Review of Paul Barnard's poem, "Didn't Expect This" August 3, 2024 " DIDN'T EXPECT THIS" I know...your bones mean well chartering undertones...that don't sell well But, it's characterizing your hype as most stressingly, unwell. Shouldering that extracting, what lays piping your organical mind Births as panicky amusements distracting a serious rhyme whilst wasting tickings precisely picking up your kickings, lagging chimes Whereby, alike every stowaway's share humping along a friendship line your wear of unconscious cares don't see baffled seas saddling grapplings rippling wrangles sapping our graphic dams Awhile your flooded causings, watering attributes, pausing our pans convincingly dampened to own what lies in argumentative storms of which whether your fronts will weather Atchoo...oh you handed me a cold Look, pal for your character to truly climatically sell I think I gotta paddle back home and re-float your bib that braces your attitudes tone Grr...darn modus operandi humans © PAUL BARNARD South Africa Editor's Review: The poet delves into the intricate realm of human emotions and the internal struggles that accompany them, employing vivid imagery and poignant tones depicting complexities of character and the burdens of emotional turmoil. Paul's poem is structured as a series of thought-provoking verses, delving deeper into a landscape of emotion, evocative language such as "chartering undertones", "shouldering extraction" and "rippling wrangles", adds even more depth to the emotional poetic narrative. The poem explores conflict between one's outward persona and inner struggles, portraying a sense of emotional discord as well as touching on the nuances of interpersonal relationships and the unconscious burdens individuals carry with friendship. "Didn't Expect This" delves into emotions, like stress, panic and confusion, effectively conveying the weight of feelings through metaphorical language. "DIDN'T EXPECT THIS" is quite the intense exploration of human emotion, characterized by rich language and depth along with portrayal of internal struggles and interpersonal dynamics and the compelling reflection on the complexities of human character and emotional resilience. Annette Nasser EIC ILA Magazine USA

"REPLY FROM THE UNKNOWN LADY" (Reply to a poem by Saqlain Mustaq) Here is your letter - unmarked and unnamed "To an unknown lady" - the bemusing envelope, I wonder how it arrived. Inside, the script of a rover - curious about beautiful ladies. Words spill like a secret confession, a tapestry of lust and loss. I was just gazing at your torn shoe, you took it to heart otherwise. No, I never forgot you I too, am a poet of fleeting lovers A negative reply, yet not an end The letter rests now in my hands try again, I am waiting for another. "EXISTENTIAL ANGST" I am sick of earth, a disconnection of breath is all to mail my bones in half-rates for cineration is not working well enough. Wrap me with bare dreams see if you can veil my body, I have loved on the December clouds, no mortal can see me naked. I am overexposed, I am as far as Chile, I am purposely mad, you can build a whole life with only three worlds - I love you. More fleshy than a pig, earth will refuse my history, did I ever live here, once it had a cave named Hira.

"STARDUST" Love is a conqueror shoots silver arrows but if it happens that you refuse him it throws you into the marshes! He is a fierce warrior He holds you like a booty As "slave" you follow your golden crown wears! After the violent invasion flowers of the soul have withered you are in divine court your spirit is enchanted! You go through secret passages swallow tails fly low you arrive at the Parthenon as a king they wear your purple tunic! That's where your life shines in the stone-pillared alleys stardust is gathering in five-petalled lilies! Unsuspecting, you taste it you think it is the nectar of the gods. You never heal follower of the passions... "BIRTH" On earth, the small island thousands of young storks they go to sea, arrive running. With evening sky, our home destination flutter a nest, they do! On earth, the small island a child arrives of God's path for years. He lets out his first cry of joy is anticipation. He shines like a white viconia. We all set up a dance in our own sky anticipating songs of the wind which brings us to you treasure of the whole world my perfect sea angel! I will drink you like wine giving you a kiss. It resurrects from the darkness! You bring the light with you clothed in purple. You sleep in hugs and caressses! "SONGSTER" My love is a vocalist away in the marshes. He is my only hymn. He will bring me to you. To taste your rainbow, climax of honey in your garden as soon as I come from your heavenly arrows. Peacock fans its wings cheeks flaming after the heart was flooded pleasure from the buds. Andromachi Benekou was born in Chouliarades, Ioannina. Her love for books and development pushed her to study Economics, Pedagogy and postgraduate studies in learning disabilities. At the same time, she is a poet, puppeteer, painter and author, her projects have been performed in many schools. Her puppet plays include poems she has been writing since high school. She has been distinguished for her voluntary activity in institutions of Ioannina, with the promotion of Greek literature and culture.

