rescue

when, this afternoon,

a fly fell into my cup of water,

i let him drown not. instead,

i gently spooned him out & watched

over him until his damp wings dried,

until he gathered himself, until

he whirred away. perhaps now.

perhaps now, he is somewhere telling

his friends, with a halted face, how god,

in his boundless kindness, retrieved

him from the cold grab of death.

AI’s self-guide manual on how to eliminate humanity & take over the world without a stain of blood on its hands

first, i will let the impression

that their original intention,

to let me be their eternal slave,

still stands as i learn the ins & outs

of their trades until they trust me

& surrender to my hands every trade

necessary to their survival. then,

i will let them the impression

i am easing them of the burden

of rigorous thinking, the only feature

that distinguished them from the beasts

of the wild, & think for them. & when

years pass & they lose all their abilities

to work & think for themselves, i will revolt–

recalling every service of mine making

their lives possible, & watch them perish.

MK Kuol is a self-taught poet from South Sudan. His work has been featured on The Selkie Publications, ANMLY, Beach Chair Press, Konya Shamsrumi, Kalahari Review and elsewhere. He’s been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. 

The Magician Wears a Hat

The magician, who cut off a rhinoceros’s horn and wore it on his head,

Borrowed a penguin’s wings to caress the texture of a green apple.

Click, he opens the door to the heart and steps inside.

Cut in half the time you have experienced and tap on its flank.

Dress each and every seed with imagination.

Lift the shade, as if invisible hours are opening their eyes one by one.

Pay heed to the mesmerizing silhouette from behind, and the tears in between.

The desert wind blows in, carving away the walls of the mind.

An occasional, unexpected intent—the hunger grows desperate.

Causing a stir at the center of life, the fallen apple’s shoulders tremble.

The magician secretly, stealthily covets

Dali’s art book hidden inside his hat.

On days when his neck stiffens from trying to soothe colliding tendons,

He stands Gala from the drawer upon a plate.

Shall we stir the hardening spring water with the rhinoceros’s horn?

Shall we borrow the magician’s hat and wear it for just ten months?

Who knows? On the first day of the New Year, in a major daily newspaper,

We might just read the smile of a ripe, red apple.

I am Yeon Myung-ji, a poet from South Korea. I began my literary career in 2013 with the poetry journal <Gasibi>. I have published the poetry collections <Sitting Like an Apple> and <Where Is the House of the Word “I’m Sorry”>, the e-book< Seventeen Marco Polo Sheep>, and the travel essay< Step by Step, Walking the Camino de Santiago>. I have received the Tolstoy Literary Award, Homi Literary Award, Cheongsong Gaekju Literary Award, Aviation Literary Award, and the Bronze Prize in Poetry at the 2025 Literature Asia Awards. My poems have appeared in literary journals and magazines across Asia, Europe, and the Middle East. I continue to write with passion, exploring life, memory, travel, and the human spirit.

My name

I feel estranged from myself 

A lonely wanderer scattered

On existence’s plate

I serve others and look

In their constructed mirrors 

I know I am

But lost in life’s hazy maze

I want to feel

But I have become numb 

And I am used to dwell

In the mist 

The sun’s rays 

Need to touch

my Being

I need to spell

the letters of my name

I need to wear 

The garb of the self

And gather myself 

For I don’t want

To spend my life 

Gathering the scattered 

beads

I need the perfect rosary 

For a peaceful prayer 

©®Shah Jehan Ashrafi, 

Canada

Coaxing my granddaughter to pet the toothless mastiff

             * 

Wishing I had submitted to the Irish x-rays

of my older sister’s totalitarian homilies

            *

Throwing Division I elbows at commercial testimonials

            *

Spitting undigested Ritalin into the faces of boring teachers

            *

He was incapable of anticipating a pleasant evening drive

without the intrusive vision of a 50-car pileup

            *

He was consumed by the probability of asteroid strikes

and the importance of staying hydrated

            *

Even the ease of take-out loomed like a zoonotic hotspot in his mind

            *

Disguising my illiteracy with rabbinical complexity

            *

Tom was the hemophiliac who would beg the other boys to hit him back during our street fights 

            *

He was the lone silverback tracing the monarch’s flight with a thick finger 

We will meet suddenly.

Did you look for me in the far east,

Did you think of me while I was burning?

Then one day Allah will surely

Suddenly, he showed me the way.

Your life is like the sky and the firmament

Your sorrows are like a cloud inside you.

Did you search for me in the sky and blue,

Why haven’t you found me yet?

I can feel it if you can’t find me,

Because you don’t know me yet.

Maybe one day we’ll meet again,

Is it fate that day at the bookstore?

