Ishmurotova Sabrina Sarvar qizi
A little girl who missed her daddy
She is a child, but there is no childhood,
There are no exuberances, no masculinity.
Her heart hurts so much
A little girl who missed her dad .
Seeing her mother secretly crying
Her heart troubles again.
She can't tell anyone about her suffering
A little girl who missed her dad.
Hugging her dad's pictures
"I miss you dad", - she says.
A girl who didn't see mercy from Father
Why does she miss him so much?
A little girl of six-year-old
Listening to her longings, you say: "Ohhh!"
O, people, tell me what is going on
Listening to it, you will be feeble.
There are so many tiny hearts in the world
I don't know, how many at the moment.
But, a girl who missed her daddy
Don't cry from longing anymore
One day, you will be very happy
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a glorious death
mice in the attic
where is the hole
here comes the
nightmares at
three in the
morning
lucid dreams of
a glorious death
but you can't help
but wonder if you
are jack ruby instead
sixty years later
and no one wants
the truth
what if our own lives
are a conspiracy
that would make
as much sense as
god or the big bang
theory being on every
channel known to man
otis redding is on
the radio now
a little slice of the truth
---------------------------------------------------------
face the world alone
first hard freeze
winter will soon
be here
it gets harder
every year to
face the world
alone
the songs get
sadder
the days move
along at a snail's
pace
you don't have
the guts for the
shotgun in the
corner
or the brains to
get yourself out
of this situation
determined to
simply run out
the clock
a red x for every
remaining day
--------------------------------------------------------
the entire bottle
everyone ordered
a fruity wine
i asked for the
strongest bottle
of liquor they
had
the entire bottle sir?
you see what
these clowns
are drinking
yes, the entire bottle
they wanted a light
evening to go over
quarterly notes
i wanted to be
either dead or
somewhere else
110 proof with
a glass of ice
i had no interest
in the glass
there was a reason
i enjoyed working
remotely so damn
much
-------------------------------------------------------------------
to see the trees
the leaves are
changing colors
summer trying
to hang on
of course, it will
probably snow
next week
i can remember
going miles and
miles as a child
to see the trees
now, just go on
youtube and watch
a few videos
the way we are
destroying the
earth
those videos might
be the only way the
future generations
will understand what
we once had
------------------------------------------------------
struggling to find a meal
swimming in treacherous
waters
another warm day in
early november
leaves piling up
on the streets
stray cats struggling
to find a meal
the last love of my life
has said goodbye and
the shotgun in the corner
gets more appealing by
the day
a misunderstanding
becomes the edge
of a knife
hope is the last dancer
for the night
you ever wonder why
the tornado spared a
place like this
apparently, mother nature
also knows how to work
a pole
J.J. Campbell (1976 - ?) is stuck in the suburbs, wondering where all the lonely housewives have gone. He's been widely published over the years, most recently at Dumpster Fire Press, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Asylum Floor and The Beatnik Cowboy. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)
Yet twinkling lights were seen flying near and free
Fireflies are so gentle to keep you company
Don’t be afraid, you’re never alone even in the dark
Don’t be afraid though your eyes seem blind
Don’t be afraid though you feel lost and cold
Don’t be afraid of being alone in the dark
You are never alone, just wait and believe
Don’t be afraid, you are protected. Don’t you see?
Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa was born January 14, 1965, in Manila, Philippines. She has worked as a retired Language Instructor, interpreter, caregiver, secretary, product promotion employee, and private therapeutic masseur. Her works have been published as poems and short story anthologies in several language translations for e-magazines, monthly magazines, and books; poems for cause anthologies in a Zimbabwean newspaper; a feature article in a Philippine newspaper; and had her works posted on different poetry web and blog sites. She has been writing poems since childhood but started on Facebook only in 2014. For her, Poetry is life and life is poetry.
