The Harbinger of Beauty

Today in the evening I saw a baby
Resting its head on the shoulder of its mom.
The little one was gazing with its enchanting eyes
That was unusually attractive, marvelous and nice.
The soft glow of roses was reflecting through its face.
No sign of weariness, anxiety or pain
Could anybody find in that ever beauty creature’s eyes.
I gazed and gazed and found enormous joy
The purity and innocence that the baby had shown.
It captured my feelings and soothed my soul.
This sweet lovely baby, looked heavenly flower to me,
Whose soul is still in touch of the Lord.

The innocent little soul had seen not yet
Poverty, injustice, cruelty and fake.
The treacherous people are following him or walking ahead.
This poor little beauty does not even know
What deprivation, corruption, injustice and hate
Is waiting for this innocent infant.
Alas! this poor soul has not yet guessed
Or imagined the action the silent killers have
In the name of justice power and pelf.
How treacherous, heinous and cruel are they
Who advocate for equality but practice not they!

But dear little baby still we hope
Your arrival on the earth will bring a change.
This world will see righteousness, equality and justice again,
People will have the opportunity to speak, opportunity to work
In the environment where they will enjoy the rights -
Right of speaking, right to smile, right to choose their leader they wish
Who will lead them to the real golden age
Where the sun of freedom will shine again,
They will see there not suppression, corruption, violation of rules
Not application of illegal power or deprivation at all.

(Manzar Alam from Bangladesh)

New Year Song 

The caravan of the long road, 
Choose a pure address, 
Purify every person, 
Every year when the last month comes. 

Joy fills my heart, 
When every New Year comes, 
Spring is coming to my life, 
When I hear a message from you. 

I wait patiently 
My love remains with a deficit, 
A year passes with algebra, 
Grief, sadness when strength comes. 

This is how I spend my life 
I'm secretly worried 
My heart just laughs 
When your voice comes. 

I have a wish my love, 
Get out, my grief, 
You be mine, I'll be yours, 
When our soul is the same.
 
Let's sing a new song 
Let's knit verse by verse, 
Let's create a poem, an epic, 
When every New Year comes. 

Elmaya Jabbarova - was born in Azerbaijan. She is a poet, writer, reciter, and translator. Her poems were published in the regional newspapers «Shargin sesi», «Ziya», «Hekari», literary collections «Turan», «Karabakh is Azerbaijan!», «Zafar», «Buta», foreign Anthologies «Silk Road Arabian Nights», «Nano poem for Africa», «Juntos por las Letras 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.

RAINBOW PENUMBRAS 

Pierced by the wind my steps... 
I see myself lying restless 
between the scream and the silence

I hear sirens behind the rainbow, 
in treble clef 
High amazement 
Sweet delirium

Name day time, 
swaying that appears. 
when a new year approaches
 
And I say to myself: 
You still fulfill vertically 
your destiny, 
peering into the nuance of each letter

Only walk and only peace

Heart of lateral foliage, 
until the canvas comes down of rainbow gloom, 
to wrap it... 

GRACIELA NOEMI VILLAVERDE is a writer and poet from Concepción del Uruguay (Entre Rios) Argentina, based in Buenos Aires She graduated in letters and is the author of seven books of poetry, receiving awards several times worldwide. She works as the World Manager of Educational and Social Projects of the Hispanic World Union of Writers and the UHE World Honorary President of the same institution Activa de la Sade, Argentine Society of Writers. She is a commissioner of honor in the executive cabinet IN THE EDUCATIONAL AND SOCIAL RELATIONS DIVISION, of the UNACCC SOUTH AMERICA ARGENTINA CHAPTER.

HOURGLASS
 
As if your wishes touch me on this winter night, 
and our bodies are not the limit, there is soul touch 
without physical touch. 
Winter melts from our smiles, 
joy is multiplied by sweet words. 
I imagine...an hourglass that measures the time in each 
grain of sand, but time does not stop, 
because our thoughts turn that clock over and over again. 
I want time to stop, for us.

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

My dearest, 

Why be sad on New Year?
Why shed a precious tear? 
The end of past is so near
Beginnings can't you hear?
Life may be unfair as it is so
Tonight, let every pain just go
Struggle, disillusion you know
To hopelessness don't kowtow
Tonight, a new cloth to weave
Do not add reasons to grieve
New dream for heart to receive
Just let it go, hope to perceive
Life is beautiful, you must fight
Hold on to your courage tight
Don't underestimate spirit's might
Look forward to Future so bright.


