YOU SAID

 

You said;

I will leave!

I will remove the seed of your image from my eyes

And plant it in the hard land of oblivion.

The shine from pupils will easily squirm, 

like a fish from palms.

 

I stood like a tree with many branches

abandoned by birds

and their nests.

 

I'm getting used to it

like earth's ground on dead bodies -

to your headless 

words.

 

Azemina Krehić was born on October 14, 1992 in Metković, Republic of Croatia.

Winner of several international awards for poetry, including:

Award of university professors in Trieste, 2019.,

„Mak Dizdar“ award, 2020.

Award of the Publishing Foundation of the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, 2021.

„Fra Martin Nedić“ Award, 2022.

She is represented in several international anthologies of poetry.

April

 

April has long fingerprints on the window

The girl climbs up to the soft cheekbones

Across furrows touched by life

It is morning and freedom smells at the top visible to the inner stumbling

Enchanting flowers will bloom from the fingers,

and smells flow instead of blood

But despite the joy of the will,

her body doesn't recognize the arms that hug her.

 

 

Emina Đelilović-Kevrić (Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina) 

After studying the b/h/s (bosnian/croatian/serbian) language and literature at the Philoshopical Faculty in Zenica she got her master's degree on the subject "Memory construction in the South Slavic interlinear community: typical models of the war camp experience in literature“. She is the author of the poetry collection "This time without history“ and the short stories collection "Erased lives."

Her collection of poems "My son and I“ is awarded by the Publishing Foundation of Bosnia and Herzegovina in 2021. In 2022 she won the second place in the international literature competition "Isnam Taljić“. She is the winner of the second award for the best short story of the regional literature competition "Zija Dizdarević“ 2022, and she won the first place on international literature competition "Nastavi priču“ in 2023. She won a third place on the international poetry competition "Ossi di Seppia“ in Italy.

 

GIFT FROM GOD

 

Love is a gift from God

thank Maya by writing about Me.

You have no love for God, but call upon it, imagine that it is there, and pray for the Divine Vision.

That sublime love is hidden in holy books and in people whose mouths kiss the word of God and do not deviate from the path of devotion. Don't trust Maya men when you read love poems,

that's not love, that's lust.

Yesterday someone wrote about the only love,

 today you are the only love

tomorrow some other woman will be the only love.

It is a lie hidden in beautiful words.

Don't believe Maya's illusion

Don't look for love where it doesn't exist.

Pray to Maya with all your heart for protection.

Call Me.

I am Your gift, reveal me and

 keep me secret.

 

I FEEL YOU

 

Every raindrop is your inhale

and exhale

in the heavenly symphony

I listen to the beat of your heart.

Through the touch of the rain I feel you.

 

 

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 she is also a member of the Poetry club "Area Felix" in Serbia.

The Drawings

 

The drawings are singing

The wonderful melodious songs are sung with instruments

Enchanting as the painting of Mona Lisa!

The laugh you live in me

For ever and ever.

 

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

13 May, 2023

 


Withered Thoughts

 

The cyclone is ready to destroy

People are taking shelter as the birds fly to other

Fear hovers around the coastal area

Fear disturbs the mind

The sun is so hot, the scorching sun

Hinders to pace outside

We are in this turmoil world

Drooping in the furnace and chokes the breath.

 

 

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh

13 May, 2023

Snow Maiden

I am telling you Snow Maiden

You will melt like wax

The wind will lose your scent

The sea will carry your identity

I still love you

I know you won’t be mine

Flocks of seagull will be your companion

Your whiteness will be swayed by catkin

Bedouin will find your address

I will be a nomad like time

The speed will hang on one leg.

I’ll wear your nupur in the dance of memory

Will sell morning and afternoon

I will buy lost night.

Modern Saints

A serious meditation carried out

By seven modern holy saints

A well frog sings the song of Shiva

The mountain walks in the hands of the moon

Darkness lurks every night

A flood of kings in the midst of light

A daughter of two fathers

The illusion of shadow in the shell

May find your body

Timeless action is in the womb of time.

