Welcome New World!
The most innocent emotions belong to humans,
But why did Adam's children change?
They gather and fill their treasures,
Their greed and stubbornness never fade!
The desire to be more prosperous, greater,
Their lofty ideals are empty illusions!
They shed no tears for the limits of competition,
A diffusion towards the end of mankind!
Every side, every corner is filled with sin,
Deadly diseases, epidemics prevail,
Disgrace does not bring honor,
Let drug addiction be eradicated!
Let peace and justice be our future's name,
Let us maintain balance on the scales,
Where do millions and billions go,
Let us account for and scrutinize each expenditure!
Awaken, put an end to this ignorance,
Perhaps the bud will wither before it blooms,
Greedy ones, put an end to this insatiable hunger,
Everything will be inherited by this world!
Place yourselves in the shoes of the poor,
See how it feels to be without support,
Learn the pain of impossibility,
To be denied everything you witness!
The genes of food and fruits are manipulated,
Animals are injected with harmful substances,
Infants are born sick, abnormal,
They suffer the horrors of life!
Nature lovingly caresses us,
As a sole consolation to humanity,
Let us not distance ourselves like ungrateful children,
This opportunity will not be given to us again!
Let us gift the world a radiant smile,
Let us say no to war together!
May the innocent faces of children shine,
Let the earth not be left to wickedness.
Let us say to the world, with laughter,
That no one is afraid anymore,
We will not surrender the world to the headless tyrant,
Let his vile desires remain in his heart!
In this world, there are countless nations, peoples,
Each has its own native language,
In every language, there are countless words,
With deep meaning and profound wisdom.
Words cannot be measured,
Each one is like a unique pearl,
There is no equal in the world,
The elixir of kind words soothes the soul!
Let us write melodies with honeyed words,
Far from hatred, anger, and rage,
Let us erase fearful dreams with benevolence,
And create smiles and joy on faces!
Come, masters of words, army of poets,
Let us create a brand-new world once again!
May the fragrance of peace spread everywhere,
Together, let us compose the anthem of the world.
The world does not belong to you,
Nor does it belong to me,
The world belongs to each and every one of us!
Let us live with conscience,
With love, with respect,
Let the world revolve,
With faith in the future!
Welcome New World!
07.07.2023.
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.
Water As a Gift to Life
Water as a ritual symbol of baptism,
A man plunges into the river, vows to the priest to leave his old habits
And emerges sanctified with a prayer
Water as the source of life,
The first morning bath and salutation to the Sun,
The first glass of water as the most precious drink,
And the last meeting with ritual water when a person dies,
He leaves bathed to return to the beginning of this story...
A soul is born into a new body,
While the doctor after the birth of the mother bathes the child
And congratulates the mother who drinks a glass of water with a smile on her face.
Lesson
Everything in life is like a wheel of fortune and misfortune.
Everything changes and is not permanent, our inner attitude is important,
That it is a show for our eyes,
A test for the mind and heart
And above all a great lesson.
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 shealso is a member of the Poetry club "Area Felix" in Serbia.
Soft Magic of Night
And the night descended like soft magic;
Its shadows gripped my soul, binding me
In a memory of another night, finding me
In time’s protected space of moments.
Soft the night was then, too, smiling
With your eyes alight in the darkness;
The moon speaking so rapidly
I lost some of the words of its light.
The moon speaks, still, and the stars
Sigh in this ‘now’, just as they did then.
All the night is a loving flood
Of talking light from the darkness;
Of remembered warmth of a hand
Holding my hand in the stillness;
Of the soft light in your eyes, that filled
My soul with the same inner brightness.
There are lights and words that never die;
They come alive when night descends
Like soft magic shadows of timelessness.
The Measure of Love
My soul dances to the music of your voice;
My feet want to skip every time we meet.
Your eyes speak to me in an ancient tongue
That only my eyes can hear and translate.
My heart riots whenever you look at me.
Yours are the standards I gauge all men –
No other man compares to your fineness.
Honor is your code and truth your religion.
Your lips speak and I hear with my heart;
Your eyes speak love your lips can’t say.
I’ve held you for hours content to listen
To the beating of your heart, knowing
That it beats with devotion for only me.
My life is yours with all my dreams
Leading through reality’s illusions, thrust
Into the ongoing path of everyday living.
Whatever thunderous storms may come,
Whatever lightning may flash and follow,
Everlasting love will be our haven.
