Dan’s Box In nineteen thirty-something, between the Depression and World War II, Dad built a small box, not big enough to call a chest or locker, from scraps of pine board, nailed together and screwed down with unnecessarily heavy hinges. He carved his name, Dan, into the lid, added a lock, and kept it under his bed to secure a few dollars and his precious boyhood possessions from his little brothers, Stanton and Wayne. Dan was also my first name, but never truly belonged to me. Dan of Daniel David, two strong Old Testament origins, Daniel of the lions’ den and David, the sensitive king of Israel and Judah. I was called David, Davy, or Dave unless I was “daddy’s little helper” that day on the Jet Quality Cleaners delivery route in which case I was often called Danny by those who assumed I was a diminutive version of my father. I was Davy when I was little as all the kids watched Davy and Goliath, a creepy Christian Sunday morning claymation. (There was no beheading of Goliath as he was Davy’s dog.) And on Saturday mornings there was Davy Jones from The Monkees TV show. I looked a bit like the very cute Davy Jones and the name Davy Jones made me think of Davy Jones’ Locker and pirates. Dad’s box looked as if it belonged to a swashbuckler who sailed the seven seas. In junior high school, I wanted girlfriends to call me Dave as it was much cooler for the brief time I was moderately and marginally popular. And to this day Dave is selected by those who don’t know me very well, attempting to be immediately chummy. I don’t correct anyone – unlike my acquaintances Robert (Bob) and Charles (Chuck). When Dad didn’t need the box anymore as now he was a grownup with a bank account, safety deposit box, and a wall safe in the bedroom, he gave it to me to put my things in. It was empty. I hoped it wasn’t, but filled with his things, the things that were important to him. I filled it with my own boyhood treasure, the beginning of accumulating possessions. Three arrowheads, one broken at the point, one crudely tooled, and one perfect, all found by Dad, not me in newly plowed fields after a rain. Five prehistoric shark teeth I found, not Dad, or so I liked to recollect, on the beach at Venice, Florida. It was more likely that Dad bought these along with shells and sand dollars in a cheap gift shop. A pair of gold, wire-rimmed spectacles which once belonged to a great grandparent, but no one told me which. A few walking liberty silver dollars – pure silver, Dad said. A tiny pouch filled with gold ore Dad brought back from one of his trips to Colorado. At the time he was trying one of several new business flops, in this case selling plots of land for a new subdivision west of Pueblo. Two two-dollar bills because Thomas Jefferson was my favorite president in third grade. A note from a girl claiming she liked me – also from third grade. Several inconsequential Army lapel insignia misplaced from uniforms at the dry cleaners. Later I wondered if any of these belonged to young men who were killed in Vietnam as I started my collection in the mid-1960s. Dad’s Ohio National Guard marksmanship badge which resembled a German Iron Cross a little too much, a decoration found around the necks of Nazis. One jumbo marble shooter, cracked, and five equally chipped cat eyes from the playground at Elmwood Elementary (I wasn’t very successful at marbles.) A skeleton key to a door of which I had no knowledge. Maybe it was Grandma and Grandpa’s extra key, but they wouldn’t need it as they left their doors unlocked knowing no one would want to rob their old farmhouse. And when they did rarely lock the door, they hung the key from a nail on a post on the porch where anyone could easily find it. Coins and brightly colored bills from the Bahamas from when Mom and Dad travelled there for a dry cleaners’ convention. A Saint Christopher’s medal from catechism, maybe First Communion, which I never wore because of how my enthusiastically evangelical protestant grandmother talked about Catholics. One pocketknife with a broken blade and one mini penknife meant for a key chain. And a fountain pen that, depending upon how it was tilted, the ink revealed the woman depicted on the side as either clothed or naked. All of this was locked up with a combination lock, the combination frequently lost or forgotten. And I often needed to ask Dad to open it as I could never get the turn-left-and-turn-right-past-the-last-number just right. I am not sure what became of Dan’s box. Despite filling my it, the box remained more Dan and Dad than Davy, Dave, or David. David Sapp, writer, artist, and professor, lives along the southern shore of Lake Erie in North America. A Pushcart nominee, he was awarded Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Grants for poetry and the visual arts. His poetry and prose appear widely in the United States, Canada, and the United Kingdom. His publications include articles in the Journal of Creative Behavior, chapbooks Close to Home and Two Buddha, a novel Flying Over Erie, and a book of poems and drawings titled Drawing Nirvana.