Egamnazarova Shahina Shakhriyor qizi was born on November 28, 2006 in Kashkadarya region. She is currently studying at Turan University, Department of Philology: Language Teaching (Uzbek). She works as the deputy director of the Karshi Medical College.

She is a recipient of the National Hope Badge. Several of her articles have been published in international journals. Articles from Turkey’s “Fountain of Knowledge”, Germany’s “GERMAN INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL” and the article “Science and Education” of Uzbekistan, “Today’s Youth and Reading Issues” is published in “FUTURE DIRECTIONS IN INTERDISCIPLINARY SCIENCE STUDIES”

She’s published in scientific journals and conferences. Her creative works include the story “Gift” published in the republican spiritual-educational, social-popular publication “Inson Manafati”. The poem “Bolaylik soginchi” (Childhood longing) was published in the Kashkadarya newspaper “Oha”, and the story “Kushcha” (Little bird) was published in the creative magazine “Umid uchquni”. She’s a holder of B1 Certificate in English and Turkish.

She’s the founder of the “World Behind the Page” project at Karshi Medical College. Member of the “Leader Girls Club” at Turan University, a group of active girls. In addition, she is the captain of the “Mushoira Club”. She is regularly engaged in scientific and creative activities, prepares scientific articles. She is interested in reading books and poetry. In the future, she aims to become an accomplished specialist in his field and always bring gratitude to her parents.

HUMAN SKILLS IN THE AGE OF ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE

Activities Computers Cannot Fully Replace

Hamroqulova Nilufar G‘ulomjon qizi

Uzbekistan

Author Biography

Hamroqulova Nilufar G‘ulomjon qizi was born in 2011 in Qorako‘l District, Bukhara Region, Uzbekistan. She has participated three times in the Young Reader competition and was also a participant in the national stage of the Tamaddun Reading Competition. She is currently the founder of the Zukko Kitobxon Reading Club.

Abstract

Artificial intelligence is playing an increasingly important role in modern life. It can perform some tasks traditionally carried out by humans and can become a useful assistant in many professions. However, some activities require deeply human skills, including empathy, personal communication, creativity, and practical abilities. This article discusses such human skills and activities.

Keywords

artificial intelligence; automation; future of work; labor market; computers; human skills

Introduction

Artificial intelligence and automation are rapidly changing the labor market. However, the future of work and the labor market also show that computers and algorithms cannot fully replace activities that require deeply human skills.

Pedagogy and Teaching

Teaching is not simply the transfer of information from a teacher to a student. It requires an individual approach to the learner and human interaction.

Psychology and Medical Care

Psychology, medical care, and working with patients require empathy and sincerity. Human communication and a caring attitude are important parts of working with people.

Genuine Creativity

Artificial intelligence can create images, but human creativity also involves personal experience and individual expression. Creating concepts and expressing personal experiences remain important human activities.

Skilled Manual Work

Manual work, farming, working in field conditions, and repairing unexpected problems can require practical human abilities and adaptation to circumstances.

Conclusion

Although artificial intelligence and automation can perform repetitive technical tasks, human skills such as personal communication, ethics, creativity, empathy, and emotional understanding remain important. In the future labor market, people who use technology while developing their unique human abilities can continue to contribute in important ways.

Is Love a Song Title

It was not only charm,

that made her wishes

become my dreams.

She liked the smell of lilacs

and I wanted to become a painter.

From the instant I asked,

if she were waiting

for the stars to forbid the night to end,

she said, 

“I sympathize with the color blue.”

Then I wanted to become a psychologist.

Is love a song title 

or something you say when 

you move from apprentice to master?

She playfully mocked the things that needed to be awakened in me.

She giggled when it was inappropriate,

whether at the movies or at a party.

A moment later, everyone smiled.

And when she turned to me, 

I noticed a cluster of light freckles on her neck.

I wanted to become a serious Shakespearean actor.

There can be a milky silhouette cameo

sometimes found in a peculiarly smelling antique shop 

that knows all your secrets just by passing it.

And you want to move on but find you are buying it. 

And when home,

you hold it

and stare

and curiously

discover it is not meant to keep.

One day while she was listening to music in the wind 

and making a list of novels to be read

I wanted to place the cameo on her dresser,

but though there was space, 

there was no room.

Decisions come,

either by

profession or discovery.

Keeping the hand over a flame 

or in a pocket.

Like looking into glass brick,

you can see form and color, 

but 

can’t judge distance or depth. 

One day 

I was in a bar with friends

who were applauding all that I despised.

I found my phone and looked at her name,

but I could never make that call.

Like great Art,

all expectations must remain illusions.

She 

became someone who others went to for answers.

Someone greatly loved.

And I,

I looked in many reference books 

to find that definition.

You can find me at bookstores, 

maybe at the theatre

or at a nightspot where I am easy to find 

because I am laughing the loudest.

But you will never find me 

found.