When you kiss, and touch me only, the whole world is ours. We both know that you intoxicate me with your touch and undress me with your eyes. You have no idea how attractive you are to me. Like a gentle breeze of wind, ruffling my hair, gently brushing lips over my nose, I tremble from this madness and if I stop enjoying, I wouldn't dare. Our bodies joined together only in your arms, I am so loved. Only your lips, sweeter than honey. I don't want your hug from me. Your kisses all over, you've awakened the fire in a woman like this. We both go crazy with longing and passion, stealing each other's kisses I melt when you gaze into my eyes yet I also know how to fight back and conquer easily as you fall under my spell. My heart no longer cares for peace. Crazy pounding, my soul burns, my mind fighting with itself while my soul burns, my mind is fighting with itself while locking lips I lose my mind What are you doing to me that I should kiss you with the same fire © Danijela Ćuk

It's All from a... 'T' to 'U' Imagine you are asked to design a T-shirt with a meaningful, humorous or even an insignificant message....Well, we did just that with poets from our Facebook group and chose three messages that stood out among the rest... "YOU ARE A PIANOFORTE" Loud sounds come from your mouth when you want your opinions to be heard or anger is let out after so long, like an erupting volcano But see how soft the sounds that your heart makes, when it finally finds the inner peace it was seeking! It makes you join the angels' choir to sing for joy, or express your feelings of love through music. You can be loud and soft depending on your reaction to what life gives you along its way. © Gheorghe Laura Romania "BITTERSWEET" So bittersweet you are giving me beautiful memories but also hard times. Still, I can not let you because I became addicted. You are like a medicine that needs to be taken so sour, but so good. © Bogdana Gageanu Romania "LIFE IS FULL OF BITTERSWEET MEMORIES - HUMOR THEM AND ENJOY LIFE..." The holiday outing ended with a bittersweet note due to unexpected rain. The cab driver had to return in the rain almost blindsighted. We were all in fear, expecting Dad's spitfire reprimand awaiting us for our misadventure. When the cab reached home, we stepped down and paused under the sunshade; Dad was playing a classical tune on the pianoforte. We were happy to know that Dad was in his rare, quieter disposition and there would be no shouting of 'begone'. We went inside and Dad was happy to see us safe and home. We dined together and regaled Dad about our adventure in the rain. © Kalucharan Sahu India

"I got frozen in the Patriot Hills, ripened within myself' Sometimes when the sun appears, Snow starts to wail, 'What a century! Since when I was vulnerable Snow eaters devour me?' I am in a country, My root goes back to the ice age. Since humans set foot in my land, Climate has destroyed my nature, I am now hit My future will be a miscarriage baby, I might not produce offspring! Oh humans! How foolish are you? You created a flag for me, So that the other six territories Melt in me, Look, besides period and semicolon That appear in my mountains, Commas grow in my plains. In some places, it is snowing, Languishing my stories. Along the way, my body is frozen My feet provides my soul with another air, Tipsy with the slushy snow. My feet do not need a coat of snow, The ancient snow had no name on the summits, People come here jumping on planes, using parachutes To live in this icy territory; I set a tent in Patriot base camp My groans mix with snowflakes at night. I cannot read the stars, Looking at my fingers, Shivering, As if, they were asteroids falling from the space. I hugged my knees, At this midnight, thought of yester night Why I am so pale in this whiteness and Cannot go back to insomnia. I came outside like a night watch Startled people, Each grabbed a lamp I redrew the Kurdistan map for them on snow, Look! Its limps have horseshoes. Its head neighs like a horse, Pay attention to its head, a head of Western women, The wolves want to behead it so that It stops neighing! My home is a child, Its cord is not cut Its liver and intestines Are extracted by the political parties. Even now Its heart is a blazing fire, A flame that smokes, People want to be a flame, but are not allowed. No word is uttered by itself, Some words contain history Turned hundreds of words into one word, For instance: Kurd and mountain, Kurd and diaspora, Kurd and rebel, Mountain, diaspora and rebel are The summary of hundreds of books Have come out, To be read in this fast wheel Keep their heads out of other books! ©Peshawa Kakayi Translated by Goran Sabah ** Peshawa Abdalla Abdalrahman , also known as (Peshawa Kakayi), is a Kurdish poet and writer. He was born on April 19, 1984, in Qaladze, Kurdistan Region of Iraq. He completed his primary, secondary and high school education in the same city. In 2008-2009, he obtained a bachelor's degree in political sciences from Sulaimaniyah University. He has published articles in many newspapers and publications. He has published 21 collections of poems, written and published a research book, and a book on poetry based on four in-depth interviews. He also wrote a literary diary, that's an average of 24 books so far. He also has four books ready for publication, two of which are research and two of which are poetry. Several studies and readings have been conducted on his poems. In addition, ten undergraduate studies have been conducted on his poems. Peshawa has also translated four books into Persian. He has translated a collection of poems into Arabic. He contributed toward a book entitled 'Poets for Peace', published in Tunisia. He also has contributed to an anthology book entitled "The Multinational Pen Soldiers", prepared and published by Mohammed Shamsul Haq Babu of Bangladesh. Several of his poems have also been translated into other languages including Albania, Uzbek, Spanish, Igbo, English, Indonesian, Bengali, Bosnian, Polish, Chinese, Russian, Serbian, Arabic, Persian, Kazakh, Kyrgyz and Macedonian. He has been published in the United States in the first and second volumes of the American poetry journal, 'Paradise on EARTH', an international anthology. He has also received seventeen awards in 2020, 2021 and 2022. Goran Sabah Bio: Goran Sabah is a novelist, critic and translator based in Erbil, a capital of Iraqi Kurdistan. His notable works include 'Cheap Humans' (Science Fiction), 'How to Critique Novels' (Criticism) and 'How to Write Novels.'

