎Beloved spring! 
‎Don’t ask me without flowers
‎I and flowers are in the same vase
‎Believe me! Believe me!!
‎
‎Oh spring!
‎Dear spring!
‎Don’t love me without love
‎I and love are twins
‎Trust me! Trust me!!
‎
‎Oh spring!
‎Musical spring!
‎Don’t invite me without the tune of dream
‎I and tune live in heart
‎Stay here! Stay here!!
‎
‎Oh spring!
‎Sincere spring!
‎Come here with words of heart
‎Your words are my words
‎Make me dreamy! Make me dreamy!!
‎
‎Oh spring!
‎Caring spring!
‎Hold my time with silver moon
‎The moonlit nights are my pen’s verses
‎Give your hand!  Give your hand!!
‎
‎Oh spring!
‎The queen of love
‎l just miss you
‎I need you to compose a poem
‎Give me rain! Give me rainbow!!
‎
‎Oh spring!
‎Lovely spring!
‎Love is not in the rest
‎Hear the song of the rivers
‎Make me flowery! Make me flowery!!
‎
‎Oh spring!
‎Sweetest spring!
‎I need a tiny hut of poems
‎We will get lost there
‎To search the light of love.
‎Bless me! Bless me!!
‎
‎

_Nature_

I hear the silence of the water in every morning walk.

A tree communicates with another tree through its roots and I feel their heart beat as I embrace that tree.

I belong to nature as nature lives under my skin.

I fly with the eagles.

I run with the lions.

I play with the elephants in the mud.

I am a bridge between the perfect and imperfect.

I am the image of the beauty and the dark.

As I am guilty for burning the tree without a warning.

I cut the trees and I make a home.

I eat the fishes on my plate.

I am the most dangerous animal of all and nature keeps supporting me in so many different and extraordinary ways.

That (is) the difference between human and nature.

I am not the creator but i am that little bee that trying for days to put the nectar in the nest of the Queen. I was only a small ant that was looking for food.

I am the perfect and imperfect nature that will become the Dreamland of every living being

I start to forgive this imperfect world and spread a new message of kindness and generosity.

Nature teaches me to be free but not greedy.

To be open but not manipulated.

To be the real me in any circumstances and accept my responsibilities.

Nature only teaches us how we can understand ourselves and become real.

The pureness is not easy but it is not impossible.

EVA Petropoulou Lianou 

………

Θέμα: Nature….. translation

_Natura_

Sento il silenzio dell’acqua in ogni passeggiata mattutina.

Un albero comunica con un altro albero attraverso le sue radici e sento il battito del suo cuore mentre abbraccio quell’albero.

Appartengo alla natura perché la natura vive sotto la mia pelle.

Volo con le aquile.

Corro con i leoni.

Gioco con gli elefanti nel fango.

Sono un ponte tra il perfetto e l’imperfetto.

Sono l’immagine della bellezza e dell’oscurità.

Come se fossi colpevole di bruciare l’albero senza preavviso.

Taglio gli alberi e mi costruisco una casa.

Mangio i pesci nel mio piatto.

Sono l’animale più pericoloso di tutti e la natura continua a sostenermi in tanti modi diversi e straordinari.

Questa è la differenza tra l’uomo e la natura.

Non sono il creatore, ma sono quella piccola ape che per giorni ha cercato di porre il nettare nel nido della regina. Ero solo una piccola formica in cerca di cibo.

Sono la natura perfetta e imperfetta che diventerà il mondo dei sogni di ogni essere vivente.

Comincio a perdonare questo mondo imperfetto e a diffondere un nuovo messaggio di gentilezza e generosità.

La natura mi insegna a essere libera ma non avida.

A essere aperta ma non manipolata.

A essere la vera me stessa in ogni circostanza e ad accettare le mie responsabilità.

La natura ci insegna solo come possiamo comprendere noi stessi e diventare  una persona vera

La purezza non è facile, ma non è impossibile.

