The Best Poem

The most efficient way to write a poem

Is to find another poem and take out the heart.

Leave the other poem where you found it bleeding out.

If it were efficient it would have survived 

like the catfish deserting a sinking ship.

After it has sunk, they crawl about the bottom

chewing on the rats and the hands

that didn’t get out.

That is natural selection.

 

 The best poems are the poems that are here.

They persevere through merit.

They go to Burning Man to find more truth.

Shelley has built a Byronic hedge fund

of virtue and innovation.

It stands naked and peeing in the night of wisdom.

And where its urine spatters test scores rise

like manly locks shaking in the storm of cost benefit analysis.

 

 This is the poem that ate your heart.

This is the poem whose heart was eaten.

We need less blood and more Human Resources 

if we are to go into the dark of genius

and emerge with the light of anthology.

Voices of Gaza
  
In the streets of Gaza, where shadows fall, 
Children's laughter fades into a distant call. 
There are no shortcuts, only endless struggles, 
A journey marked by the edge of a knife. 

To reach the goals, it takes everyone's toil and commitment, 
In a land where dreams barely survive. 
Patience, the guide in the darkest night, 
Learning, growing, seeking the light. 

In the heart of Gaza, the cruel embrace of hunger, 
Thirst and pain etched on every face. 
Yet hope persists, a glimmer in the darkness, 
A promise of peace, a flower that blooms. 

Remember, world, the cries of the little ones, 
In Gaza, where the innocent fall. 
Cease the fire now, let compassion reign, 
End the suffering, ease the pain. 

For every step on this weary path, 
Is a testimony to the lasting wrath. 
But with every lesson, in every tear shed 
There is strength to move forward. 

In unity, we stand, hand in hand, 
For the children of Gaza, for this sacred land, hoping. 
May peace prevail, may love ignite, 
A future where all can bask in the light.

BIOGRAPHY

Lidia Popa was born in Romania in the locality of Piatra Șoimului, in the county of Neamț, on 16th April, 1964. She finished her studies in Piatra Neamț, Romania with a high school diploma and other administrative courses, where she worked until she decided to emigrate to Italy.

She has been living for 23 years and worked in Rome as part of the wave of intellectual emigrants since the fall of the Berlin Wall.

She wrote her first poem at her age of seven. She is a poet, essayist, storyteller, recognized in Italy and in other countries for her literary activities. She collaborates with cultural associations, literary cenacles, literary magazines and paper and online publications of Romanian, Italian and international literature. She writes in Romanian, Italian and also in other languages as an exercise in knowledge.

BOOKS

She has published her poems in six books:

in Italy:

1. ” Point different ( to be ) ” – ed. Italian and

2.” In the den of my thoughts ( Dacia ) ” – ed. bilingual Romanian/ Italian AlettiEditore 2016,

3.“ Sky amphora ” – ed. bilingual Romanian/ Italian EdizioniDivinafollia 2017,

in Romania:

4. ” The soul of words” ed. bilingual Romanian/ Albanian Amanda Edit Verlag 2021,

5.” Syntagms with longing for clover ” ed. Romanian, EdituraMinela 2021.

6.” The Voice interior ” LidiaPopa and BakiYmeri ed. bilingual Romanian/Italian, Amanda Edit Verlag 2022.

Her poems featured in more than 50 literary anthologies and literary magazines on line from 2014 to 2023 in Italy, Romania, Spain, Canada, Serbia, Bangladesh, United Kingdom, Liban,USA,etc.

Her poems are translated into Italian, French, English, Spanish, Arabic, German, Bangladesh, Portuguese, Serbian, Urdu, Dari, Tamil, etc.

Her writings are published regularly with some magazines in Romania, Italy and abroad.

She is a promoter of Romanian, Italian and international literature, and is part of the juries of the competitions.

She translates from classical or contemporary authors who strike for the refinement and quality of their verses in the languages: Italian, Romanian, English, Spanish, French, German, stating that “it is just a writing exercise to learn and evolve as a person with love for humanity, for art, poetry and literature “.