True Gift

A gift is a basket of laughter
Where all good times gather
A gift is a big bowl of smile
Memories more than a mile
A gift is thick bouquet of sigh
Romances flying way up high
A gift is warm blanket of fear
Where rare peace I hold dear
A gift is crystal glass of doubt
Confused as what is life about
A gift is a teacup full of tears
Pains and griefs no one hears
A gift is able to feel the free air
Love anger hope and despair
A gift is chance to live and strive
Despite all continue to thrive

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.

Kiss of the Morning Wind 

The timelessness of the horizon 
And the endless joy of becoming 
Part of humanity’s quiet overtures; 
Ringing in the quiet mornings 
Like bells in life’s carillon towers. 
All the depth of love and caring 
Steps forth on the balcony of life; 
Singing in the voice of ageless beauty 
Sending arias of love to far off stars; 
And walking among the lilies in gardens, 
Wild with nature’s indescribable beauty 
Caressing the souls of callous dreamers 
Who hum to the birds of first light. 
Awaken now, sweet youth of dawn 
Hold the day like a newborn child, 
Tenderly aware of its fragile beauty; 
Treasure every hour; every moment 
Life smiles on your ageless face; 
Savor the warmth of love’s sweetness 
When the morning wind kisses your lips. 


Beyond Now 

Night enfolds me like your arms in my dreams. 
Shadows whisper with the echoes of your voice
 Nearly asleep in heavens far from reaching; 
But waiting; waiting; searching the brightness 
Of distant stars singing past me in night’s stillness. 
Heaven is but a word – silent and deep, beautiful 
Beyond earthly hopes and cares, a place 
Of lovelight shining from your eyes, touching 
The core of life with the fingertips of desire 
To be with you in mists spanning time; 
Spanning thought; being bound to you 
In ways of the soul and the timelessness 
Of an ever-expanding completeness 
Of infinity’s ways to conquer time 
And be with you beyond this vale of now.

Annie Johnson is 84 years old. She is Shawnee Native American. She has published two, six hundred-page novels and six books of poetry. Annie has won several poetry awards from world poetry organizations including; World Union of Poets; she is a member of World Nations Writers Union; has received the World Institute for Peace award; the World Laureate of Literature from World Nations Writers Union and The William Shakespeare Poetry Award. She received a Certificate and Medal in recognition of the highest literature from International Literary Union for the year 2020, from Ayad Al Baldawi, President of the International Literary Union. She has three children, two grandchildren, and two sons-in-law. Annie played a flute in the Butler University Symphony. She still plays her flute.

Salute My Heroes

The blood of my heroes will never dry;
Their memory will never die.
The fallen shall stand again in me.
I will carry the ghost of tragedy.
The blood of my brethren is that of mine.
Their memory is my daily wine.
I raise my glass without dispute;
In those valor halls I do salute.
My brethren, My heroes; the life I owe.
The respect they deserve; The love I show.
A monument of honor lives in me.
Looking at my hands it's their blood I see.
I owe them more than I can give.
They will be remembered as long as I live.


Hey Santa 

Hey Santa, out there in your sleigh
Ho Ho Hoing all the way
Will you drop by?
Hey Santa, riding through the snow
With your list so you know; 
Will you drop by?
Hey Santa, don't forget me tonight,
Don't forget to turn off the light.
Hey Santa, out there all alone
With everyone safe at home;
Could you come by?
Hey Santa, with you finger on your nose
Waiting for young eyes to close;
Could you come by?
Hey Santa, would you bring peace to this house?
I promise to be still as a mouse.
But it is only a fantasy
The night was too dreary
He just couldn't see
Hearts were too weary
He couldn't help me
And the world filled with pain.
Hey Santa, out there in the sky
With that gleam in your eye;
Do you remember me?
Hey Santa, out there on your sleigh
Laughing all the way;
Do you remember me?
Hey Santa, don't tell me peace has gone away;
There has to be hope for a better day.

(Based on and inspired by Pink Floyd "Hey You")

From South-Western Michigan, Jerry Langdon lives in Germany since the early 90's. He is an artist and ooet. His works bathe in a darker side of emotion and fantasy. He has released five books of Poetry titled "Temperate Darkness an Behind the Twilight Veil", “Death and other cold things” “Rollercoaster Heart” and “Frosted Dreams” Jerry is also the editor and publisher of the literary magazine Raven Cage Zine poetry and prose. His poetic inspirations are derived from poets such as Edgar Allen Poe, Robert Frost and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. As well as from various rock bands. His apparently twisted mind, twists and intertwines fantasy with reality.