Autrice: Eva Lianou Petropoulou©®

Grecia

Tutti i diritti riservati all’autore

Maria Miraglia

Italy

_Nature_

الطبيعة

تناهى أسماعي صمت الأمواه عند كل نزهة صباحية

تتواصل شجرة مع أخرى من خلال جذورها وأنا أستشعر نبض خافقي لما أحتضنها

أنتمي لتلك الطبيعة وكأنها تقطن في حشاشتي أسفل جلد يغطيني  

أحلق مع النسور

أعدو كالأسود

وألهو كالفيلة في الطين 

أنا الجسر الواصل بين التام والمنقوص

أنا صورة الجمال وهجيع الظلام 

وكأني مذنبة اقترفت جرماً بحرق أشجال بلا سابق إنذار

أقطع جذوع الأشجار لأصنع بيوتاً نسكنها كظعن 

أتناول الأسماك المتراصة على الصحن

أنا الحيوان الأخطر على وجه الإطلاق ومازالت الطبيعة تآزرني بأساليب  متنوعة وعلى غير العادة

هذي هي المفارقة بين الطبيعة والإنسان

لست الخالق بل أنا مجرد نحلة ضئيلة تسعى حثيثا أن تضع رحيقها في عش الملكة.. بل أنا النملة التي تتكبد عناء البحث عن طعام

هكذا أنا الطبيعة في أحسن تقويم لها وفي نقصها حتى أضحى بيدر أحلام كل كائن حي

لقد شرعت في التسامح مع ذاك الجزء المعاب من العالم ونشر رسالة مفادها الألفة والكرم

تعلمني الطبيعة أن أكون حرة بلا جشع وبروق أطماع

لكي أكون منفتحة وبألا أصير مستغلة

لكي أكون كما أنا في الواقع بكل الظروف وأن أتقبل كل المسؤوليات على عاتقي

هي تعلمنا كيف نستوعب مكامن جوهرنا لنصبح كما نحن بلا مراء

النقاء ليس بالأمر اليسير ولكنه ليس بمستحيل. 

ترجمة الشاعر المصري / أحمد فاروق بيضون

Ahmed Farooq baidoon

Egypt

THE PROPHETS OF IRRELEVANCE IN AN IRREVERENT AGE

Dr. Jernail S. Anand

There are so many things which turn irrelevant when they become outdated, and are, therefore, dusted out. It is very important for every young man to decide what is of relevance and what has lost it.  Prioritizing is a very professional game in the present milieu, and even where things seem to be irrelevant, we make a list of the irrelevant, the more irrelevant and the most irrelevant. The most irrelevant things are considered obsolete, and then consigned to the dustbin. Our minds too have a trash box where we place most of the things which are not required in our daily transactions. Sometimes, when we have time, we sit and delete them.

The Relevantia

What is important for this society and, therefore, relevant? For a common man, the essential issues have often been associated with  his living, his survival. When survival is assured, he starts thinking of living beautifully. Aesthetics comes in, when he has free time to think for himself. The third stage which often does not come in the case of majority of people [because the second phase draws on too long] is thinking dutifully. The second phase was the phase of self-decoration, self- enjoyment and self-improvement. In majority of cases, things stop here.

In fact, in case of millions of people, things stop with gaining a capability to make both ends meet. If they have shelter, a wife, a few kids, and work, they are satisfied. They can lead a life of eighty years without thinking a word about others. Religion plays a great role in keeping them subdued, and under fear of the gods, and it makes them do some good deeds also. If they do not think too much, it gives them a coarse  happiness too. We can think of those also, who are born in torn families now a days, who do not have a home, who do not have siblings, who do not have complete set of parents, and who do not own a home [living on rent in flats]  which means they have no permanent affiliation with any place. They belong to no village, no city, such is this age of transition and trans-movement. Those who are denied these basic certainties of life, often turn loose, and start their forays into the underworld. There is no one to check them. Parents can stop them, but parents, who are victims of this ‘surplus economy’ which denies them essential services, themselves indulge in wrongful deeds, and have no moral authority to stop their kids when they go astray.  