SHE IS

*Member of the Italian Federation of Writers (FUIS)

*Honorary member of the International Literary Society Casa PoeticaMagia y Plumas Republic of Colombia,

*Member of Hispanomundial Union of Writers (Union Hispanomundial de Escritores) (UHE) and Thousands Minds For Mexico (MMMEX)

*President UHE and MMMEX Romania, August 21, 2021

*She had come power of attorney Vice-president UHE Romania, Mars18, 2021- August 21, 2021

*President UHE and MMMEX Romania, August 21, 2021

*Counselor from Italy for Suryodaya Literary Foundation Odisha India,

*Director from Italy for Alìanza Cultural Universal (ACU) Argentina

*Member Motivational Strips Oman,a member of numerous other literary groups at the level internationally,

*Director of Poetry and Literature World Vision Board of Directors (PLWV) Bangladesh

*Membership of ANGEENA INTERNATIONAL NON PROFIT ORGANISATION of Canada

International Peace Ambassador of The Daily Global Nation International Independent Newspaper from Dhaka Bangladesh – 2023

*Founder literary group Lido dell’anima with LIDO DELL’ANIMA AWARDS

*Founder LIDO DELL’ANIMA Italian magazine

*Founder SILVAE VERBORUM INTERNATIONAL multilingual magazine

*Founder literary currently #homelesspoetry

etc.

Chute Me Like Verlaine; or, Red &Hot in the cit Y,,, Riffer Phonix…

Aka47GHc, return to blander

.

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And rhus a rental applicant 

Cops caught in a proxy dental applicant. I, i cap’n‘ crunt walk out twitch these trotskys. They’ve got the talking heads bout my gen’s oxys. Rational black sabbatical dental applicant for this gag slag ordered me off 2 Gadigal rental had it all accidet

Tour car we’re inuitin’ into it in putting the h in i m

Putting the urgency in M an’ OMMM

Styx up –

THey spiked my eyes with a Hortense

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Ivmael icksrus waiter cto

Gmo theres a getting even steven fly in my channel 9 scoop hoes getting crass with the cross beau’s elbows

Double you hoops

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H or

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Club 7

Heaven is 11 judge harpoon mercys marx heathens heaving 

Fark

They asio called me. CharizardGet rich gaunts or diet cola trying me would take off in my ola commisions five error H. Or dense. Ddt.. Dis diss lexicon’s my dmt Lp’s era. Steezin’.

This RFID avant garde’s the kings cross reason. Miaow. Miaow my soft cell goes on to brown out your brands towns vile. In the loo with the lewd vial, tho file it under the guile of Lil pelvis..

Hell fish in the cell Fitch. Miles. You can vince mcmahon me later. Duvets. Snerabloids Kelly slaughter.

House five in the air

Shooboozey dupey i be cute this drop together Wop, wop, wop…

Lets do it up2

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“And what about this heresay itz not funny Treason Quitline???”

“I got the idea from this big time John. Taylor Swift.”

Where are my cokehead failures?

Cola blu collars at what a beaut codswallop. As is this is i owe you tje nu nu

Fuck T. Rump.swallows. Ddt rum. Bolos. P? The economy gets on with me. Tie. Honestly… this will off

Voodoo that sweet chile of 

I went all allende

Murk and ma.d. i. Mooney

The style is Jigsaw Rap. I come from the lambda of plenty

Dude Yours is truly psycho julie is this caesar seized salad the throw backs to the salcious go gaffs. The power’s out of ballads, and, weave a roady boken up with the boating shoes the rule of fortune. Fortetude . Once again , in the coffee to my cup of loco, their Universal pixels eyes pick ya

Hodgy beats

Im specious. So, so special. K gotta have some of your – tentacle attention in zz curtsy embassy vonnegutted the amenities me too Plunder blunderphonics under neath with her her neat sonic youth screw pile drivers under wear out the know how kitty maggot is the lazy susan bad dest. To be. Loose in Ghc. Or node spruce moose ward 2d. Mt. Or That is pop druitt art straight out of compton threw up our pimpley mind you suck this tribe’called question

Socialterity

Remember the r e m embers these parts of me to breathe. Out Nah. Forget how to be. Found. Hart

Crane up there for your neckids.

