The Independence of Bangladesh Through 71's war we got independence We are free hence. In the heart of Bengal, A nation's pride, Independence Day, A journey's stride. With courage and hope, they took their stand, Freedom's flame ignited, Across the land. Bangladesh's story, in history's rhyme, A nation's spirit, enduring through time. Wazed Abdullah is a student of grade nine in Harimohan Government High School, Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh.
Date I opened my palm and wandered around the ruins asking for bread, when I heard the call to prayer. I ran to our hut and saw my mother lying lifeless next to the four-cornered cloth, and my heart broke. As it was time to break the fast, I brought some water in a bowl and I gave it to my mother to drink. I couldn’t look at my mother’s face. She barely smiled and closed her eyes saying: «break fast.» In the morning, when I looked at her near dawn, her breath was not coming out of her throat, there was no blood on her face. My eyes were filled with tears, and when I opened the lifeless, fisted palm that fell on the empty table, there was a single date. If I took it, the date would smell like my mother… Nosirova Gavhar was born on August 16, 2000 in the city of Shahrisabz, Kashkadarya region of Uzbekistan. Today, she is a third-year student of the Faculty of Philology of the Samarkand State University of Uzbekistan. Being a lover of literature, she is engaged in writing stories and poems. Her creative works have been published in Uzbek and English. In addition, she is a member of «All India Council for Development of Technical Skills», «Juntos por las letras» of Argentina, «2DSA Global Community». Winner of the «Korabl znaniy» and «Talenty Rossii» contests, holder of the international C1 level in the Russian language, Global Education ambassador of Wisdom University and global coordinator of the Iqra Foundation in Uzbekistan. «Magic pen holders» talented young group of Uzbekistan, «Kayva Kishor», «Friendship of people», «Raven Cage», «The Daily Global Nation», Argentina's «Multi Art-6», Kenya&;s «Serenity: A compilation of art and literature by women» contains creative works in the magazine and anthology of poets and writers.
Spring In fields of green, where flowers bloom, The air is sweet with nature's perfume. The sun shines bright, the sky so blue, As spring arrives, the world anew. Birds sing melodies, dance in the breeze, Leaves unfurl on the budding trees. Life bursts forth in vibrant array, Welcoming the warmth of a brand-new day. Gentle rain showers, the earth's embrace, Awakening life with each drop's grace. In spring's embrace, we find rebirth, A symphony of joy, across the earth. So let us revel in this season's delight, As nature paints with colors so bright. For in the heart of spring's gentle hue, We find hope, and dreams anew. 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.
What Leans against the Grass Yet the green sleeps in the grass The sweetness in the eyes over the beauty of the flowers The sweet melody in the tune of the birds’ song Yet the current blows on the rivers sounds much to run Love plays between nature’s every set up for each other to grow Yet my heart stops, blear eyes scratch in moving In so hot weather without an umbrella Umbrella, under which I can save myself From the scorching heat of the sun But who can save the children, the women, After all the people of Palestine From the hit of bombs, firing or hunger? How can I proceed, energy fails to step on Standing before the naked humanity of the world. Chapainawabganj, Bangladesh, 29 March, 2024. 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 published in Synchronized Chaos Magazine for seven years.
LOVE IN SILENCE The invented alphabet of our flights, I will paint your image in sepia Our kisses will imagine, the written word Hearts that will beat in unison You will be in the vortex of time... You will be welcome love in silence Let me pass, there's a gap in hope Your voice and my voice will make a furrow in the night, with the whisper of the wind The larks will sing among the lilacs, in a hidden language I will be reborn in the immense breath of your laughter, And in the love that burns, I will walk life. 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, awarded several times worldwide. She works as the World Manager of Educational and Social Projects of the Hispanic World Union of Writers. She's also the UHE World Honorary President of the same institution Activa de la Sade, Argentine Society of Writers and a Commissioner of Honor in the executive cabinet IN THE EDUCATIONAL AND SOCIAL RELATIONS DIVISION, of the UNACCC SOUTH AMERICA ARGENTINA CHAPTER.
One Two One, Two Daddy caught a flu Three, Four Mommy locked the door Five, Six Doggie learnt new tricks Seven, Eight My dinner's late Nine, Ten Nappy change again One, Two Now, what shall I do? Three, Four Want to pee some more Five, Six Burps and farts do mix Seven, Eight Biscuits I ate Nine, Ten Nappy change again One, Two My fingers I chew Three, Four I crawled on the floor Five, Six Bathtub, Granny fix Seven, Eight My milk, I wait Nine, Ten Nappy change again One, Two Daddy caught a flu Three, Four Seven days and more ... Bottom of Form Time and Art Time is but the ropes in ring of life we play. Art is the skill we use as we heroically play. Win or defeated within time, we stay. Leaving our trophies, soon our valiant corpses lay. May our skills provide the next players a way. In them, our value, others may gratefully say. We are all blessed the time our first cry that day. 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.
Moon of All Shining Desire Moon of all shining desire Rapture laden sweetness of orgy and fire Suspended in brightness tipped Earthward, A path through the night Unraveling the stillness Achingly holding the light. Radiant your pathway – Enchanted and new Tangled with stardust and spangled with dew Reflecting the light of the cosmos In the shimmering stars on your gown. Moonlit hours are fleeting... And in dreams your light I recall Delicate and wispy like a dress Worn to a debutante's ball. Drape this silhouette once more In your soft silver light With Earth's music playing waltzes Some magical night Dance my moon-tipsy shadow, lightly Around the deserted ballroom floor Then out through the open French door Whirl me in breathless ecstasy Onto the terrace of night. GOING HOME Going home is an echoing tune Whistled down the sunbeams In the corridors of the wind. Going home is climbing the cherry tree Of the mind With the golden legs of yesterday. It's roaming mentally Through the windless places Where tragedy was bubble gum hair Or a B-B through a window. Now I stare at my reflection In that long-ago wounded window – Did I see the young girl shadow pass Over the woman in the glass; Did she reach out and touch my face; Or was that the wind upon my cheek? I HAVE WALKED THE MORN IN MISTS I have walked the morn in mists And trodden down the valley lily white And run the gantlet sunshine fair Robed in silken webs no woman ever wove, Shod in sandals light - Airy, as death is weightless And left youth and gaiety high and dry At the entrance gate of responsibility And entered therein To lie face down, child of marble, wayward On the dew-drenched lawn of forever, Crying tears of stone To the unveiling of a statue, ageless. I have reached reverently out to touch The alabaster agony of space without time To carve the precious light of existence, sweet With flawless line, chisel The wrinkles of age and time away Layer by layer to the stone's heart, Newborn, in beauty glowing, translucent With hands of steel, a sculptress Kneeling to whisper, "It is good." 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.