What is relevant for the lowest strata? Food and a poisoned mind, against those who have everything.  Those who can manage these foundational necessities, have a little bit time at their disposal, in which they try to make their living aesthetically fulfilling. Education, art, culture lend beauty and charm to people who have modest means, coupled with a hazy  understanding of what they have and what they have lost. These people are thinking beautifully, and all their efforts are centred at their self.

Thinking Dutifully

The third phase sets in  when people start thinking dutifully. If seventy percent people belong to the first category, twenty percent  to the second, then only ten percent people are those who belong to the third category, the people who think dutifully. These are the people who have transcended the limiting boundaries of knowledge, and realized their interconnection with the superior forces of creation, which are benefic to all creation including animals, birds, and rivers, winds and mountains.

Darkness

These people know what is darkness. When the light has gone, and you are running for a matchstick, it is not darkness. Darkness is the absence of light. Even when you can see, still there are things which you do not see. This is darkness. If you see injustice before your eyes, and you move forward, this is a cryptic case of darkness. We have within us vast reserves of darkness. Education, knowledge, and all training which makes us insensitive to the created universe, add to the universal darkness.

If we look closely at ourselves, we will see how many of us are living, growing and dying in darkness. Light belongs to the Buddha. Light means you know what is where. If you become aware of your priorities, if you know what is necessary and what is unnecessary, you have light. Knowledge should have this property, but alas! Knowledge, as it is the preferred domain of the Devil, does not let us pass into the domain of light. It closes our mind to impulses which  are divine in origin.

The Relevant and the Irrelevant

The milieu in which we are living is not the making of one day or of one person. Year after year, decade after decade, country after country, and leader after leader, have contributed to this collective blindness of human race to the impulses and urges which are divine. Knowledge, books, libraries and teachers are used to check all the sources of inspiration so that the reserves of natural wisdom among the students remain untapped, and ultimately go dry. Finally, we have to decide what is relevant for this milieu which has turned absolutely irreverent to the things which still have divinity around them. Here is a list of the irrelevancies which our young men can skip  without hurting their career prospects. Tick out Parents. Tick out Teachers.  Respecting parents or being obedient to them, tick it out. Knowledge is the most preferred item on the agenda. Wisdom, a dangerous proposition. Tick it off. Goodness, Honesty, Integrity – all apply brakes on your speed. Tick them out.  Remember, this world basks in the glory of power, success, wealth and fame. Good bye to all great traditions of the past which believed in humanity, human dignity, human goodness, and godliness. If you consider yourself a good man, there is fear of your son or daughter moving you in the trash box. Beware!

Dr. Jernail Singh Anand, [the Seneca, Charter of Morava, Franz Kafka and Maxim Gorky award and Signs Peace Award Laureate, with an opus of 180 books, whose name adorns the Poets’ Rock in Serbia]]  is a towering literary figure whose work embodies a rare fusion of creativity, intellect, and moral vision.