Or, imma – what Snickers? – it beggars

Man hunt belief? Tor up s thompson street pa u lie.

And not just about chorale reef!

Next to me is a b cut up a clean figure c 8 balls all in the pocket

Silver rocket Uppers they warned me

All.

Debt is a lie. Pilcher forests

CizUxurize. Stitch up u guys. 2. Left 

To forage

Leaf sentience for an age that is we’re back ending up under their lifeshow miss took my aegis mis laid life

Sentences to bling you deficits surround us want you like our coffee welk grounded as a hogs breath lesson 1 floundered. Said

Give me a Pound, E.z. or youre

My rock

Bottoms up! God wins all in of youre

 laws, bud.

P.s. tech ically i should probs reresd it, cos made some start changes, but idk, idk,

Haiku Pokes

night edging in

ache of tall buildings

hugging those inside

taking chances

homeless venturing out

looking for kind words

eye in the sky

teardrops cleansing

the whole world

playing the guitar

quiet strokes soothing

pit of the city

numb this night

world sinking into itself

the last seizure 

waiting

for the snap of time

when we wake up

little dancer

not knowing when she grows up

taking chances

young artist

only a moment smiling

a cartoon face

breaking news

splitting the world

in half

wind whispering

circling the globe

in a chokehold

at the doorstep

a new day

careful footing

Stephen Jarrell Williams can be found on X (Twitter) @papapoet.  He has been published here and there and where the light still glows.

The Heart

Heart.
Because of you, misfortunes have no end,
Where you are, danger lies close or distant.
Cast away deceit, turn back and repent,
For on Judgment Day, there will be questions to answer.

I envy those without a heart,
They don’t burn, don’t love, and don’t even die.
How can they? For they have no heart.
But me? I have a thousand hearts…
Yet still, something feels incomplete.

Some have hearts, but they’re lifeless, dead,
Even if torn apart, no blood would be shed.
Inside them, parasites hum their tune,
Even a dog wouldn’t eat what’s thrown to it soon.

Are there such people in life, I wonder?
Yes. Don’t you see? Look closer, further.
Those who sell conscience and homeland for gold,
With no compassion, their hearts are cold.

The heart — a delicate, unique creation,
It cannot be left unguarded, not for a moment.
Close your eyes briefly, and it might be led astray,
Even by desires for the unworthy in the fray.

Shoxijahon Urunov — student of Bukhara State Pedagogical Institute

LAND OF SILENCE

In the valley where the wind softly smiles,

Where birds sing free from fear and pain,

Peace weaves robes of golden threads,

And crafts a world of boundless freedom.

On the horizon where dawn gleams bright,

No cannons roar, no tears of grief fall,

Only whispers of rivers, the scent of olives,

In a world where hearts rest in calm.

No longer do hands bear weapons of war,

Now they reach to build bridges anew,

Eyes once shadowed by darkness and pain

Now seek only the skies’ heavenly hue.

For in peace, love blooms and grows,

While tales of war become distant lore.

In every heart glows a spark of joy,

And life’s silence creates a radiant light.

Land of silence, sacred and dear,

May eternity rest in your gentle embrace.

Let every song from this place arise,

To spread love and the fragrance of freedom.

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.

Contributor Eva Petropolou Lianou would like to let us know about this call for submissions of poetry to benefit a writer in Gaza (whom we’ve also published).

Also, contributing poet Christina Chin has a new book available now on Amazon, “First Day of the Rest.” This is a special project, a collaborative haibun/haibunga book written with Michael Hough, poet, composer, and musician featuring both photos and art by the authors. More about the book here.

