End and Beginning

Just as the young moon gently cuts through the starry canvas,

comets are born from that very sliver—

brief flames that shine and disappear.

When they fade into darkness,

we lift our gaze to the sky

and let a wish settle deep within our hearts.

When someone leaves this world,

our voices turn into songs—

celebrating the journey and the final return.

The universe measures everything with care,

pouring equal amounts of sorrow and joy,

as if each breath were a blessing

and each exhale a reminder of impermanence.

Let life flow, graced by blessings,

though it steadily walks toward death.

For all beauty springs from what is fleeting,

and every song reaches its final verse,

only to give birth to a new beginning in silence.

Maja Milojković was born in 1975 in Zaječar, Serbia. She is a person to whom from an early age, Leonardo da Vinci’s statement “Painting is poetry that can be seen, and poetry is painting that can be heard” is circulating through the blood. That’s why she started to use feathers and a brush and began to reveal the world and herself to them. As a poet, she is represented in numerous domestic and foreign literary newspapers, anthologies and electronic media, and some of her poems can be found on YouTube. Many of her poems have been translated into English, Hungarian, Bengali and Bulgarian due to the need of foreign readers. She is the recipient of many international awards. “Trees of Desire” is her second collection of poems in preparation, which is preceded by the book of poems “Moon Circle”. She is a member of the International Society of Writers and Artists “Mountain Views” in Montenegro, and she also is a member of the Poetry club “Area Felix” in Serbia.

***

the word ceiling does not mean that you have a sky

the word sky does not mean that nothing will fall on your head

scared to live with worms underground

it’s even scarier to live with worms above the ground

scared to be a worm

(the worm can be cut into pieces and he will not die)

(the worm moves strangely and has no legs)

scared to be

scared to scream

scared to be silent

scared to stream

it’s scary to be a man but to live without limbs like you’re a worm

as a child, I always tore off the arms and legs of toys

I tore off the arms and legs of toy soldiers

  (like in real life)

god why can’t you see

why does everyone around say that you do not exist

why does everyone around say that I’m not there

why am I lying somewhere in the cemetery and it’s dark around

***

Ashtrays of the Lord God after a night thunderstorm

Who will not return home after being struck by lightning?

Little girl looks out the window with hope

Her mother looks out the window with promised melancholy

***

firefighters die in a spring thunderstorm

fluffs of moisture swirl insatiably 

in the sultry air

***

in a spring fire 

trees were burned paper packaging thoughts plastic hands skin tears fears

and then the fire was extinguished with urine

the sky above the color of the bones of an angel

***

I have never seen birds

my old grandfather doesn’t recognize me

I rub my eyes 

and it’s dark around

physical diseases transmitted genetically are the most terrible

***

when my cat died i laughed

mouse corpses floated in the air

a sad mother came up and asked why I had fun and I bit her hand

then mom got offended and left the hospital

then the orderly came and again injected me with a sedative

the cleaning lady went to the bed and removed the toy (cat) torn to pieces

the remaining month in the mental hospital was not marked by anything special

***

Gas mask from the magi

Cocaine from cain

Cider from eva

Gospel of babylonians

And every morning someone born under the star of 

Jesus gets ready to go on the road

***

a small bird warms a piece of glass with its breath

a shadow from a tree hides behind a feathered back

college life caught in death collage

the bird freezes and the graveyard rain falls from heaven

the graves are crying and trying to say something

the tree is looking for a flower on its branches and does not find

another day has come to an end

***

The gallows of your embrace

Thousands of suns soak up the world around

Thousands of suns explode destroying the suicide world

The city of unwashed ropes and cracks in the chest climbs out

A man near a signboard and it is not clear where to go forward or into the future

***

1

Can’t die without you

Can’t breathe without you

I want to see your naked body

I want to see the bare naked soul

Paratroopers fly overhead like seagulls

But you’ll never see it again

2

A spring flame of hope burns in my chest

I’m still naive and capricious like a child

You are so beautiful and capable of giving everything in the world

You’re fucking somewhere far away with others and I’m happy for you

Distance is a house of cards for the two of us

And I never knew anything about cards

You’re in the house

I’m in a dungeon

3

The rain divides the city in half

The first half is for my love

The second half is destined for my love’s graveyard

***

the book teaches 

own pages 

to crunch wisely

***

five fingers

a child asked 

his mother 

why other children have five fingers

***

The graveyard of the bed counts the vertebrae

The broken ceiling shades the skies in the pupils

Aluminum birds stonefull knock on the window

The soul leaves the meat cage of physicality forever

***

stonefull 

everything

ness

without face –

outside my body

***

eagle without:

feathers 

beak 

еyes 

wings 

skin 

bones 

body

***

the voice you hear 

is drowning 

in the autumn water

***I didn’t pay for air before nightfall
My house has turned into a monster

Where should I return now?

