Sculptor Arm
Michelangelo Buonarotti
was the third SCULPTOR
To tackle
the Carrera Marble,
That huge block of Carrera Marble,
He who saw spirit in stone,
Who knew that every stone
Has a statue inside it,
And from his pounding,
Chipping, shaping
Relentlessly gave life to
DAVID—
Six tons, and 17 feet tall
DAVID
A symbol of strength
Poise,
Confidence
DAVID
Facing the challenges
Of life.
The first artists gave up—
Too hard, too many
Imperfections--
But Michelangelo Buonorotti,
Only a baby when they abandoned it,
Twenty-five Years later
Took up the chisel, took up the task
With an arm indomitable
That pounded the stone
To completion.
To perfection—
Sculptor Arm!
Random Musings about Submission
By Jacques Fleury
[Originally published in Jacques Fleury’s book You Are Enough: The Journey to Accepting Your Authentic Self]
Let’s just begin in
medias res…or in the middle of things…
You see, we had artistic differences,
I was the artist and they were indifferent…
“Thank you for your submission…” but I never
Submitted!
At least not in the way that they wanted me to;
If I wasn’t fiscally challenged, I would board a jet plane
And head for a luge run at Saint Moritz Switzerland,
A psychotically dangerous sport;
Maybe they’ve driven me to psychosis!
Luge, a sport rooted in Germanic tribal wars against the Romans;
Bored aristocrats on vacation looking for a distraction;
Although I am distracted by my own tribal war here in America,
I am nothing like a bored and puerile aristocrat…
This landed me in a mawkish quagmire of self-pity;
In my mind I absconded into a journey of devilment to topple my torment;
Writing can be an exercise in discernment that you are inevitably
Obliged to submit for judgment; that is if you expect to make
An impact other than justifying your own derangement due to
Maladjustment…
“Your writing is not a good fit for our publication” was the nadir of my existence!!!
What did I write to warrant such specious offerings you may ask?
Well I wrote from the voice of an ignoble omnivorous muskrat
Whose sexual identify is non-binary;
Both a strumpet and a sthumpet!
And as an exponent of socio-political justice wrote hither and thither
An apocalyptic reverie about mutant muskrats;
A germane allegory or political fodder for the purpose of unveiling
pejorative prejudice;
Deciding to introduce a foreign element into an established
Yet insecure environment so to demonstrate the ensuing behavior
Of those who deem themselves superior;
The muskrat representing the only POC or person of color
In an all-white order where WASPS Rule!
WASPS being descendants of
Wealthy Anglo-Saxon Protestant Males
Feeling their long history of imposing their cultural values and
Socio-political power over “the other” that is
women and minorities…
Threatened by a neo-progressive era geared towards changing the status quo;
Clamping down on their suppression in retaliation to the
Nascent and unrelenting movement towards socio-political
And economic progression and equality
In this American Nation!
“Thank you for your submission
But your work is not a good fit for our publication…”
Really?!
So here I am, randomly musing about not being chosen…
Am I just a titular poet?
A deuteragonist in my own story?
When do I get to be the protagonist hero despite my AFRO?!
When do I get to be the plucky character in epics akin to
19th century iconoclastic South African king Shaka Zulu whose heroic story depicted
How he united tribal factions to create notable states and powerful African identities…or even
Anglo-Saxon and French epics like Beowulf together with Le Chanson De Roland?
Or even the archetypal Mesopotamian great:
The Epic of Gilgamesh;
Regarded as the earliest prototypical literature and the second oldest religious text…
“Your submission is not on par with our vision…”
Really?!
Even in the midst of global
Dissention and division?!
So we had artistic differences…I was the artist and they were indifferent.
But I decided to muse about it to manufacture
My own moment,
Fashion my own non-contentious and all-inclusive literary faction,
Where ALL postulatory voices are worthy of publication;
Because the acrimony of exclusivity is
A damnation!
I will continue to submit but NEVER to their behest for
Submission!!!
