Remembering

I remember

I was born there,

Near a lingering dream,

When my mother, alone with her passion,

(I‘m alone still, an orphan)

Arranged her dreams in boxes called “us”

And then returned the next morning to

Press her eyes to shed kohl,

While she slept, we lay as naked as a

freshly washed tunic

Inhaling alienation as we dried.

…………………………….

Faleeha Hassan

Translated by William M. Hutchins

Faleeha 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. She is a Pulitzer Prize nominee for 2018 and a Pushcart Prize Nominee for 2019.

She is a member of the International Writers and Artists Association, the Winner of the Women of Excellence Inspiration award from SJ magazine 2020, the winner of the Grand Jury Award (the Sahitto International Award for Literature 2021), one of the Women of Excellence selection committee members, 2023, the winner of Women In The Arts award 2023, a member of Who’s Who in America 2023, on the SAHITTO AWARD, JUDGING PANEL 2023, and a Cultural Ambassador – Iraq, USA.

Email : d.fh88@yahoo.com

What I understand

(Written under the influence of what I saw and some events)

Some recommendations for parents in raising children

1. Being a parent, it is not easy to take responsibility and raise a child. If there is a little neglect, they can get involved in anything. They always think that you should be strict with them. But this does not mean that you should always be strict with the child and always fight. You want to teach the horse the right way until he reaches it. But no matter how much you beat the child, it will never help. Worse, they will be cold towards you. Your respect will disappear.

Respect their decisions;
You should not neglect their goals;
You should give them their freedom without pampering them.
The main thing is to know how to listen to your child!

2. Always pay attention to your child's dream goals and respect their abilities. So-and-so's child knows math. You should also study math, history, and IT!

Unfortunately, in many parents, their child knows this type of piston very well. They say, "You have learned too!". Have you asked your child first about his interest, the field of science he is interested in?

3. Never compare your child with someone else's child!
Every child has his own abilities given by God. Someone is strong in science. Maybe your child is interested in sports, art, IT, why would someone say, "Why can't you do it?!" "should be compared by saying?!

Allow your child to pursue an area of ​​interest. What your child can do may not be possible for the child of the pumper who praises you. The more you compare your child, the more he loses interest in his own identity and begins to fall into depression. Let your child be like HIMSELF, not like SO-and-so's child. And the thoughts that no one understands me and why they compare me to him appear in their minds, and their interest fades. Because every child has his own interests, abilities, self-thinking worldview. If every parent listens to their child's abilities and uses them, they would go in the direction they are interested in. Therefore, no child's field is the same. If his fellow doctor does this, he shouldn't do it either. It can't be like that.

Don't compare your child at all and listen, this is the thing that has the most negative effect on the child. It even makes the parents think that they hate me!

4. Always give your child their freedom without pampering them.
No matter who asks you to do something or what clothes to wear (I can't tell you everything, of course you should consult with your parents), I mean let the child make decisions that he can make without fear. That's it. What do you mean, parents, don't be afraid. Let them make their own personal decisions freely. Therefore, you should give them such freedom and strong confidence, say the words "I believe in you", "I respect their decisions", and only then have a child. He starts to try to justify the trust given to him, but many people say that if he doesn't have to take it hard, he will do as he knows how. No! this is a big mistake!

Give them confidence, motivation, and then a child
My parents and me

He tries harder because he respects my decisions and interests. He is also afraid of abusing the trust given to him. Can he act? under depression?!
He does it only because he is afraid.




TODAY AND TOMORROW

Do you struggle to get up in the morning?
Remember when you had an important job and overslept on the day of your exam?
No, because you know why you need to wake up.
When you wake up in the morning, look out the window,
spring is around, if you look around when it's late after spending the day, autumn has come

This morning, another door of opportunities was opened for us to change our lives. A new day was given. Draw a conclusion from your mistakes, don't repeat those mistakes this morning!!!

Our first task in this life is to make ourselves happy. To be able to set goals for our own life, to live by ourselves. To think about our future at least a little, to think about who we are now. and we have to start by realizing who we will be in the future!!! First of all, the first principle of human life begins with self-acceptance. Accept yourself. The people around you are like a mirror to you. Be able to see your mistakes and shortcomings. Keep negative people away from you.

