Poetry from Lan Xin

441

When Your Heart Is Broken

Poem by Lan Xin (Lanxin Samei)

My dear

When your heart is broken

sad

grieving

disheartened

sobbing

At this very moment

you feel you have lost the whole world

thinking that person was your entire world

But in truth

they are nothing more

than a tiny ordinary soul in this vast universe

They are merely

someone who passed by your life

but was never meant to stay

My dear

you think

when they left

the world abandoned you

You believe

when they stopped loving you

the whole world stopped loving you too

But the truth is

your karmic bond has simply come to an end

They no longer belong to your world of love

Yet your world

still belongs entirely to you

Those who truly love you

still love you

and will love you forever

My dear

you feel the star of love has fallen

trapping you in a dark corner ——

  1. light
  2. hope

Your strength fades away

your heart is paralyzed

as if you can barely breathe

You walk forward alone lost and helpless

But trust me

their love for you was once real and deep

Their leaving

does not mean the love vanished

It only means

nothing in this world lasts forever

Perhaps

loving you was easy

but staying with you

was too difficult

My dear

that person was a shooting star

across the sky of your heart

The brief bright light

that once illuminated your soul ——

that is the beauty they brought into your life

Though the shooting star is gone

the sky of your heart still remains

It still holds the sun the moon and the stars

that will never leave you

never forsake you

And you too will live forever

in the purest most sacred corner of their heart ——

eternally

My dear

trust me

before long

someone new will come

They will take on the unfinished mission

rekindle the lamp of love in your heart

light up your path ahead

and warm the rest of your life with gentle enduring love ……

© 2026 Lan Xin (Lanxin Samei) All Rights Reserved

About Lan Xin

A world-renowned cultural figure, an internationally renowned writer of high-dimensional wisdom, poet and translator of China, winner of multiple international literary awards and outstanding international contribution honors, Ambassador of Great Love and Peace, the only female inheritor of UNESCO Memory of the World Dongba Culture, Dean of Dongba Culture Academy and Lanxin Samei Academy.

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Poetry from Yuldasheva Xadichaxon Bahodir qizi

            

       Longing…
In my heart, there are countless laments,
If I try to speak—who is there to listen?
With a painful melody, my soul burns,
Enough… my beloved remains in my memory.

Calling myself the cure to my own pain,
If I write strange verses in loneliness,
When I try to write, words fail my sighs,
Enough… my beloved remains in my memory,

From sorrow, flames spark within my heart,
My starry nights turn into day,
I miss you—who will feel my longing?
Enough… my beloved remains in my memory…                

My Beloved…

In sweet dreams, on the wings of my desires,
Like the moon’s embrace, immersed in endless joys.
You come shyly, with a gentle, hidden smile,
My love, created only to love me.

You are the cure to my heart, my sweetest voice,
Like the sun in the sky, spreading light above.
You are my happiness, my soul rejoices seeing you,
My love, created only to love me.

Like the fragrance of countless garden flowers,
Like the pure blue of the endless sea.
I loved you, my dear, just like Layli loved,

My love, created only to love me…

 Love…

If only you’d listen to my heart just once,
With hope it whispers, “I miss you, my love.”
Still, I go on living because of you,
A word that burns my soul — that word is love.

This heart longs for the day you came to me,
Its cries resound, yet swallow all its pain.
My yearning calls to you from far away,
A word that burns my soul — that word is love.

Why do hearts never escape their sorrow?
Why do these aching songs never fall silent?
Even in anguish, my heart seeks only you,
A word that burns my soul — that word is love.

Oh heart, it calls your name across the skies,
In heavens, in the moon, perhaps in air.
It searches always, even in melodies,
A word that burns my soul — that word is love.

I say “love”… but what is love itself?
A meeting of two gazes, or self-devotion?
Yet one thing I understood when I saw you —
You are my heart’s true cure… you are my love.  

Yuldasheva Xadichaxon Bahodir qizi was born on January 8, 1993, in Tashkent, in a family of intellectuals. She is passionate about literature, art, and science. Several of her literary articles have been published in international journals. She is a participant in international anthologies held in countries such as Turkey, Egypt, Azerbaijan, and India, including the “New Renaissance Students’ Almanac.”