Next, an announcement from contributor Chimezie Ihekuna, who is seeking an investor/executive producer for the project, One Man’s Deep Words. It is set in the US, details here.

Also, poet and prose writer Christopher Bernard would like to share that his magazine, Caveat Lector, will be giving a reading to commemorate the Winter 2025 issue, at Clarion Performing Arts Center. Information and address here.

In this issue, our international contributors address themes of passion.

Some writers explore this concept in the way modern people tend to understand it, with pieces on love of various sorts.

Madaminova Ogiloy’s tender poem praises the kindness and care of her mother. Ilhomova Mohichehra reflects on the steady consistency and dedication of her father. Xonzoda Axtamova honors a mother who cared for her children despite her own struggles.

G’ulomjanova Marjona reminds us that family love and care for parents should come before materialism and success in our short lives.

Anindya Paul’s piece compares the pressure of a son trying to live up to his father’s expectations to that of a father doing his best to provide for and raise children.

Teachers and other professionals also extend deep concern for the children under their care. Azadbek Yusupov outlines effective ways to evaluate teachers’ classroom performance. Medical student Dilshoda Izzatilloyeva outlines causes and treatments of pneumonia in young children.

Rus Khomutoff evokes a mix of spiritual and sensual feelings in his transfixing concrete dream poem. R.K. Singh’s poetry explores the feelings of men and women navigating complex sensual desires and emotions: fear, danger, lust, and ecstasy that can come with intimacy. Mark Blickley fills out the story in a bawdy Greek myth in historical speculative fan fiction.

Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal fantasizes about imagined romances as his body slowly decays with time. Doug Holder crafts a mood of giddy romantic anticipation in his ekphrastic accompaniment to Gieseke Penizzotto Denise’s painting.

While the word has come to be associated with romantic emotion, the word “passion” comes from an old Latin word for suffering and originally referred to the willingness to endure much to reach one’s goals. Some of our contributors celebrate this kind of determination and perseverance, on their paths to personal or creative development or just to survive in the world.

Jacques Fleury reviews Lyric Stage Boston’s production of Lynn Nottage’s play Crumbs from the Table of Joy and discusses how the show highlights the struggles of working-class Black people for full inclusion in the United States.

In Bill Tope’s short story, a young woman rebels against the humiliation of an oppressive dress code.

Graciela Noemi Villaverde draws on gardening metaphors to describe the cultivation of character over time. Feruza Sheraliyeva writes of the corrosive nature of corruption on society and urges every individual to uphold ethical standards. Asadbek Yusupov outlines the balance between individual rights and civic responsibilities in Uzbekistan. Aminova Dilbar highlights the value placed on inter-ethnic harmony, equality, and mutual respect in Uzbekistan, codified into the highest levels of government.

David Sapp’s poetic speaker wishes to transcend this life to a higher spiritual plane, but human feelings keep calling him back to this mortal coil. Kieu Bich Hau remains resolute during her time of soul-searching loss on the shores of Italy’s Lake Como. Michael Robinson speaks to how his faith in Christ gives him joy and peace as he undergoes dialysis. Abigail George’s essay speaks to what it means to create in times of great struggle and societal marginalization.

Anna Keiko celebrates individuality in her short poem, encouraging readers to be unafraid to be themselves. Z.I. Mahmud highlights themes of female emancipation and agency and freedom from existing purely for the male gaze in Sylvia Plath’s poetry.

In his Reflective Thinking spoken word album and screenplay concept One Man’s Deep Words, Chimezie Ihekuna mulls over what makes for a wise and satisfying life. Sometimes, satisfaction can come through dedication to one’s craft.

Jacques Fleury’s poem on a day of solitude reminds us of what unites us all as human beings and brings his literary and cultural aspirations to clearer focus.

Stephen Bett evokes the feeling of hearing performance poetry at a reading in his concrete-ish piece, and also jeers at weaponized misogyny and reflects on chemical happiness. Patrick Sweeney crafts one-line poems that become near-stories with a thoughtful reading.

