Ancient Egypt 

Ancient Egypt, the realm of the pharaohs.

You have your exalted heights for the vulture,

and a serpentine viceroy for your depths.

Amun-Ra enjoys your deification,

as one who radiates a smile upon you by day.

The king of gods and their dexterous magnificence.

He speaks from the burning sky and the air!

Anytime leanness threatens your neighbours,

the life giving nile extracts your lush green.

Having flowed like milk from pendulous breasts.

You sourced your indelible prints and texts

from versatile cyperus papyrus.

On your hieroglyphs we see you revealed,

so do we at the valley of the kings.

The many gods defined and still define you.

Your culture, your life and the underworld 

are all by Osiris and Nephthys controlled.

The old kingdom, the middle and the new

are all at Memphis, Thebes and Pi-Rameses seen.

The pyramids of Giza distinguish you as one wonder of the world for all civilizations seen!

One magical Egypt, the precursor of modern civilizations.

On Half-believing News Reports the US is Returning to Bagram

So, we are creeping back like Jeff Bridges

in The Old Man

In the Shomali Valley where seasons occurred

before men came to feel and name them

Afghanistan’s gnarled finger of time points

to another invader returning

As a soar of C-17 Globemasters appears above mountains

and drops to Bagram

But in the orchards and fields spread around the airfield

veiled women in headscarfs, men in tunics barely notice,

Hardly look up, at the power of American dollars

flying over them, winning over even their Supreme Leader

With his hardened Deobandi heart and impoverished

country of poor workers, beggars, sadistic soldiery

****

We won’t return to give them any kind of government

in the image of democracy — already tried, failed

We won’t do anything to let women escape their homes,

no longer cover their faces, swallow their tongues

Whatever geopolitical motivation: attack plans against Iran,

because China’s an hour away, a combat boot pivot to Asia

No matter the reason, whatever massive grease payment

to these turbaned, hard-bitten America-haters

Let the cargo planes land, let soldiers climb back into guard

towers, let the Apache helos circle,

Seal teams hike mountains to clear attackers, let data

from satellites rain down again to decryption receivers,

Just use this offer-the-Taliban-can’t-refuse power for one

noble human thing, too: make them let girls go back to school

A US Army combat veteran, Steven Croft lives on a barrier island off the coast of Georgia.  His latest chapbook is At Home with the Dreamlike Earth (The Poetry Box, 2023).  His work has appeared in online and print journals and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net.

It all started with the World Storytelling Championship! 

Year 2020. 

ACEnovation took a deep breadth and jumped into the warm embrace of the ocean called storytelling! The cool water enveloped us, silencing the world above and pulling us into its serene depths… The deeper we dived the more interesting & beautiful  it became – an underwater garden bustling with stories – we felt a sense of freedom and that inate connection to stories, storytelling and storytellers! 5 years. We swam around the world. Quietly. Setting benchmarks. Touching lives. Making a difference! Brand ACEnovation is warmth. It connects…Bonds. We, now have family in 181 countries. The numbers increasing. We are one. The strength in that oneness drifted us back to India. 

To Launch a  Storytelling Championship ! 

  For ages 3+ to 103+ ( 6 age categories) 

We picked up pearls on the way. 

‘The Hindu in School’ as Media Partners. 

 VIT – Chennai Campus as Organizing Partners

 Amar Chitra Katha as organizing partner

Chools Group as organizing partner

 Image King as Bronze partner

Strung together, we made a lovely necklace and called it :

*The National Storytelling Championship  NSC – INDIA 2025!* 

To know more visit our website: (It is truly a well crafted story)

***https://www.nationalstorytellingchampionship.com

Thank you all for the love… Shower us with more.. Join the championship… Craft your tale. Capture the crown!! 

In Any City

A muffled radio can be heard  

from a neighboring motorist 

stopped at the light 

When it’s green

vehicles thrust forward 

in unison with blind force 

rush by

a cathedral 

framed in scaffolding 

kids playing basketball

in the adjacent schoolyard 

barefoot homeless 

somewhere on any street 

universal longing

The taxi meter ticks

as the basketball bounces

from hand to hand 

the horns drown out a death or two

an eagle cries out 

for its mate

a traffic light is red globally 

while someone’s heart beats 

like a wild bird 

for it to turn green

for the ball to make the hoop

for the barefoot homeless girl

to return home

for some damn thing to happen

for the love of God 

anything above and beyond 

the hustle and bustle

down a street 

in any city

in any life 

Write How Quiet It Is

5am dawn crawls into the sky – hello

write me a love note

some fool’s verbiage

to tell me the dark stars – our death stars

have exploded

and we are free

from judgment

free to write

Write this you fool:

all that glitters

was in my hand

and like the sand

slid into the sea

all that matters now

is that you write it

Speaking goes into

the void of forgetfulness

pre-dementia waiting

on the forum

I write it

buy milk

put gas in car

feed and let dogs out

dumb-ass notes

in fifty years our kids

kids

kids

will read this stuff

and say

how simple she was

good ole

great-great grandma

But listen as I write

the quiet

of my heart

as the beats wind down

as the dawn

has finally won over the night 

and my meager mind

simple as a leaf

sits in a complex

pile of mulch

the deterioration

breaks me down

My two eyes stare

into the vast ocean

recall each molecule

of sand that slipped through

Write it you fool

All My Months of Forever

Every cigarette I swore was my last

that dang cat 

you swung it by its tail so hard

rendered it vertigo-ridden 

for the rest of its measly lives

back then all you did wrong was twist up that cat

would have been so easy to declare you a good soul

Winded now

from just a flight of steps – just one damn flight

you said I was a monster

yet you endlessly wanted to be with me

hence, we birthed the monster together

slipped into its asylum

a toke here and there

on some good marijuana

we spiraled into the Cadillac of drugs

We died some nights

straddled together in an agony so great 

it gives me chills dare I think about it

death is good for you – remember you said that?

it’s good to come back alive and on fire

I came back with one eye and dimwitted

I came back with a limp

I came back with a burned neck

I saw the stars spray

over an archipelago 

in a swoon 

during one of my deaths

I’m sure it was Jesus

That battered black cat long since dead

you – now homeless and a smell 

caked so deep 

you cannot be cleansed

I waited for Jesus under that moon

naked and busted up

it took all those months of forever

it took all nine lives of that wretched cat

He came for me

barely recognizable

me – not Jesus

(I’d know Jesus if I was deaf 

blind or headless)

when you were high as fuck

pouring lighter fluid on his beautiful white loincloth

I scrambled behind with a bucket of water

Jesus remembered

I Wanted Virgil

Same dream again and again

I trudge to the edge overlooking an immense blackened gorge

teeter and sway

will myself to step off 

my body in complete disagreement  

pushing myself with my mind

I flail myself over 

into the abyss 

then Virgil appears 

disappointed

worn and beaten 

from our grim replay 

I awake in time 

to swallow a scream

light a cigarette 

the orange glow soothes

yet my heart 

blows up 

On my nineteenth birthday 

we stood outside our building 

giggling in snow knee-deep

the heroin 

just started to flow

created magical art

on canvases we imagined 

in our personal heavens 

when she hurled her body over the roof

twelve floors 

the slow motion movie scene 

mesmerized us 

Her heart continued to beat

even after her body hit

we heard it – the beat 

a loud gong 

like a wildebeest being taken down 

not ready – the heart never ready 

defies all purpose 

simply because its primary desire 

is to beat 

The red-pink snow shaped a grave

around her twisted body 

and we – high as fuck

mourning like half-wits 

clumsily dipping and falling 

to lean together in some wrecked sadness 

or perhaps envy 

Virgil comes back 

pasty white 

stone-faced 

stares accusingly

annoyed that he 

is my chosen 

chaperone 

I awake again soaked with sweat 

still feel his rough ancient breath 

my heart dead

but the beating steadfast 

so violently alive 

Donna Dallas has appeared most recently in Beatnik Cowboy, Quail Bell Magazine and Fevers of the Mind.  She is the author of Death Sisters, her legacy novel, published by Alien Buddha Press. She has two chapbooks, Smoke and Mirrors, launched with New York Quarterly, and Megalodon, launched with The Opiate. Donna has served on the editorial team of Red Fez and NYQ. 

donnaanndallas@gmail.com

@DonnaDallas15 

Footprints in the Sand

I am lost between illusion and reality.

Footprints follow me in the cold sand.

No moon,

but I walk beneath a thousand stars.

Stars that light my path

as little fireflies pass by.

But none guide me home.

They scatter across the sky,

hinting at the wishes people keep close

to their hearts.

Which don’t always always come true.

Then dawn peaks over the mountains,

casting streaks of fire across the clouds.

Birds start singing.

Welcoming the sun.

I am no longer lost.

I see the night with its cold embrace

and its mirage.

I see the day with its clear sky

and its hustling trees.

Until the Last Memory

I seek solitude, to think in the quiet night,
Perhaps the memories will rise again,
Unfinished stories, wounds that haven’t healed,
Lingering quietly within my heart and mind.

Each step I take leaves a trace behind,
Dreams once bright, now dimmed and lost,
In the breeze, your voice gently lingers,
Awakening promises left unfulfilled.

I wander, unsure of where I’m healed,
Searching through the shadow of the past,
Though far away, I still hear you near,
And every night, it’s you I remember.

The words you whispered once so softly,
Like raindrops falling, then fading away,
I cannot forget them, though I try,
For the memories still bring their pain.

I though time would help me move on,
But the heart holds what it cannot erase,
The echoes of laughter and sorrow,
Bound to my soul, though I walk away

A journey of healing, a long, winding road,
Where the wounds are slow to close,
I cannot escape the weight of it all,
As the past keeps its hold on me.

