If Love Is Folly…
“If love is folly, I’m your fool. Give him
your pity, not your hate,”
he said upon the Junebug’s shell.
The ring of fire rounds the house.
Prevarication’s not your vice: you speak
black truth to summer’s eye.
You are not always loved for this. The
wanton greensward pecks the grass.
Perhaps a throw of rug would toss the air
with whiskers, spiders, mice.
A dodehexahedron stands immaculate on
green fields of ice.
I cannot say. I cannot know. For I am
mad for you, you know.
I break to justice, loss, and fate.
I litter pillows with my tears,
am lost in the forest of the years,
and no birds listen to my name.
And yet I have of wisdom won these few
aspersions to its rule.
Have you a right to happiness in this
one life you only know?
There is no other where but here;
the trick is catching fireflies before
they cinder to the skies.
Be kind to the thing that you call “me,”
you will be kind to humanity.
We are lost in the labyrinth
of time and space; infinity
is eternity’s other face.
Power, wealth and fame are phantoms,
and love is a beautiful illusion.
The distant battles end in war,
and there is the mouth of the cave. I feel
the thread that will save me from
the Minotaur.
_____
Christopher Bernard’s book The Socialist’s Garden of Verses won a PEN Oakland Josephine Miles Award and was named one of the “Top 100 Indie Books of 2021” by Kirkus Reviews.
Poetry from Elisa Mascia
Born today
From an idea that suddenly flashed
Among the cherry blossoms, the enchanting spring arrived with the rosy rain of the first kiss to welcome the new life generated today before the poetic triumph in the city cradle of wisdom and creativity.
The open lips to bud color of cherries golden impassioned cherries yearn to join the instant to crown the fleeting moment.
Challenge and play have merged into one to highlight, in the final touch, the eternal skin incarnate on which to write our prayer of love as a hymn sung while hearts dance to the alternating rhythm of sweet melodious notes that reach Paradise.
I will be born with you, raising my goblets to toast
timid and smiling eyes
as we say congratulations
So be for now and always.
Poetry from Christina Chin and Uchechukwu Onyedikam
Uchechukwu Onyedikam (italic) Christina Chin (plain) harp-lute a run of melody widening the baby lulled to sleep watching two shadows behind the stacked wood pile newborn puppies the soul entwined with Gángan the rhythm of pounding prophecies harmonic phrasing of a dialect unfamiliar jargons scripted in my prescription slips twilight corner all the memories in the shade skylight glimmers the illipe nut canopy
Poetry from Steven Bruce
Orchard of Knives
In the orchard of knives,
the trees whisper your name.
Mouths full of rotten fruit
cackle at the blistered moon.
And you walk through, barefoot,
picking the sharpest blade
to slice out the loneliness
rooted in your throat.
Funeral Shoes
I bought
a pair of funeral
shoes today.
Black leather,
stiff as a scream.
The assistant
smiled
like a woman
flogging coffins.
Thought about
returning them.
Didn’t.
I’ll wear them
everywhere.
To the bar.
To the fights.
To the last
slow dance
on earth.
You never know
when the ground
will open up.
And it’s best
to be ready.
Poetry from Shoxista Haydarova
My hero is my father
My father is my hero. For me, my father is brave, a hero and more than any other warrior. People always praise our fathers. It is true that they were also ready to give their lives for the country. But the person always sacrifices his life for you, his children, his family it is your dad. Do you know our saying “My father-my country”?! This was said to our selfless father. When did your father say no to you? He says the truth, but he does think about your future. I love my dad so much.
About my family:
There is five girls in my family. But my dad doesn’t separate any of us and treats us equally. I have the only dad in the world. Everyone’s dad is a hero for himself or herself and this is absolutely true!
This essay motivated me and I start hard-working.
I want to see this hero like my right hand.
This is my Light and I defend this with my life.
Poetry from Mesfakus Salahin
Egotism
I have no pen to compose a poem
I have no paper to draw humanity
I have no conscience to judge
I have no eye to see anything
I have no heart to feel other’s feelings
I have no mouth to protest
I have no hand to hold
I have no leg to walk
I have no brain to think
I have no risk to die
Because I am a dead body!
My soul is not with me
I have no power to stop war.
I have only egotism.
Rizal Tanjung reviews poetry from Anna Keiko
Unraveling Hope, Waiting, and Existence: A Review of Three Poems by Anna Keiko
Anna Keiko, a renowned poet from Shanghai, China, has carved a distinct presence in the world of contemporary poetry. Her works blend delicate imagination, emotional depth, and reflective philosophical touches. In her three poems—Dawn of Hope, Waiting for the Bus, and An Empty Glass—Anna Keiko invites readers to contemplate love, hope, waiting, and the essence of human existence in a quiet yet stirring way.
—
Dawn of Hope: Love as a Source of Light
Dawn of Hope offers a spiritual experience of love. Anna Keiko personifies time as something that flows endlessly, creating a contrast between the human desire to pause it and the unrelenting reality of its progression. Expressions like “like an image captured by a camera lens” symbolize the longing to preserve meaningful moments.