Don't pay attention to the people who laugh at you saying "You can't do it" and keep silent! Be committed to your goals. Don't give up on trivial excuses and don't be weak! The world is not all rainbows and shining sun. The world is very cruel and only the strong can endure. You and I or no one can hit as hard as life hits. It's not about how much life can or can't hit you. No matter how hard it hits you. It's not about how many hits you can take.

Don't point the finger at others saying that it happened because of him when you've taken the blows. This is an act of absolute cowards, and you should separate yourself from them.

For people in this life, it doesn't matter how much you are struggling and you are giving all your strength to it. What is important for people is the RESULT you have achieved. 'changing result. If you say that one day you will not be a slave to people who have a purpose, act today. It's okay if you have fallen a thousand times, don't stop! Get up, it might be the same this time. Search, develop, grow, work more on yourself! Don't give up hope every day you are given an opportunity. Don't look for excuses.... Never... don't look for excuses..

Are you not getting enough sleep at night? Are you out of strength?...If you work harder than today, someday people will work for you.

Stay away from people who have a bad opinion about you. Be purposeful with a plan! Link your life to goals. Try to find your own solution to the problems that arise. If you don't fight to find the solution to those problems, it will never end..Make time count...Every minute..Every hour seconds. Those SECONDS can bring success to your ascension. You may have made mistakes in the past. Don't dwell on those mistakes for too long. Draw conclusions from them! Draw conclusions from what those mistakes gave you and what they took away from you. Make a new decision! Make a plan for your life. If you dwell on the past for too long, you may miss the opportunities that have been given to you in your present life. Don't torture yourself with the past. Live only with the future. Be able to see your achievements in it. Action! Action and only Action! .,WITHOUT ACTION nothing can be achieved. Believe in your own strength and knowledge. 

Everything in this life will end. However, knowledge is an exception. No matter how much it is spent, it will not end. And its zakat is to give to others. If you say that you can act, hundreds of thousands of dying cells in your brain will be activated. You only and just believe in yourself. Put the "I must do it" thing in front. Test yourself every minute and second!

Author Bakhora Bakhtiyorova Asliddin's daughter was born 2006 21-March in the Republic of Uzbekistan. She is an international journalist and a monologist.

Trees

In forests deep, where nature thrives,
Stands a marvel that keeps our planet alive.
Majestic sentinels, rooted in the ground,
Trees, the guardians, spreading beauty all around.

With limbs outstretched, they reach for the sky,
Whispering secrets as the wind passes by.
Their emerald crowns, adorned with leaves,
Creating canopies where sunlight weaves.

Oh, mighty oaks with trunks so stout,
Centuries old, steadfast without a doubt.
Birch trees, elegant and slender in form,
Dancing softly in a gentle summer storm.

Maples blaze with colors ablaze,
Enchanting autumn with their fiery ways.
Silent witnesses to the changing seasons,
As winter takes hold, they endure with reason.

Beneath their boughs, life finds haven,
A symphony of creatures, from rabbit to raven.
Squirrels chase and play on their sturdy limbs,
Birds nestle and sing their melodious hymns.

Don Bormon is a student of grade 8 in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.

The Victory Day

16th December is the Victory day of Bangladesh
After a long line of death in nine months ---
Severe torture, rape and struggle in the deep dark place
The Morning Sun rose in the East sky
On this day of 1971
Bangladesh, a name written with the blood of millions of Bangalee people
A name glorious with its own beauty and struggle
We have bought this country with so many lives
When I go through this history
I can't but cry 
Oh, my country! We have found you in the map of the world
Where I live and find myself to be one the world's citizens
Oh, my Bangladesh! I love you from the core of my heart.

Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh,
11 December, 2023
 

Md. Mahbubul Alam is from Bangladesh. His writer name is Mahbub John in Bangladesh. He is a Senior Teacher (English) of Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh. Chapainawabganj is a district town of Bangladesh. He is an MA in English Literature from Rajshahi College under National University. He has published three books of poems in Bangla. 

He writes mainly poems but other branches of literature such as prose, article, essay etc. also have been published in national and local newspapers, magazines, little magazines. He has achieved three times Best Teacher Certificate and Crest in National Education Week in the District Wise Competition in Chapainawabganj District. He has gained many literary awards from home and abroad.   His English writings have been being published in an International Online Magazine - Synchronized Chaos from America for seven years. 