Of the rain
~~~~~~~
I am so grateful for the untimely rain
And my waiting hours for sunshine
For the twittering birds
Listening to the most precious song of the hour
They speak the glory of each and every flower
Which were decorated beautifully
With innumerable colorful butterflies
And slowly the salt settles somewhere
Where someone is lighting the diya every evening
Yes the sun will come across gleaming
Each and every morning

*Diya – small oil lamp

Cup of my tea

My cup of black tea lacks sugar
Tastes so sweet filling me with life in every sip
I don’t mix milk in my tea since long
Well nothing happens without reason!
Is it so ?
Perhaps,
who knows?
I kept on filling one after another
Until I realised, it was overflowing
On a note rejection often sung in tables of cafeteria
Unnoticed in some corner
Blotting over the tissue paper
So neglected is was every time!
Until it became a sweetener
So perfect it seemed   only when I sipped and continue to sip
Just for me!

1.MY SILENCE

Is a holy silence, completely

United spirit, soul, body, 

By silence and prayer

Astrally connected to the essential 

Nature, free from ego, vanity

Worldly worries, doubts

Illuminated by pure love

I open my eyes, listen to the beats

Of the heart, my breath is calm, 

Energetic scars healed, 

Resistant to the deceptions of material 

Delusions, Illusory realities,

Bad conclusions, others’ and my own

I am free, I believe

In God’s providence, let it be… 

2.Poem

In the beginning was the Word

The Word was the living God.

And there was light.

God gave it to men to

cover the darkness.

In his unconditional love, he gave man thought to learn and progress. 

Soon thought took over. 

The man and woman began to

demand more, anger arose.

Little by little, they began to attack

all that was holy, the love from which

they were made, and the Truth that testified

to their existence. Anger threw

a stone at the truth, unable to bear its 

ugly, distorted, evil face.

Then the lie appeared, wanting to humiliate 

it and threw another stone. 

Not knowing

to defend itself, the Truth sought refuge.

All this was seen by cunning, luring it

out of hiding, offering protection.

Sincere as it was, it believed, made

a mistake and came out. At that moment, Pride and Jealousy appear, now so distraught over their true face that they could not bear. The light is covered by darkness, ashamed of the naked, unprotected truth. Everyone wonders where God is, why the Creator allows everything to happen before His eyes. God is love, He gave us free will. Man is prone to abuse it, he can do whatever he wants for a while, but not for as long as he wants. Light is stronger than darkness, the truth will come out and show itself when the time comes. Until then, we are given free will to reconsider our actions.

Biography

Melita Mely Ratković 

Born in Yugoslavia, married, mother of two sons. After the collapse of the state, from one of the former republics there, Croatia, she moved to Serbia, where she still lives today in the city of Novi Sad. She has been engaged in poetry since she was young, she is talented, she studies foreign languages ​​and is engaged in translation.

Translator of Spanish, Portuguese, English, Bengali.

Profession and cultural activity: Literary ambassador of Serbia in Brazil and Spain.

Accredited as an international ambassador of the Circle of the International Chamber of Writers and Artists

 CIESART

 With the authority to initiate cultural activities authorized by the presidency of the Circle of Cultural Ambassadors in the World, non-profit, for the dissemination of the work, its author and its erudition, especially taking into account the altruism and peace of the people

She participated in the HYPERPOEM Anthology for the Guinness Book of Records

Participated in several anthologies, world heritage. 

She was nominated as one of the 50 important women of Europe”

In Rome, Italy, on November 11 and 12, two very important events were held at the Pontifical Antonianum University _ the conference of world literary leaders of the “50 Important Women of Europe” project.    

Global Federation of Leadership and High Intelligence

Winning the 2023 “Zheng Nian Cup” Literary Award Third Prize by the Beijing Mindfulness Literature Museum. 

 The winner 

  V PLATINUM EAGLE 2024

 GLOBAL FEDERATION OF LEADERSHIP AND HIGH INTELLIGENCE

  OFFICIAL DIPLOMA

  WALHAC World Academy of Literature, Art and Culture

MIL MENTES POR MÉXICO Internacional

World Awards for Excellence

She is an immortal academician of the following academies:

 INTERNATIONAL AMBASSADOR OF “GAONES” For Serbia, 

 (Gaonesa is a literary structure created by writer Edwin Antonio Gaona Salinas from Ecuador

AIAP – ACADEMIA INTERCONTINENTAL de Artistas y Poetas – Brazil

 Academia Mundial de Cultura y Literatura AMCL – Brazil

Academia de Música y Literatura Artística – Brazil

Academia Democrática Independiente de Escritores y Poetas – Brazil

Biblioteca Mundial Academia de Letras y Poesía – Brazil

CILA Confraternidad Internacional de Literatura y Artes

Academia Feminina Global de Letras AFGL