Jacques Fleury’s book You Are Enough: The Journey Towards Understanding Your Authentic Self
Keys to the Universe
If you are kind and don't ask for anything in return
If someone else's success makes you happy like your own
If you control and manage to convert anger, envy and jealousy,
so that they don't go against yourself,
and you conquer your mind again and again,
happiness smiles at you.
The keys of heaven are not unattainable, in the sky above,
everything on Earth is visible and meaningful to those
who have the sight to see more clearly.
There is a large and living organism
where every part is equally important.
Whoever extends a hand of respect
without expecting fame and earthly recognition,
everything comes as a gift anyway
and not because of personal merit,
will be celebrated among people.
The keys to the Universe exist,
not to be selfishly hidden in a pocket,
but to open the doors of many locked hearts with them.
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 shealso is a member of the Poetry club "Area Felix" in Serbia.
That is, in English. Wherever and whenever the problems of the blind are discussed, the main topic is the lack of Braille books and textbooks. It aims to help (blind) children master the English language thoroughly. The following are the specific achievements of the manual: ensures mastery; the publication of the dictionary in Braille helps the reader to read and write words by hand, and to understand easily by listening to the audio CD attached to the book.
Publishing textbooks for the visually impaired still remains a problem. Another challenge is whether the textbooks are being printed based on their ability. Are they interested?
According to statistics, there are 39 million blind people in the world. Another 200 million people are partially blind. Advanced technologies offer new opportunities for them.
In December 2020, in Uzbekistan, students of boarding schools underwent a special medical examination within the framework of the “Kongil Kozi” project. The author of the project is the deputy chairman of the Board of Trustees of the National Mass Media Support and Development Public Fund Saida Mirziyoyeva. Within the framework of the project, textbooks in Braille were published, a computer center specialized in the needs of blind and visually impaired children was created, the technical base of all boarding schools was developed, and other small projects have been implemented.
We need to create textbooks for the blind to thoroughly study foreign languages using new methods. As a solution to the existing problem, we are working on the development of elementary intermediate English textbooks. It consists of two parts, a dictionary book and a conversation book. In addition, there is a disk version of the book and a program version. We named the book “Ilm bu -nur”. It uses one of the methods that are becoming popular all over the world, the “minimonics” method.
The dictionary contains 800 words. It is created based on their physiological condition, and they can learn to speak quickly and easily from this book. Another convenience is that it is given in Braille, English, and Uzbek languages. There is also a disk and software option. and they are currently being worked on. The minimonic method is a method that encourages the child to think and think freely, and the difference from other methods is that it allows the child to learn a lot in a short time. It also helps to identify taste.
According to psychologists, a child understands 75% of things by sight, this statistic is definitely for healthy children. However, in this textbook, we want to introduce the art of drawing with dots. The method of understanding pictures by feeling we need to deepen it. Depending on the age of the blind child, we can convey the necessary knowledge to him through levels using this method. Our goal is to simplify language learning among blind people, to help them get international and national certificates, and to provide them with a job in the future.
Sadoqat Beg’amova, an author in the Republic of Uzbekistan.
Aweary
Aweary with the dirt
that amasses at the doorsteps of multiple nations,
the trash of treaties, conventions, and dialogues
in assemblies that spew out noisome speeches,
the tedium of eloquence
that has been evolving since the extinction of Dinosaurs
and other pre-historic creatures,
when heavy clubs and hand-held rocks
gave way to more refined ways of resolving
territorial grievance.
Terrorized
Terror now runs in our veins
like electric currents that are ordained
for the God-forsaken and the condemned insane.
We daily anticipate the predicted forecast
of tremors, volcanic eruptions, or some devastating gales
that bring everlasting perdition in its inevitable wake.
Our homes have become gossamer
in the breath of raging warfare.
Stars are dragons to be heeded
and clouds are ominous bearers of pain.
They have injected terror into our brains,
each nerve resonating to a parody of the end of times,
prescribed to every indignant homo sapien.
2024
It is only the second of January
and I am already bed-ridden,
unable to move a limb or lift an eyelid.
I had mumbled something on the phone
that made my brother nearly have a car accident.
The search for a doctor immediately commences
since I rarely fall ill.