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.
NIGHTMARES
On my lowly bed
As I was sleeping
You a caress gave
To my eyes weeping
My faith did fruit
As you reached on.
So love did smooth
A soul matted long.
Never have I cried
Such a muted pain.
As i did yesternight
For you left again.
Looking Back on Life
Once upon a quantum millenium
Lived lifeforms called human.
Such perishable mechanics
Fleeting vessels of organics.
Creators, Gods that have transcended
Giving us immortality for them intended.
If this is the definition of life I'll pass.
Such ephemeral mortality could not last.
But I thank their evanescence
For my infinite existence.
--
From South-Western, Michigan, Jerry Langdon lives in Germany since the early 90's. He is an Artist and Poet. 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.
When you realize the TikTok sign is a musical note on grief
I guess this / is what happens/
when you / feed your eyes with too/
much grief / It wallows / sucks you in/
its breath / till you breathe in it/
and become / as hollow / as your /
country / Speaking of / hollowness /
I long to ask / how far is your / country from a / nova / wet like a
wound / into the lips of / a tiktok
trend / Here / the muezzin's voice /
calls out for prayer / that's the only
aspen / that cascades / maybe or
not / into grief / So take this poem /
as one from / the eyes of a tiktoker /
camouflaged with / metaphors / one who / oils skin follicles / daily / into
a matrix / of sepia hues.
Wildfires
We’ve all seen forest fires in movies
and on the evening news. Whole states
or provinces seem to catch fire and
burn on and on. Acres and acres going
up, animals scurrying away, people trying
to drive around, get away, and houses and
businesses gone in no time. Witnesses
always talk about the roar of the fire as
it turns the world around them into ash.
Didn’t Prometheus give us fire for this?
So it’s not just sloppy gods fooling with
us – an angry god full of lightning and
sorrow, or some redneck god flicking his
cigarette butt out of his chariot or not
putting out his sacrificial fire. No, now
we get to participate in all this fiery stuff
cigarette butts and campfires, and just
burning off the grass to get our season
going. This is the stuff of legends playing
out all around us. We cause ’em and then
get to put them out – from villain to hero
in a month of wildfires. Breathe in deeply
miles away and you know it’s there, filling
the air, this very real nightmare.
Change in Climate
What does it mean when the weather
Becomes front page stuff and evening
News shows lead with it? All of a sudden
Politics and the economy and all wars
Take a backseat to what’s happening all
Around us, to us. Local news gives us
The full array of coverage – film of what’s
Happening, rivers raging, streets flooded
Tops of cars barely sticking out of water
Near to us, then there are reporters out
There becoming eye witnesses and then
Interviewing officials and folks flooded
Out of their homes, and of course there’s
The weather people giving us maps and
And statistics, how deep and for how long.
All of it seems unreal, Twilight Zone-ish –
Our familiar world turning upside down.
And we ask, what does it all mean? But
The answer has been with us for a while.
It means we’re not as safe as we thought.
It means there are consequences of our
Actions. We heard global warming and best
We could do was debate along political lines.
We heard about climate change and assumed
That later generations would have to worry.
We never thought it would be front page stuff
Or lead on TV news. We quietly assumed it
Would take care of itself.
There From Here
“Road closed” and all of a sudden
That old one about not getting
There from here becomes new.
A sign goes up, a rope stretches
Across, sometimes they leave a guy
There to warn us. The TV or radio
Announces it, road or street closed
And advises us to avoid it. It’s hard
To imagine the gap or landslide or
Whatever that makes them close
It. The late news will give us scenes
Of the destruction – a gap where
That culvert washed out or that
Bridge that we crossed so often is
Now gone. A reporter will be there
In the hole or alongside the gap
With rushing water behind them as
They tell us the story of the closing.
The road we knew for so long is no
Longer part of our getting home or
To work. People on either side of
The gap wave to each other, take
Pictures and wonder aloud about
How and when they will get there
From here. We’ll talk bravely about
This after the road crews do their
Thing and fix the way for us, but
Right now the road is closed and
We must find another way to get
Wherever we think we are going.
Either
When you get
to my age,
and you've been
seriously ill a few
times.
Naturally, you
begin wondering
what's next.
Is there anything
afterwards ?
Thinking about it,
it's either the start
of a whole new
adventure.
Or it's endless
sleep.
I can look forward
to either.
Depending on
how I feel.