So, I remain here, caught in this space,
Where your name lingers like a shadow.
Until the day the memories fade,
Or until I am free to let them go.

But tonight, I stand still, quietly waiting,
For the time when the heart learns to heal,
Until then, I hold on to what remains,
And remember you in the silence of my soul.

John Angelo D. Camomot is a private school teacher in the Philippines. He holds a Bachelor’s degree in Secondary Education, majoring in Filipino. Currently, he is pursuing and studying a Master’s degree in Filipinology – Language, Culture, and Arts at the Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Marikina.

HOPE NEVER BURNS!

To that land of blue fairy where the moon smiles
I 'll go wearing my favourite suit in this green earth
Where the assembly of flowers smile sprightly
And the silver vine blooms with diamond buds 
Where in a forest a golden bird brings ecstasy
In a boat made of floating clouds drifting along the sky
Where hope never burns and the lotus never cries
Life on earth full of separation and union is never a dream
Built with truth and dreams, disillusioned by the dreams only
Fooled by the deceptive truth, crush me not like a flower.


MORE THAN EVER BEFORE!

The Goddess of purity you are to me
I do hatch pain and my pleasure as well
My sleep often breaks for the first time
And I see the morn by rubbing my eyes
The sun light becomes brighter with you 
My day rises from behind the thin clouds 
The moonlight soothes with all the grace
My vibrant mood is hiding nearby me 
If you met me, sadness would be mine
I would console you though I'm broken 
My stars break to start falling nonstop 
I want your novice heart more and more
It incubates in me more than ever before.

GRIEF FOR THE LIFE TIME!

Walking alone, I did come across you
It poured and you got lost somewhere 
As if a dream had passed away from me
And it's a bit hard to forget you now
Just in a moment you became my life
Then you gave grief for the life time
On the rainy night my heart was broken 
I remember your wet face looking great 
You have never gone through memories 
I feel like feeling you here this evening 
As you and the very weather used to be
My journey of love caught the evil eyes
Tongue is silent though my heart breaks
You look happy and you are not mine.


I REMAIN SILENT!

Even if I remain silent without any word
Your love, face, and gaze'll grow & glow
I am witness to your love, downcast eyes
And all your grace indicates the depth
Someone has stolen your heart & mind
Whenever the swirl of your hair falls
Even more beautiful you look, like a fairy
With cherubic smile I read in the books 
I cherish to stay forever only in your soul
In mind and bosom, arm and embrace
And in your eyes & memories unlimited.

Biography of the Author

Dr. Prasana Kumar Dalai
(DOB 07/06/1973) is a passionate Indian Author-cum- bilingual poet, while a tremendous lecturer of English by profession in the Ganjam district of Odisha. He is an accomplished source of inspiration for the young generation of India. His free verse on romantic and melancholic poems are appreciated by everyone. He belongs to a small, typical village, Nandiagada of Ganjam District, the state of Odisha. After schooling, he studied intermediate and graduated from Kabisurjya Baladev Vigyan Mahavidyalaya, then M A in English from Berhampur University, PhD in language and literature, and D.Litt. from the Colombian Poetic House from South America. He promotes his specific writings around the world literature and trades with multiple stems related to current issues based on his observation and experiences that need urgent attention. He is an award-winning writer who has achieved various laurels from the circle of writers worldwide. His free verse poems not only inspire young readers but also the readers of the current time. His poetic symbol is right now inspiring others, some of whom are appreciated by laurels of India and across the world. Many of his poems have been translated into different Indian languages and have received global appreciation. Lots of well wishes for his upcoming writings and success in the future. He is an award-winning poet and author of many best-selling books. Recently, he was awarded the Rabindranath Tagore and the Gujarat Sahitya Academy for the year 2022 from Motivational Strips. A gold medal from the World Union of Poets, France & winner of Rahim Karim's World Literary Prize 2023. The government of Odisha's Higher Education Department appointed him as the president of the Governing body of Padmashree Dr Ghanashyam Mishra Sanskrit Degree College, Kabisurjyanagar.Winner of " HYPERPOEM " GUNIESS WORLD RECORD 2023. Recently, he was awarded from the SABDA literary Festival in Assam. The highest literary honour from Peru, for contributing to world literature, 2024.Prestigious Cesar Vallejo award 2024 & Highest literary honour from Peru.Director at Samrat Educational Charitable Trust, Berhampur, Ganjam, Odisha.
Vicedomini of the world union of poets, Italy.
Completed 248 Epistolary poetry with Kristy Raines, USA.
Books.
1. Psalm of the Soul.
2.Rise of New Dawn.
3.secret Of Torment.
4.Everything I never told you.
5.Vision Of Life National Library Kolkata.
6.100 Shadows of Dream.
7.Timeless Anguish.
8.Voice of Silence.
9.I cross my heart from east to west . Epistolary poetry with Kristy Raines