Poet and nature photographer Brian Barbeito outlines his creative process and goals in a creative personal essay. Kylian Cubilla Gomez’ photos this month explore mediated images of nature: drawings and cartoons we create to interface with our world from a step removed.

Actor and writer Federico Wardal spotlights Egyptian actor Wael Elouny and Italian director Antonello Altamura and their new indie film Ancient Taste of Death. Mark Young’s mix of intriguing and explosive visual pieces meld color, shape, text, and design. Texas Fontanella mixes up chatspeak and everyday language in a cyberpunk-style set of surreal anecdotes and shares some intense, wild musical vibes.

Maftuna Mehrojova outlines basics of and new directions in the craft of business marketing and communications. Gulsevar Bosimova describes and takes pride in her proficiency in traditional Uzbek martial arts.

Dilbar Koldoshova Nuraliyevna writes of how Uzbek poet Abdulla Oripov’s works were grounded in his love of his homeland. Joseph C. Ogbonna reflects on his trip from Nigeria to visit John F. Kennedy’s birthplace and rhapsodizes on the glory of the past president and his times.

Another aspect of passion, or love, is grief for what we lose. Ahmed Miqdad mourns loss of life, hope, and joy in Gaza during wartime.

Christopher Bernard laments in mythological, epic language the loss of so much beauty and history to the flames in Los Angeles. Pat Doyne grieves not just the fires in Los Angeles, but the callousness of some in society towards the survivors and the natural environment.

Rob Plath’s poetry conveys the understated numbness of grief and remembrance as Ahmad Al-Khatat’s character sketch illustrates the emptiness and fragility that can come with being displaced from one’s homeland and loved ones. In a more upbeat tone, J.K. Durick recollects fragments of people and literary works that populated his youthful consciousness and now his dreams. Taylor Dibbert reflects on the passage of time through a brief encounter with someone he remembers from long ago.

Linda S. Gunther reviews Nikki Erlick’s novel The Measure, a tale asking big questions about mortality, purpose, and destiny through the lives of carefully drawn, highly individual characters. Wazed Abdullah reminds us to cherish life, with all its ups and downs as Mahbub Alam points out how we are all mortal, how time ticks quickly for us all.

Yucheng Tao’s impressionist poetry touches on themes of memory and loss while Mykyta Ryzhykh draws on imagery of death, decay, and natural renewal.

Lazzatoy Shukurillayeva translates a poem from historical Uzbek poet Alexander Feinberg about the brevity of life and the vanity of assuming you can make yourself great in a short time. Noah Berlatsky humorously reflects on how perhaps most of us do not need to be memorialized through ponderous tomes.

Despite the finite nature of our lives, some people take passionate enjoyment in our ordinary world.

Dr. Jernail S. Anand recaptures the wonder of childhood and urges his fellow adults to reclaim youthful curiosity.

Isabel Gomez de Diego’s photos suggest the wonder in everyday scenes: a mural of a wine toast during a meal, public fountains, loaves of sourdough bread. Lidia Popa waxes poetic on birds and green butterflies as Alan Catlin sends up many different ways of looking at winter, summer, crows, and the moon.

Sayani Mukherjee illustrates the rebirth of sunrise as winter gives way to spring and she rejoins the outdoors in her running shoes.

In another kind of rebirth, we’ve just barely started another planetary journey around the sun. Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa welcomes in the Northern Hemisphere’s wintry New Year and speaks of the difficulty of conveying the feel of snow to someone in a temperate climate. Maria Cristina Pulvirenti’s minuscule haiku captures how snow can muffle sound, dulling the senses to focus your attention.

Daniel De Culla cynically speculates that selfish human nature will not change much in the New Year. J.J. Campbell considers signs of hope in his life, then rationalizes each of them away. And, in another piece, Ahmed Miqdad contrasts the human suffering in Gaza with the world’s joyful holiday celebrations. Pat Doyne reflects on quirky, hopeful, and fearsome bits of 2024’s news cycle and wonders playfully about 2025.