She is the district-stage winner of the “Woman of the Year 2024” competition in the nomination “Best Creative Woman of the Year.” She has also participated in the “Followers of Behbudi” competition.
Currently, she is a third-year student majoring in Psychology at Tashkent University of Humanities.      

Poetry from Joseph Ogbonna

Napoleon’s Russia (1812)

I kick-started the motherland campaign 

to block trade routes to ebullient Albion.

I intended their resources to drain,

without the swift assault of a legion.

With half a million troops, I sought to subdue 

this vast wintry land of Europe’s far east.

Its plains shrank in my conqueror’s eye view,

whilst my dreams dwarfed it to my subdued list.

With valiant troops, I annexed the Kremlin.

For a score and sixteen days I held sway

until the scorched earth kept my troops at bay,

as Cossacks took their heavy toll with shelling.

My dreaded myth was by attrition tried,

as freezing plains did my grand armee embalm.

I did retreat as my lofty dreams died

with troops my own ambition did disarm.

Joseph C Ogbonna is a prolific poet, a former high school teacher, and an amateur historian. Some of his works have been published by Synchronized Chaos, Spillwords Press, Micromance, PoetryXhunger, Waxpoetry Magazine, Ihram, Borderless, Orenuag Journal, North of Oxford, all your poems and stories magazines.

He also has two self-published volumes to his credit. His poems ‘Napoleon to Josephine and Josephine to Napoleon,’ were aired by the BBC Radio 3 to mark the bicentenary of the death of Napoleon Bonaparte.

Poetry from J.J. Campbell

—————————————————————–

in a dumpster

a wet fart at three in the afternoon

a black woman taking advantage

of my kindness

a sunday driver on a thursday

40 in a 55, no place to pass

the mind drifts

lola by the kinks comes on

the radio

who hasn’t fallen for one

of those

the smell of burning rubber

another relic from the past

in a dumpster

hanging on to memories

that no one else wants

now on the highway

headed to somewhere even

less exciting

death just around the next

corner

ten more years to wait

never was any fucking

good at timing

——————————————————

the hamster

sometimes i feel like the hamster

that learned that fucking wheel

goes nowhere

wishing the water was actually

gin or vodka, maybe moonshine

and i really want to love

i really want to live

but all these years are conspiring

against me

too old for the obstacle course

too old to play these fucking

games

i’ll be over in the corner

ice on my back

shotgun ready for the

inevitable

save me or help me aim

each is an act of love

let that sink in

——————————————————

down to the bottom

sometimes the pain

becomes this anchor

dragging me down

to the bottom

all my friends are

down there

hide the needles

we start quoting kerouac

but no one wants to come

down from the mountain

someone pretends they

can play coltrane better

than anyone else

i tell the bartender to

cut that fucker off

give me all his drinks

eventually, i’ll slip

into the beyond

for a few minutes

embrace the nothingness

as the only thing that was

ever real

a broken kiss

and a final embrace

no such thing as goodbye

——————————————————

even the children

subtle beauty

lost in the wild lust

of a world trying to

die

no fucks given

no tomorrow ever

promised

even the children

can understand

impending doom

and all the beauty

can hear is laughter

never good enough

never loved enough

settled for one too

many one night stands

all just entries for a

diary no one ever

wanted to read

it all ends up in a

dive bar

snorting something

white just for kicks

a bourbon, a scotch

fuck, you know

the song

—————————————————-just a middle finger

no urgency in your kiss

reckless abandon has

left us all

a plea for help

in a world of

deaf ears

and sign language is more

than just a middle finger

somewhere burroughs puts

the apple on your head and

says it will all be over soon

enough

fucker won’t even cook

you up a shot

and this is what it is

one man’s tragedy is

some fucker’s delight

the tension so thick

you can taste it

your final escape

a lifetime of piss poor

choices

only a fool would ever

expect a better outcome

J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know where the bodies are buried. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at Yellow Mama, The Beatnik Cowboy, The Rye Whiskey Review, Night Owl Negative and Disturb the Universe Magazine. His most recent book, to live your dreams, published by Whiskey City Press, is available at Amazon.com. you can find it by clicking here: https://a.co/d/0frIpA15