The heart of the poem lies in its portrayal of love as a transformative energy. Love warms the world and fills it with hope: “two hearts find a home full of gentleness.” The image of dawn not only signals the morning but also symbolizes the rebirth of hope after a long night. With a gentle yet firm poetic voice, Anna conveys the message that love can be a guiding light in darkness, a driving force that illuminates life.
—
Waiting for the Bus: An Existential Narrative Amid Life’s Absurdities
In Waiting for the Bus, Anna Keiko places her lyrical persona in a seemingly ordinary situation—waiting for a bus. Yet this simple setting transforms into an existential metaphor for endless waiting and uncertain direction in life. The line “no bus takes me to where I want to go” implies the alienation of humans in a world that keeps moving, yet often fails to meet their deepest needs.
The repetition of “waiting” and the soft description of seasonal changes (from winter to spring) intensify the sense of stagnation. A city that “has slept for thousands of years” portrays an indifferent world, while “a few stars still awake” become symbols of the small hope that remains.
This poem is a portrait of silence within the crowd, a waiting that defies definition, and a search for meaning in a fast yet empty life. Anna prompts readers to reflect on the direction of their journey—are we truly heading where we want to go, or are we merely moving without purpose?
—
An Empty Glass: Fragile and Mysterious Existence
An Empty Glass reveals a more philosophical and metaphysical side of Anna Keiko’s poetry. A glass once filled with spring water and now suddenly empty becomes a symbol of impermanence and the mystery of existence. Questions such as “Is existence just a glass of water?” and “Is my mind trapped in the glass?” express human doubt about visible reality.
This poem touches on the concepts of time, identity, and the boundary between thought and reality. With a minimalist yet profound style, Anna presents metaphors that stimulate the intellect and challenge the reader to reconsider the meaning of presence and change. Rather than providing clear answers, she offers space for deep contemplation.
—
A Lyrical Voice that Touches the Soul’s Edge
In these three poems, Anna Keiko conveys that the human inner world is a realm rich in meaning and silence. She weaves words with precision and honesty, blending personal nuances with universal reflection. Love, waiting, and existence are not merely themes, but vital pulses that breathe life into her poetry.
Keiko is not just a poet; she is a keeper of light who gently guides readers through the darkness. Her poems do not explode with words, but seep into silence, touching the deepest parts of the human soul.
—
Dawn of Hope
A Poem by Anna Keiko (China)
Morning light
wipes away the traces of night
Time flows endlessly
though I wish it would stop
like an image captured by a camera lens
for just as the fruit on a tree is precious, so is life
like the moon rising in the night
So are you, my love, whatever happens
wherever you are, I keep you in my heart
since I fell in love with you, your world has changed
because two hearts found a home full of tenderness
sunlight plays upon the strings of love
illuminating the dawn of hope.
—
Waiting for the Bus
A Poem by Anna Keiko (China)
I am waiting for the bus
Many buses pass through the station
They head to different cities
But none takes me where I want to go
I am still waiting, from winter to spring
No one cares about those waiting for the bus
They walk, or they run
I wait from darkness until dawn
Trees hibernate and awaken,
so do birds
This city has slept for thousands of years
Only a few stars remain awake
I don’t know how far the place I long for is
I keep waiting for the bus.
—
An Empty Glass
A Poem by Anna Keiko (China)
A glass full of spring water appears before me
It is part of my body.
I try to drink from it,
But as I try,
The glass is empty.
Where did the water go
in such a short time?
Is existence
just a glass of water?
This is mystery, this is confusion.
What happened?
Yesterday, I was here at the same time
and filled the glass.
Would the water not disappear
if I stayed here?
Is my mind trapped in the glass
or…?
—
About Anna Keiko and Her Work
Anna Keiko is a poet and essayist from Shanghai, China, who has made a significant mark in the world of contemporary literature. A graduate of East China University in Shanghai with a degree in law, her work has reached global audiences—translated into over 30 languages and published in more than 500 journals, magazines, and platforms across 40 countries.
With a deep dedication to literature, Anna founded and leads the ACC Shanghai Huifeng Literary Association. She also serves as China’s representative and director for the Ithaca International Cultural Foundation. Actively involved in international literary communities such as Immagine & Poesia in Italy and the Canadian-Cuban Literary Union, she fosters cultural friendship through poetry.
She has published six poetry collections, including Lonely in the Blood and Absurd Language—works that explore the bitterness of human experience, the unrest with nature, and the search for meaning amid life’s absurdities. Her honest, imaginative, and empathetic style has earned her prestigious international accolades, such as the 30th International Poetry Award in Italy and the World Peace Ambassador Certificate in 2024.
In 2023, Anna became the first Chinese recipient of the Cross-Cultural Exchange Medal for Significant Contribution to World Poetry in the United States—a distinction she carries with humility. Her poems, such as Octopus Bones and others, not only captivate readers but also open doors for her to participate in global festivals and literary gatherings.
Beyond poetry, Anna also writes prose, essays, song lyrics, and plays, showcasing her broad love for the written word.
Anna Keiko continues her quiet literary journey, weaving words, kindling hope, and offering works that touch the hearts of many souls.
West Sumatra, 2025