Nausea makes it impossible for me to suck
a single sip of my favorite drink.
I feel my grip on life fast loosening,
but there is no white light beckoning
or a flower-strewn tunnel
at the end of which stands the welcoming dead.
The mask-less doctor is reluctant to pinpoint the culprit.
‘Is it the new Corona?’ I faintly ask.
2024 has just unwrapped its miscellaneous gifts.
If They
If they condemn ongoing butcheries in the Holy Land,
they are instantly accused of hate crimes,
of embracing anti-Semitism with a godly might,
but fortunately they happen to be Semites
and there is no way they could turn against themselves.
If they speak against the atrocities of Zionism,
they’re branded with the ugliest forms of racism,
but they are not the ones who inherited an apartheid
that persecuted the Irish, red, and black.
If they invoke the help of Almighty God
to send Archangel Michael to battlefields
to support the persecuted in an occupied land,
fanaticism is the final verdict.
Spring Twilight Porch clear Sky Moon Above
Spring twilight porch clear sky moon above.
Son, said Father.
The boy looked up.
Know how we all walk upright on two feet? Not on all fours?
The boy lightly nodded.
Most don’t know this; we didn’t always walk that way. Back at the beginning the first of us walked on all fours. But; somehow some command from on high came, to rise from all fours, and walk on just two. Seems simple, eh, right? Yes, but—even back then, humans never could get anything done without a big noisy debate. One morning they found that new two limbed rule had been posted on a wall in the middle of the night.
They stood sleepy-eyed, quietly regarding this, until the loudest mouth among them shouted, Okay, here! Let’s do it—here’s how—and they tried standing on their right arm and right leg, and, promptly fell over, failed. But, even before that failure, others were shouting over them, saying, No, no, no, that’s no good! Its like this—and tried their left arms and left legs, and, also fell over. Some few stubbornly tried those failed ways again and again and fell again and again, as yet others closed in, shouting, No, no, no, no—it’s this way! Right arm, and left leg, see? See—uh, wait, I—and as they fell over, yet more rushed in, crying no no shut up everyone, here; left arm, and right leg, see? See?
And the turmoil grew faster, and louder, and hotter, until a voice shot clear, higher and louder than the rest, crying, This! Two hands! Look here! On two hands, yes! Look how tall! Yes so tall! And I am not falling! This is the way! So, they all tried to leap onto their hands. Some could not do it—but most were able to, and—these were in the majority, so—they agreed! Yes! They agreed—this is the way!
Until, as they learned to do it longer, heads began reddening, eyes began bulging, and pressure began building, and they--they had to let go. Yes, had to—to fall over. But, this being the best solution so far, and one they’d all agreed on, they kept trying—and trying—and getting nowhere. But some learned to do it longer, but—they found the prolonged rushing of blood to their brains was not healthy. Some sickened. Some died. How many? Oh, who’s counting—before at last one let go, fell down, and by chance, rolled over and shot up to standing, solidly on their feet!
Look! They cried—look! Here’s the way! Here’s the way! And they all followed.
And that problem was solved—and that was that! Now, isn’t that something, son? I think that’s really something. Don’t you?
Looking down, he saw his son, calmly relaxed, asleep.
It had worked.
They went inside.
Rejoicing in the LordFor: Olga Shearer
Psalm: 34:3 (NIV)- “Glorify the LORD with me;
let us exalt his name together.”
My soul sings to the Lord, as the sun rise your closeness comes.
I kneel at the foot of my bed and praise you Lord with joy.
What a delightful song my heart sings in gladness to know you.
I turn to you for you have healed my troubled soul by your love.
Rejoicing in my salvation from the heaviness of a broken heart.
Now there is gladness that I have come to know of your redemption.
I once was lost in the mist of pain and sadness for I had no hope.
You spoke to me and give me hope by the gleam in your eyes.
Your voice was soft, and your heart had warmth for my aching soul.
My weary bones would have been crushed if not for your gentleness.
I turned to you for comfort and found rest and I rejoiced
A pillow to lay my head and rest a weary mind to be restored.
My soul delighted in your salvation for all my sins were forgiven.