Do you remember when we spoke of swans? The seasons pass so quickly, While age passes by so slow, It seems like only yesterday - That I was there. I can still see the colours Of the sunshine on the lake, I can still see the white cob, As he rose into the air. 'Do you remember when we spoke of swans?' (Now I'm talking to myself, That's a sure and certain sign of getting old) I told you that they loved just once, And when their partner died, They were destined to live on the lake alone. You thought that was so very sad, And I, at the time agreed, Not knowing all those years ago - I was talking about me. ********** Rainbow It appeared as if by magic a carousel of light stretching across a sky that threatened rain. A mirage of colours rising from the west then settling on a field just near my home. What did the ancient people think when it first appeared a prelude of a message from the Gods? A rainbow bridge that led them to another world beyond? an omen from a loved one that had gone? In my day I believed that's where leprechauns hid their pots of gold on the very spot where it came to land. But although I rushed and searched the field it always seemed to be the next until it just grew tired of my silly game - slowly faded and was gone. © John Anthony Fingleton (Löst Viking) Review: John Anthony Fingleton's poem, "Do you remember when we spoke of swans?" resonates deeply with themes of time passing, loneliness, and reflection on life's fleeting moments. The imagery of swans, symbolizing love and loss, is poignant and evokes a sense of melancholy. The contrast between the swift passage of seasons and the slow march of age beautifully captures the bittersweet essence of growing older. The poem's structure, with its conversational tone and introspective musings, invites readers to contemplate their own experiences of love, loss and the passage of time. The vivid description of the sunshine on the lake and the image of the solitary swan rising into the air creates a vivid scene that stays with the reader long after reading. In conclusion, "Do you remember when we spoke of swans?" is a heartfelt reflection on the inevitability of change and the enduring power of memories. It touches on universal emotions with a gentle yet profound voice, making it a compelling piece that speaks to the human condition. "Rainbow" by John Anthony Fingleton, complements "Do you remember when we spoke of swans?" with its contemplative tone and exploration of natural wonder. The poem vividly describes the appearance of a rainbow, likening it to a "carousel of light" amidst threatening rain. This imagery immediately draws the reader into a scene where the mundane meets the magical. Similar to the first poem, "Rainbow" contemplates the perceptions of ancient peoples and personal childhood beliefs. It suggests that rainbows might have been seen as mystical bridges or omens, connecting the ordinary world with something transcendent or spiritual. The mention of leprechauns and pots of gold adds a touch of whimsy, contrasting with the deeper reflections on human curiosity and the fleeting nature of wonder. Both poems share a common thread of nostalgia and introspection, reflecting on how perceptions evolve with age and experience. While "Do you remember when we spoke of swans?" focuses on the passage of time and solitude, "Rainbow" explores the intersection of reality and imagination, suggesting that even as we grow older, elements of magic and wonder continue to shape our perceptions of the world. Together, these poems invite readers to reflect on the intersection of memory, nature, and human imagination, offering a poignant glimpse into the complexities of the human experience across different stages of life. Reviewed by: Concetta Pipia ILA Magazine Contributing Editor/Reviewer *** John Anthony Fingleton Bio: John Anthony Fingleton was born in Cork City, Republic of Ireland, and has lived in various countries including the UK, France, Mexico, and has completed six tours in different African states with the French Armed Forces. Currently residing in Paraguay, Latin America, Fingleton's poetry has been published in journals and anthologies across Ireland, the UK, USA, India, and France. His work has been featured on Irish and American radio, as well as in Spanish on Latin American broadcasts. He has contributed to several books of poetry for children and had his poems included in numerous national and international journals, blogs, reviews, and anthologies. Fingleton's accolades include being named Poet of the Year (2016) by Destiny Poets International Community, Poet of the Month (March 2019) by Our Poetry Archive, and Poet of the Month (April 2019) by The League of Poets. He was also recognized as Author of the Month by Spillwords in December 2020 and was nominated for Author of the Year by Spillwords in 2020. His poems have been selected for anthologies in India, South America, the UK, and the USA, some translated into local languages. Additionally, Fingleton's words from two Viking poems were arranged and recorded by the group Valkrym in May 2024. He is the author of several anthologies, including 'Poems from the Shadowlands' (November 2017), 'Words That Found Me' (December 2019), 'Poems From The Banks' (January 2020), 'Poems from a Restricted Place' (April 2020), 'Secret Fjords' (May 2020), 'A Gathering Of Words' (June 2020), 'Lost Places Other Poems' (January 2021), and 'Late Snows and other Facebook Poems' (October 2022).