16 December 

Today is 16 December, our Victory day—

After ending of nine months bloody battle,

A day of helpless surrender of enemy;

Their day of defeat.

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. 

A Baby

A baby knows no race

A baby knows no scent

A baby knows no cloth

A baby knows no ideas

A baby knows a warm lap

A baby knows warm embrace

A baby knows a gentle hum

A baby knows what love is

A baby knows any language

A baby knows contentment

A baby knows peaceful sleep

A baby knows beautiful dream

A baby knows a heart that’s true

When have we stopped being a baby,

Stopped knowing what matters?

When have we stopped feeling,

Stopped having a baby’s wisdom?

Don’t Be Afraid

Summer nights, cool breeze flows to caress

Moon and stars hidden above the trees

Darkness hid the shadows of life

Eyes blindfolded not by silky scarf

Don’t be afraid of the absence of the sun

Summer nights when stars are hidden above

Where is North, where is the Perseus god?

No torch to guide one’s stumbling on a path

No flames of bonfire crackling to give one warmth

Don’t be afraid with the feeling of being lost

Summer nights stranger alone and young

A child scared of the unknown night sounds

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.

The Passage of Time 

Long vanished the ancient cold, 
The song of the wolves, distant 
Howling through the downy flakes 
Drifting o’er rooftops and curling 
From chimneys grown cold. 
Time glows like a banked fire 
Against the cold of eons past 
Aching bones of lost love 
Waiting in time to dance again. 
Wilted the love posies given 
By wooers besotted and forlorn 
In the heydays of their passion 
Never to hear sweet promises 
Polished, refurbished and stored 
In the heart-shaped boxes of time 
Or wear the locks of hair in lockets 
Of long dead lovers, sworn 
To vows impossible to keep 
Past the eons of their courtship. 
Old are the dreams, forgotten 
The glory of laughter and youth 
To be lived as the wind whispers 
Beneath the waves of thunder, 
Grumbles into the caves of love, 
Absorbed by the echoing walls.
Longing dies but lives in memories 
Bursting forth in the glory of sunsets, 
Waking on the sunbeams of morning, 
And sleeping in the dust, tracked 
Through the temples of timeless love.



Sacred Freedom 

It’s the soul that is touched by space and time 
And the heart that breaks to poignant rhyme. 
A King can feel like a prisoner within his castle halls, 
While the soul of the dungeon inmate soars beyond his walls. 
Circumstance is what you make of your surroundings 
A castle can be a fortress wherein fancy sings 
Or a prison where only despair is given wings. 
Each step is sacred that you walk in a free land 
Thank God for freedom to choose where you stand. 



Christmas Sonnet 

This, our first Christmas, brings me such delights! 
You are all the gifts I ever dreamed of; 
Every Christmas tree trimmed with sparkling lights; 
Every star on top symbolizing love. 
You're every kiss beneath the mistletoe; 
Every turkey, yeast roll and candied yam; 
The angels I made lying in the snow; 
You're my gingerbread man, my honeyed ham! 
You’re every Christmas Carol I have sung; 
You’re reindeer, Santa Claus and candlelight; 
All the stockings filled I carefully hung; 
You’re the sleigh bells imagined on Christmas Night. 
You’re the glowing fireplace on Christmas Eve - 
All the cookies and milk I used to leave.

 
Sacred Silhouette 

Yours is the sacred silhouette outlined 
Between me and the LIGHT of Creation – 
The deep voice of love from outer space 
Reaching me from the corridors of time; 
The pulsating heart of constancy 
Beating for me in echoing waves 
Of unforgettable love, caught 
In the beauty of thought and desire 
To hold the night in each other's arms. 
Your love touches every cell of my being. 
You are the glow in the mist of morning; 
The chirping cricket on the threshold 
Of love’s open doorway to paradise. 
You are evening’s quiet reverie 
Enhancing my belief in a loving God. 
You are the quiet breath of falling dew; 
The glow of lilies in the moonlight. 
You are a thousand fireflies lit by my desire 
To know the tenderness of your ways. 
You’re the taste of moonlight on my skin; 
My silent steps on the path of yearning 
As I walk in the sacred shadow of stars 
Seeking your soul in love’s rocking cradle 
Suspended from the limb of infinity. 

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.