Visual poetry from Jerome Berglund
Jerome Berglund has worked as everything from dishwasher to paralegal, night watchman to assembler of heart valves. Many haiku, haiga and haibun he’s written have been exhibited or are forthcoming online and in print, most recently in bottle rockets, Frogpond, Kingfisher, and Presence. His first full-length collections of poetry Bathtub Poems and Funny Pages were just released by Setu and Meat For Tea press, and a mixed media chapbook showcasing his fine art photography is available now from Yavanika.
Poetry from Nahyean Taronno
Quota Reform: A Chorus of Change In Dhaka's heart, where dreams ignite, Students stood tall, their voices bright, "Equal chance!" they sang, eyes alight, Quota reform—a beacon in the night. Sunset hues embraced their plea, As hope danced wild, young and free, Shahbagh Square, where courage thrived, A melody of justice, dreams revived. Nahyean Taronno is a student of grade eight in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.
Poetry from Dr. Prasanna Kumar Dalai
DON'T EVER LOOK BACK! Me trying to find someone for my road To keep memory in your heart forever I earnestly wish to have you by my side Glide ahead in joyous stream of this life Keep chanting & smiling like a free bird Never let any grim thought tickle you The road ahead is calling you aloud Don't ever look back and let's proceed This sombre night'll pass as time ticks Don't let your hand slip away from mine Call me back if you feel like losing again. UNTOLD TALE OF MY HEART! You do know the untold tale of my heart At bottom linger all the unspoken words I could barely whisper them in my heart I stay awake all night along with the stars I gaze at the sky in utter lonesomeness My heart and soul resonate with solitude For it's impossible for me to forget you I've already left the whole world for you. EVEN IF I DIE! Why is life just a couple of moments Let me ask for more time from God I don't want to go far from you Every pain seems pleasant Your smile is my hope and strength Even if the world is cruel to me My safe heaven is in them My heaven is but in your lap My life is due to your heartbeats Your wishes are my prayers now What a unique bond ours is I'll come back to you only even if I die. MY SOULMATE! Without you this life'll be in utter despair We'll meet each other no matter what Like waves breaking together not to part Your tinkling anklets my music of heart You're my soulmate, so unique in world Let nothing obstructs our path forever May we always be found hand in hand From this cunning world I'll steal you I'll hide you in the corner of my heart In trouble I'll take care of you for sure. 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 young generation of India .His free verse on Romantic and melancholic poems 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 In Kabisurjya Baladev vigyan Mahavidyalaya then M A in English from Berhampur University PhD in language and literature and D.litt from Colombian poetic house from South America. He promotes his specific writings around the world literature and trades with multiple stems that are related to current issues based on his observation and experiences that needs urgent attention. He is an award winning writer who has achieved various laurels from the circle of writing worldwide. His free verse poems not only inspires young readers but also the ready of current time. His poetic symbol is right now inspiring others, some of which are appreciated by laurels of India and across the world. Many of his poems been translated in different Indian languages and got global appreciation. Lots of well wishes for his upcoming writings and success in the future. He is an award winning poet author of many best seller books. Recently he is awarded Rabindra nath Tagore and Gujarat Sahitya Academy for the year 2022 from Motivational Strips . A gold medal from world union of poets France & winner Of Rahim Karims world literary prize 2023.The government of Odisha Higher Education Department appointed him as a president to Governing body of Padmashree Dr. Ghanashyam Mishra Sanskrit Degree College, Kabisurjyanagar. Winner of " HYPERPOEM " GUNIESS WORLD RECORD 2023. Recently he was awarded from SABDA literary Festival at Assam. Highest literary honour from Peru contributing world literature 2024.Prestigious Cesar Vellejo award 2024 Completed 200 Epistolary poems with American poet Kristy Raines. 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
Poetry from Elmaya Jabbarova
A Rainbow of Emotions It rains, then the blue sky becomes beautiful, The painting of a skilled artist is offended, resentful, The hand of nature draws a colorful rainbow This masterpiece is blessed, everyone who sees it is blessed. Emotions are like rainbows in the sky, Each color gives its meaning to a person's state of mind. Creates resonance, affects the mood, He wanders in his soul, dominates his existence. The rainbow is a miracle, it has a scientific basis, The limit sunbeam, in the drop of rain, Changing colors over time, Bends in an arc-shaped viewing angle. How many times during the day do feelings, emotions, As if it is raining on the heart, it brings sadness and longing, Wherever the sun reaches, it brings happiness. It brings a bright insight to see the joy of life. Elmaya Jabbarova was born in Azerbaijan. She is a poet, writer, reciter, and translator. Her poems were published in the regional newspapers «Sharginsesi», «Ziya», «Hekari», literary collections «Turan», «Karabakh is Azerbaijan!», «Zafar», «Buta», foreign Anthologies «Silk Road Arabian Nights», «Nano poem for Africa», «JuntosporlasLetras 1;2», «Kafiye.net» in Turkey, in the African's CAJ magazine, Bangladesh's Red Times magazine, «Prodigy Published» magazine. She performed her poems live on Bangladesh Uddan TV, at the II Spain Book Fair 1ra Feria Virtual del Libro Panama, Bolivia, Uruguay, France, Portugal, USA.