Whose is whose? No religion

The moon forgot her address

Everyone is wandering, the path is unknown.

paper tigers straddle
these doorways of perception
while we grow sleep in
those rusted mortal chains
bound by future desires
they block the tirade of jobcentre queues
                                                   gentle
                                               on the breeze
where chapters bind us (lost words)
roar to the core         animal entrapment
they hear you calling     from far away
& freeze in the moment




2/
dissemination murals
crack of dawn shadings
turning off capitalism’s filth
jaws/darkness/hunches towards
failing light
along a promenade at midnight
                                fools’ gold folds into sea
                                entry into schools/teachers decapitated 

from knowledge
fishmongers gone ashore cruelly joke
recording debits from credit card union
debasement’s brass etchings

3/
judges in plaster-cast moons
resulting hybrid benefactors
tracing etchings’
steps of wounded soldiers/
their pleas fall on/deaf ears

rattling drums/rattle snakes
(all)

encircled by bankers’ crumbs
bestowing on the headland
breaking wave gestures
tide’s fortitude

4/
fading light surrounds womb
             plastic cups social discourse
returning by memory’s see-saw swing
democracy’s wild call – a note from the press
motions
to sea-sick sailors (come)
audio then visual deprivations
outside those freezing chessboard nations

men in uniforms
split their sides
castigating new verbs

5/
desperately seeking fortunes
idle chatter frays on mudflaps
the gin-soaked body of wasted away
(passing their sealed lips)

stacked crazy artisans
rest a while this balance

in rear-view mirrors
at the factory’s birth
akin to 1960’s wallflowers

dishing the dirt on helpless presidents
context of the beat
conflict of defeat
bearing witness to eggshell crossroads


6/
dramatic intrigue as
shoelaces recapture
stepping gundogs which
sniff the air
(walking)
charitable cops
disregarding replica prime ministers
fooled into lapsing to
another doggy language
howling in this aftermath
where days emblazon
new colours for old spring collections
daffodils worn in the emptiness
as unemployment discolours
  

7/
junk heart stakes out
gentle malnutrition
seedlings posing perpendicular prosedy
across choppy sea disasters
as gesticulating bureaucrats
wander deserts & gypsy
hymns decline
racial origin
forceful adjectives
hasten to kaleidoscopic horizons
traces on the shoreline
passing scoundrels declare
gaping wounds of love
then whisked off by
amateur chauffeurs
each with splendid haircuts
from 1958 movies
& delicate bone structures
carve intimate knowledge
across these cracks of desire

Clive Gresswell is a 65-year-old innovative writer and poet with many publications to his name. His sixth poetry book, a 16,000-word stream-of-consciousness prose poem Shadow Reel, will be available through Amazon in July.

MOTHER

This time I got a pen, for you mom,
I was looking for words like your kindness.
Dare to go today
Just wanted to say I'm fond of you 
Actually you are my endless verse,
I have hidden in the bottom of my heart.
Mother, mother, I've said it a thousand times,
You are my sun, the light in my eyes.
Sometimes I couldn't speak my mind,
I couldn't stand and hug you!
Sorry, I couldn't kiss your hand.
I wish these days would come back, mother
I wish I could honor you, mother.
The education you gave me has blossomed today.
I took a place in the heart of teachers.
Your bitter words opened my eyes,
You, my friend, are full of advice!
You planted a seedling with hope,
You will be the best gardener.
With praise, applause, recognition,
You will be a perfect mother!


CONGRATULATIONS TO THE YOUNG PEOPLE

The Uzbek people are young people,
Lover of youth.
Respectfully,
An uplifter.
Young people are ours,
Owners of our tomorrow.
Our pride is our honor,
Trusts of our country.
Be wise, smart,
Intelligence is unique to you.
Smart kids like you
Suitable for great ancestors.
Today is a beautiful holiday,
Let it be forever.
Be happy, be happy, be happy
Congratulations from the bottom of my heart.
Dear President,
Attention is ours.
Today is a celebration,
All boys and girls!

Nozima Ulug’ova was born on October 13, 2001 in “Yosh gayrat” neighborhood, Shorchi district, Surkhandarya province. He graduated from the 37th general education school in the Shorchi district and at the same time, the Nukus branch of the State Institute of Arts and Culture of Uzbekistan “Art Studies” 3rd-level student of the department “Dramaturgy of Stage and Screen Art”. In 2022, his creative author collections “Mother for you” and “Salvation” were published and gained their readers. At the same time, his creative story is among the young artists of Uzbekistan. “Culture”, “Creative Flight”, “Women and Time”, “Surkhan Youth”, “Morning Star” are examples of creativity in our republic. It is  covered in newspapers, “Gulkhan” magazine and “Nurli Jol” newspaper of Kazakhstan. The young penman did not limit himself to creativity, but participated in conferences and scientific meetings in prestigious journals with a factor recognized by OAC with about 20 scientific articles, pamphlets and theses.”Samarkand Youth Forum 2021″ “Uzbekistan Development Forum 2021” Participant of several forums and conferences, festivals and seminars. Nozima Ulug’ova in Personal development & Step into the international sphere Course, because he was able to show his activity and interests in the fields of literature and art in this course .Creativity Forum for Culture, Arts and Peace International member, Active member, working Group of International writers “Jontous por las Letras” Iqra Foundation has received membership offers from several international organizations in its field.