***

snow is procrastination when your favorite porn actor dies inside you

MIGRATORY

I paddled inside you,

my mallard on your pond.

And then ¡away! I flew.

You waved and waved, alone.

ARACHNOLOGIST

My page-spiders

weave their wordwebs

inside your head,

to decipher.

UNSEASONED

Don’t come to me in Yellow,

when thermometers are full

of fever, of sweat, of woe

and nights are by daylight culled.

And please avoid me in Brown.

Environments start to die

and virgin forests ungown

and bare scarcity outcries.

Avoid my presence in White:

Lives lie sleeping in the ground

away from the strangled light,

away from festival sounds.

But in Green I’ll wait for you

and in Green we’ll reunite.

Green will welcome a rendezvous

between my cloud and your kite.

JASMINE AND COAL

I fell out of the orgasm

that left me bitter and old.

The air was filled with jasmine

but my tongue tasted of coal.

I lived like a revolution.

In the midst of brick and steel

I thought I could find ablution

if I never bowed or kneeled.

I believed only a hedon

was immune to slavery,

misunderstood as freedom

the struggle for ecstasy.

COCOON

I saw my externist today

and got my prescriptions filled

for a well-curated array

of armor auras and pills

to protect me against weathers

and germs. And also to blunt,

like a cuirass wrought of leather,

the intimacy of hugs

and the taste and touch of kisses.

In this invisible plate

I can discover what bliss is,

now that I’m inviolate.

Winter Day

Now winter is very hard

Animal need guard.

Sun can’t be seen

Everywhere is covered with fog

The fog is falling like rain

It wet the entire nature.

Poor people struggle very hard in winter

They haven’t clothes to cover.

Animals can’t go out for food.

So it is very sad, not good!

When the sun goes out,

The mist’s drops of leaves

Shine bright.

This time the nature be happy

From animals to trees.

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

 WAIT- THE ARCANE HOPE

I’ll be waiting for you,

A thousand lives,

I’ll be waiting for you,

Till I finish counting all the stars.

I’ll be waiting,

Till I cross the blue and reach your horizon. 

I’ve felt the tides splashing in hy heart,

When I saw the ocean in your eyes.

Your absence made me love you as much as I love the moon.

My heart sank deep down in the ocean  of your eyes,

And no, I don’t want to float.

The tides have washed away all the blood and,

 Your name is scribbled in my heart, by the merciless movement of the hard rocks.

Human value.
They say that money solves everything in the world. They say that human welfare does not allow this. You cannot do anything without money. No matter how much knowledge you have, you cannot live without money.
Even those who acquire this knowledge sell it for money, and the owner of clear knowledge is left behind.

A child of an ordinary person has the most knowledge, but a child of a rich man knows nothing.

Why are you always a rich man’s son?
Why do you say that if a man with money is his father.
Did you see, my friends, this story of mine will still be answered in the Day of Judgement.

Bukhara region
Jondor district
of the 30th school
8th “a” class student
Maftuna Rustamova

The Winter Kids

No midday warmth shields us from the chill of our shadows,

No dreams to drag us to sleep

Our house, rooted in the heart of the storm—

We were the first to leave it,

The last to enter, to sit in the folds of its corners

Like used pencils,

Staring at a heater,

Its oil dwindling,

Leaning shyly, against the chest of the wall.

We have nothing from our father but all of him

From our mother,

the warmth her Abaya that we moved to and from

The glow of our souls

Our burps from fullness,

The acceleration of our pulse at the crossroads of stories,

And her whispering,

“Sleep! We fell asleep.

By Faleeha Hassan

She 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 27 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. She is a Pulitzer Prize Nominee for 2018 and a Pushcart Prize Nominee for 2019.

Faleeha is a member of the International Writers and Artists Association, a winner of the Women of Excellence Inspiration award from SJ Magazine 2020, the winner of the Grand Jury Award (the Sahitto International Award for Literature 2021), a member of the Women of Excellence selection committees for 2023, a winner of a Women in the Arts award for 2023, a member of Who’s Who in America 2023, on the judging panel for the 2023 Sahitto Award, the winner of the HerStory Award from the Women’s Federation for World Peace New Jersey 2024, a Cultural Ambassador between Iraq and the USA since 2018, a Cultural Ambassador and worldwide literary advisor for PEN CRAFT Bangladesh.

She is also honored to be appointed as a 2024 Peace Ambassador by the Universal Peace Federation and to be a member of The Founding Mothers Global Women’s Congress 2024. You may email Faleeha Hassan at d.fh88@yahoo.com