Essay from Kobulova Madina

CONTEMPORARY RUSSIAN PROSE: IN SEARCH OF A NEW HERO

Jizzakh State Pedagogical University

Faculty of Philology

Major: Russian Language and Literature, Student of Group 723-24

Kobulova Madina

Abstract: This paper examines the problem of finding a new hero in contemporary Russian prose of the late 20th and early 21st centuries. The characteristic features of the central characters in works by leading authors of the period — Lyudmila Ulitskaya, Zakhar Prilepin, Viktor Pelevin, and Mikhail Shishkin — are analysed. Special attention is paid to the transformation of the hero’s image in the post-Soviet context, the loss of traditional value orientations, and the search for a new identity. The paper concludes that contemporary Russian prose reflects the spiritual and moral aspirations of society, offering a diversity of heroes, each of whom answers the question of the meaning of life in their own way.

Keywords: contemporary Russian prose, new hero, post-Soviet literature, character image, moral quest, identity, value orientations.

Main Body

Contemporary Russian prose occupies a special place in the global literary process. Shaped by the conditions of fundamental historical change — the collapse of the Soviet Union, the reassessment of national identity, and the rapid entry into an era of globalisation — it set itself fundamentally new artistic tasks. One of the most central among these was the question of the hero: who is he, the person of the new era? What values guide him? Is he capable of a genuine moral choice?

The study of this question is particularly relevant, since literature has always responded keenly to the demands of the age, offering readers models for reflection and spiritual orientation. Unlike Soviet literature, which imposed strict requirements upon the ‘positive hero’, prose of the turn of the 20th and 21st centuries rejects a single canon, granting the reader the right to judge the moral standing of characters for themselves.

Among the authors who have most vividly reflected the search for a new hero are Lyudmila Ulitskaya, Zakhar Prilepin, Viktor Pelevin, and Mikhail Shishkin. Each offers their own vision of the modern person, their place in society and their inner world. The heroes of Lyudmila Ulitskaya are people immersed in the world of private life, family relationships, and moral dilemmas. In the novels The Kukotsky Enigma (2001) and Daniel Stein, Interpreter (2006), the writer creates images of people seeking spiritual support amidst historical catastrophes. Her heroes are imperfect and contradictory, but it is precisely this that makes them vivid and recognisable. Ulitskaya affirms the value of ordinary human life as such, without grand declarations or ideological programmes.

Zakhar Prilepin, in his novel Sankya (2006), turns to the image of a young man seized by a thirst for action and a search for meaning in radical political protest. His hero is a product of an era of social disillusionment — stripped of former reference points and attempting to create new ones. Prilepin raises pointed questions about the relationship between the personal and the historical, and about the limits of what is permissible in the struggle for one’s convictions.

Viktor Pelevin chooses the path of postmodernist irony and mythologisation. His heroes — from Generation ‘P’ (1999) and Buddha’s Little Finger (1996) — exist in a space of simulacra, where reality is replaced by media images and advertising constructs. The search for a genuine ‘self’ becomes for them a quest through a labyrinth of illusions. Pelevin shows how consumer civilisation destroys the individual, reducing a person to a set of clichés.

Mikhail Shishkin, in his novels The Taking of Izmail (2000) and Maidenhair (2010), explores the possibilities of language as the last refuge from chaos. His heroes find themselves through the word — through the attempt to describe and thereby hold onto a reality that is slipping away. Time and memory become the key categories in his artistic world.

Thus, contemporary Russian prose does not offer a single model of the ‘new hero’, but it is precisely this diversity that constitutes its value. The heroes of Ulitskaya, Prilepin, Pelevin, and Shishkin are different answers to the same questions: who to be, how to live, what to believe in. Literature fulfils its eternal function — it helps a person to make sense of themselves and their time.