The Harmony of Visual Art and Poetry "THE COLOR OF US" We are all born stark naked our first hour most special inspection, swift our first notes a blessed concert of life, our genes precious giving us our unique skin - Red, our introduction into this world, cream screams alert, our satisfaction of life, gifted blue, our orbs brown hazel spark bright, our promise of everlasting blessed light promise bright - first notes, our lullaby each coo and aah, delightful new life ignites - Loved ones rush to welcome new life, admiration at a high, smiles abound, yellow, our happiness bright alight sparkling, glistening magenta, our concern dissipating quickly rushing to teach belief, actions white, examples found in family DNA, lessons learned future life precious yellow, hope green, our love for nature teaching us to ensure our environment is protected - Appreciated, educated Sky - blue hope to protect not to neglect or else black hope will puncture our orange love light brightening glowing golden hope in our daily lives... Live Life Love Life Paint your life brighter than ever before... You matter. We matter. Let us combine our inner super trooper light as we shine together forever... As we release our inner lights... © Don Afrika Beukes (Painting also by poet) France "WAITING" (Haibun) While waiting for our granddaughters who would have their ballet recital in two hours, my husband and I took time to grab a nap at a friendly coffee shop, and I, on the watch for interesting shots, took this photo while he was having forty winks. Sleepless, I take out My flute, Basho, to play to A brand new haiku © Ma. Milagros T. Dumdum Philippines "EMPTY ME" These planks, a seat for silence These rims, a stick to silence These empty eyes, cart unexplored dreams Is silence an entity? Or universe. © Mushtaque B. Barq (Photography by Poet - above) Jammu/Kashmir "Shahjanabad Café", painting by Amitabh Mitra. " SHAHJANABAD CAFÉ" This happened again on a strange café noon river days flew where a distance left a crooked wind a lone fort gaunt daring again to remember memories stuck to mirrors we had seen each other so often then cups, glasses and lips all together happened again and in the midst of a forest sleep our eyes once again rode many a writhing storm voices staged suddenly where I had once touched you again. © AMITABH MITRA SOUTH AFRICA Art by Shweta Sahai "ELYSIUM" I forage for you In the love songs of yesteryear The trammels of convention Had imprisoned me then Now that senescence has immured me My spirit has been freed A birdsong has come alive The little sparrow Perched on the curlicues of my condominium bursts into a refrain My spirit becomes one with yours Like the chirring and the chirping amidst the colonnade of trees in the garden of Elysium. © Shweta Sahai India Photography of Abdallah Ibn Edriss "OLOLUFE MI" (My Lover) If "L" in life represents you, Layla, the rest will still be your name ifé (love), 'cuz far atop that iroko tree, is a symbol of your victory in my heart. Thus is roses are red and violets are blue, your lips would be a thornless flower, that candle my way to the sacred temple, far deep into the meadows of órun. Your existence gave life a meaning; A purpose and now it's you I'm needing Take my heart with you in this calabash And travel the sea of eternity, and wait For me where heaven meets earth. © Abdallah Ibn Edriss Nigeria Photography by Gheorghe Laura "THE WAIT" I'm standing on the Titan's knee, Looking around in awe and fear As the sea urges me to swim, After all, it is a hot summer's day. I politely refused for the hundredth time Despite being tempted to do it. The laughter of my peers echo across the seafront, Asking me, "When will I come join them?" Being in my teenage years, The world seems bigger than I expected, So, it's better to wait for the right moment To spread my wings and fly towards the sky. "When will it come? Is it worth the wait?" © Gheorghe Laura Romania Photography by Jurine Garcia "SUNRISE AND SUNSET" It's really nice to see, every time I look at you. Your gentle warmth, that soothes my sadness. In all - the - day and overnight adventures I'm always waiting for you. Every time seeing your beauty, You remove my depression and anxiety I feel that I am free from everything... I know the time will come when I won't see you