Short story from Nosirova Gavhar
Love left in the depths of the void The night is plunged into darkness. The quiet city was disturbed by the rushing sound of a car moving with flashing lights in the distance. The door was opened and a young man was brought in who was seriously injured in a car accident. Doctors immediately ordered someone to find a donor to give him a kidney and blood. They called the number that was made after the bloodied phone of the young man and informed them that they would come to the hospital immediately. In no time, a beautiful girl with bowed eyebrows, bright eyes, and plump lips came rushing in. Doctors: - Who will you be to the patient? - His future wife. What happened? - His condition is serious. A kidney and blood donor is needed. Time is very little. The girl’s color was pale, blood was running out of her face. She leaned against the wall, deep in thought, and left a letter in the patient’s room around dawn. After some time, a donor was found and the young man was operated on. By God’s grace, everything went well. The next day, when the young man opened his eyes, «didn’t anyone come?» he asked. One of the doctors said «she left you a letter». The young man opened the letter and read: «I was very sad to hear. But this accident separated us from each other. It’s a pity. Now our paths are different. Take care,» it was written. The young man was deep in thought, thinking that maybe she didn’t want to stay with me in this state. Days passed. The young man’s condition improved, and when he left the hospital, he said «thank you» to the doctors. When the doctor was coming back following the young man, the faces inside the door were pale, the eyes were filled with sadness, the girl’s delicate hands were showing the doctor a sign of silence on her dry lips. While doctor was watching with tears to girl, doctor felt deep in her heart that the calm sea was flooding today and becoming colorless….. Nosirova Gavhar was born on August 16, 2000 in the city of Shahrisabz, Kashkadarya region of Uzbekistan. Today, she is a third-year student of the Faculty of Philology of the Samarkand State University of Uzbekistan. Being a lover of literature, she is engaged in writing stories and poems. Her creative works have been published in Uzbek and English. In addition, she is a member of «All India Council for Development of Technical Skills», «Juntosporlasletras» of Argentina, «2DSA Global Community». Winner of the «Korablznaniy» and «TalentyRossii» contests, holder of the international C1 level in the Russian language, Global Education ambassador of Wisdom University and global coordinator of the Iqra Foundation in Uzbekistan. «Magic pen holders» talented young group of Uzbekistan, «KayvaKishor», «Friendship of people», «Raven Cage», «The Daily Global Nation», Argentina;s «Multi Art-6», Kenya’s «Serenity: A compilation of art and literature by women» contains creative works in the magazine and anthology of poets and writers.
Poetry from Faleeha Hassan
You want me to forget you? Easy Force my eyes to look at things without seeing the sparkle of your smile Wipe from my hair the tenderness of your touch Remove the warmth of your hugs from my cold arms Teach your name not to slip from my tongue when I speak to someone else Yes, Find another beat for my heart And I will disappear like a snowflake when it touches warm ground If I didn’t love you, would I survive? Regardless of the fact that I will die like everything on this Earth And my body will become fertilizer for the trees Or Some of it will stick in the tires of cars Or Maybe hungry birds will crave pieces of meat and attack my body with their beaks I will become abandoned rubble Brooms will kick me from one garbage can to another I say: Despite all the bad thoughts that may grow in my head If I didn’t love you, would I survive? Faleeha Hassan is a poet, teacher, editor, writer, and playwright born in Najaf, Iraq, in 1967, who now lives in the United States. Faleeha was the first woman to write poetry for children in Iraq. She received her master's degree in Arabic literature, and has now published 26 books, her poems have been translated into English, Turkmen, Bosnian, Indian, French, Italian, German, Kurdish, Spain, Korean, Greek, Serbia, Albanian, Pakistani, Romanian, Malayalam, Chinese, ODIA, Nepali and Macedonian language. She is a Pulitzer Prize Nominee for 2018, and a Pushcart Prize Nominee for 2019. She's a member of the International Writers and Artists Association. Winner of the Women of Excellence Inspiration award from SJ magazine 2020, and the Winner of the Grand Jury Award (the Sahitto International Award for Literature 2021). She served on the Women of Excellence selection committees for 2023, was a winner of a Women In The Arts award in 2023 and a Member of Who's Who in America 2023. She's on the Sahitto Award's judging panel for 2023 and a cultural ambassador between Iraq and the US.