Lilian Kunimasa considers herself a student/teacher with the duty to learn, inspire, guide, and motivate others to contribute to changing what is seen as normal into a better world than when she steps into it. She has always considered life as an endless journey, searching for new goals, and challenges and how she can in small ways make a difference in every path she takes. She sees humanity as one family where each one must support the other and considers poets as a voice for truth in pursuit of equality and proper stewardship of nature despite the hindrances of distorted information and traditions.
Measurement of life according to the scribes
All of us have been granted the invaluable gift of life by the Almighty. Each person must decide how to use it. You should expect to experience
a variety of difficulties throughout your life pathways. We ought to make to the most of the possibilities that are given to us. Life shouldn’t be wasted on pointless things. Every second that goes by is an integral aspect of human existence.
It will be a witness to a person’s gain or loss on the Day of Judgment. Therefore, a Muslim should manage his time like a savvy businessman.
I have no issue with advising all scientific students to read ‘’The Value of Time in the Eyes of
Scholars’’ in order to be able to manage their time wisely and utilize it efficiently.
This book exhorts the reader to seize each moment as it comes. When a genius rests,
They rehash what they have written and the information they had learned since they were so absorbed in what they were doing.
Time is not a fabric that can be created; rather, it is an opportunity that comes along only once.
‘’Each day that begins calls out: ‘O son of man, I am a new day, I am a witness of your deeds,
Take advantage of me. If I pass away, I will not return until the Day of Resurrection, ‘’remarked
Hasan Basriy, may God have mercy on him.
Time is precious.
Marjona Murad’s daughter Abdurazokova. On July 1, 2007, she was born in the Tashkent region. She is currently a ninth-grade general secondary school student.
They are dishonoured who snatch away the Sleep from innocent people
By envy and egoism of Bayonets,
Who bereave others others from their rights Under the knee of their dirty power,
Who made helpless mortally every corner of
Beloved land.
Until now salty blood smell of thirty lakhs
Bengali floating on air.
Lanes and by lanes, killing fields stand on eyes
With crying of grave silence
Repainting with blessings of memorial.
Across the world holy child of bestial sperm,
Blooming war child carries tearless lament of
Desolate Heroine. Think of,
WHO knows the gruesomeness of war than us!
So, we don’t want war but peace in the globe.
Avoiding starvation with sufferings from the Debris of burnt peace house
Today we are fifty two years old.
In this 52nd Victory Day of Bangladesh, at this Assemblage I am a petty representative
Who am sending peace message to you all
Of the world, a letter with red alphabet and Green envelop of friendship is being delivered To every home of world village.
Today,16 December, in our Victory Day, I wish
A leader of pure soul to come back with calling
Of magical voice of generous life like Mujib in
The persecuted land of earth.
Wishing them to wake up of wounded and Moribund lives for fighting of Independence.
Wishing them to sing a song of freedom.
One day, the earth will give shiver with pandemic of peace.
Aklima Ankhi is a poet, storyteller and translator from Cox’sbazar, Bangladesh. Born in Mymensingh, Bangladesh. She has a published poetry named “Guptokothar Shobdochabi” written in Bangla. She is a post graduate in English Literature. As a profession she is a Lecturer in English.
We all know that the twenty-first century has evolved into an era of technology. Both young and old people are holding cell phones. It’s a terrible situation. After all, this is detrimental to young people’s futures. Not just children, but also adults… Parents are glued to their phones when they get home from work. They don’t care about their children’s future because they don’t care about their children. Instead of learning, young people spend their days staring at their phones. Unfortunately, not all information found online is helpful, and not everyone utilizes it properly. This poses a serious threat to the nation’s future. Parents should first rectify themselves in order to stop this. It is essential to be concerned about his future and to support his decisions. It is a good idea to set up all the necessary circumstances for them to fall in love with reading and to congratulate them when they finish a particular book or assignment. Children are like flowers, my dear and beloved parents. Be sure to look after it. You will then see positive effects.
Marjona Murad’s daughter Abdurazokova. On July 1, 2007, she was born in the Tashkent region. She is currently a ninth-grade general secondary school student.