Conclusion

In the course of the study conducted, it was established that contemporary Russian prose of the late 20th and early 21st centuries actively participates in the process of forming new cultural and moral orientations. Analysis of works by L. Ulitskaya, Z. Prilepin, V. Pelevin, and M. Shishkin showed that the image of the hero in post-Soviet literature undergoes a profound transformation: the place of the monolithic ‘positive hero’ is taken by a contradictory, searching person who has frequently lost former values but has not ceased their spiritual quest.

The particular significance of contemporary prose lies in its capacity to reflect honestly, without embellishment, the reality of a transitional time. Themes of the loss of identity, existential loneliness, and the search for meaning in a world without ready-made answers prove to be close to a broad readership — primarily young people facing the same questions.

At the same time, the study showed that, for all the diversity of artistic strategies, contemporary authors remain faithful to the humanist tradition of Russian classical literature: at the centre of their attention is the person, their inner world, their capacity for compassion and moral choice. This allows us to assert that contemporary Russian prose does not break with the great literary tradition but continues it under new historical conditions.

References

  • Ulitskaya, L.E. The Kukotsky Enigma. — Moscow: Eksmo, 2001. — 448 p.
  • Prilepin, Z. Sankya. — Moscow: Ad Marginem, 2006. — 352 p.
  • Pelevin, V.O. Generation ‘P’. — Moscow: Vagrius, 1999. — 303 p.
  • Shishkin, M.P. Maidenhair. — Moscow: AST, 2010. — 352 p.
  • Nefagina, G.L. Russian Prose of the Late 20th Century. — Moscow: Flinta, 2003. — 320 p.
  • Leiderman, N.L., Lipovetsky, M.N. Contemporary Russian Literature: In 3 vols. — Moscow: Akademiya, 2001. — Vol. 3. — 256 p.
  • Chuprinin, S.I. Russian Literature Today: Life by Concepts. — Moscow: Vremya, 2007. — 768 p.

Poetry from Tursunova Mehrinoz Oybek qiz

Self-searching

He wandered lost, still searching for his soul,

Like one gone mad who’s lost his path and way.

His words can’t reach the depth he can’t control,

Like moths that play with fire and fade away.

Perhaps he’s lost within the mist so wide,

Or in the desert, weak and left alone.

Though truth within his heart he cannot hide,

No strength remains to take a step alone.

Did he go wrong along the roads he chose,

Or dreams misguided led his steps astray?

Or does he wonder, no one truly knows,

Why he has spent his precious life this way?

Perhaps he’ll write his story once again,

As if he sees the world for the first time.

He’ll paint each page with care, again and then,

Like writing on white paper, line by line.

He stands between two paths, unsure which way,

Tired of restless storms he feels inside.

Perhaps his place is somewhere far away,

Though still his heart has chosen here to bide.

O youth, awaken—do not drift too long,

Protect your heart, keep it both pure and strong.

When life confronts you, stand your ground, be strong,

For you are human—rise where you belong.

My name is Tursunova Mehrinoz Oybek qizi. I was born on February 28, 2005, in Andijan region. Currently, I am a third-year student at Andijan State Pedagogical Institute. I chose primary education because I enjoy working with children.

My favorite activities are reading books and learning languages. At the moment, I work as a Turkish language teacher. In my free time, I enjoy writing poems.

Poetry from Xasanova Aziza Kumushbek qizi

The Tongue of Pain

As an old proverb used to say:

“The dogs will bark — the caravan finds its way.”

The fault’s not theirs, don’t place the blame,

They bark along the road the same.

To stand up right is never light,

The world will push with all its might.

If fortune smiles and lifts you high,

They wound your heart and pass you by.

If you succeed, their faces fall,

In envy’s poison, trapped they crawl.

They whisper lies, both harsh and wild,

With tongues that stretch a mile and piled.

They bark and bark till they grow weak,

Then chase again the ones they seek.

No rest they find, no peace inside,

Still running with their wounded pride.

As Abdulla Oripov once wrote in pain:

“May grief not burn your soul in vain…

Yet bitterness will make you cry,

When caravans pass barking by.”

Xasanova Aziza Kumushbek qizi Uzbekistan