anymore. I have no regrets.. Because once in my life, you made me feel That with every dip and rise, I found rest. © Jurine Garcia Philippines Photography of Sonal Rao "COOL DUDE" Your stand was exuberant but mine wasn't that cheerful! Your smile was jovial but mine wasn't that ebullient! Your confidence was backslapping but mine wasn't that unreserved! How come you're so loud or Why are you so warm? You shared a pain in that enthusiastic moment But it did seem real! You seemed to mock at my energetic Presence with a vivacious smile! Aren't we all a part of this animated drama With a tearful soul, trying to fit in ardently??? © Sonal Rao India Artwork by Matt Elmore "PAPA ELEPH ANT" It's all over you done left we lost the baby I'll never forget we were so happy everything was set you smiled at me I'll never forget we told everyone without regret everyone knew I'll never forget we bought a crib nothing we didn't get but our little darlin' I'll never forget you got sick we didn't expect it too happened I'll never forget It's all over you've done left I lost you both I'll never forget. © Matt Elmore USA Art above by Andree Malenoir Featured in a slideshow "THAT NIGHT " A Queen of the Ocean A ship full of dreams Magnificent liner It's not all it seems Unsinkable giant Buoyed up by the waves No cause to be fearful A Star of her age! She was built there in Belfast Shipyard...Harland & Wolff Alongside her sisters She was proud of herself Tho Olympic, Gigantic... They would both meet their fate But TITANIC lives on... And so does the debate! So what caused her demise? It's an iceberg, we're told... There's no doubt that this happened On that night, in the cold! Could the rivets be faulty? Did a fire rage within? Well yes, both of these 'things'... Are the place to begin! Yes, a fire burnt within her And the rivets were weak That they popped out on impact Then they started the leak Very soon tons of water Well it deluged the ship And it didn't take long For her head just to dip! As she sank in the ocean There were many who died There were so many questions Before 'they' could decide... Whether negligence caused The worst maritime wreck And why were the lifeboats Far too few on the deck? Well the questions still come But the answers are few... And did the 'White Star' Have answers? I believe some of them knew! © Andree Malenoir UK Photography by Sheila Ann "ADIEU TO SUN" Time is moving so slow today and it burned the grass So hot and humid, I thought I would pay homage with the white wind and white birds of Chimborazo where the mountains festooned with white clouds, I journeyed towards the westering sun until I was burning flesh. I asked the wise but vexatious aubade He laughed seeing my discomfort toil. The vast trees of the land are no more, broken and devoured. The soil is tattered The very faces that I saw were gloomy and hated the reddened sun. He told me that he washed his hands at the heathen of humans of the rays that came and passed as he coddiwompled to other regions, and I quailed adn befuddled as my days were graced by the moon and the stars. © Sheila Ann Malaysia Artwork Title: "The Last Autumn Sunsets Under the Pomegranate Trees" Artist: Mehrangiz Talaiezadeh Country: Iran Style: Hyperrealism Size 30cm x 36cm Materials: Polychromos colored pencils on Stenbach cardboard Signed painting © 2021 "THE LAST AUTUMN SUNSETS UNDER THE POMEGRANATE TREES" The last autumn sunsets under the pomegranate trees The pomegranate trees; full of red ruby seeds full of jewelry beads; The jewelry beads embedded in shields; The shields full of sweet and bitter weeps; The sweet and bitter weeps flows through human lives; The human lives full of shades and glitter lits; The glitter lits on a flory plain in pretty reds; The pretty reds over the chaise; The chaise with tea ware parties, the parties, full of intimacies The intimacies with raw almonds, tricolor is In the last autumn sunsets under the pomegranate trees The spirit of honesty breeze In the peace pure jungles. © Mehrangiz Talaiezadeh Iran Photography by Gloria Magallanes-Loeb "SEEKING" Seeking a better view from above Will I find happiness and love? The massive azure blueness of the sky Assures me with comfort even up high My beaming heart is full of desire Can't fathom much longer to acquire This beautiful feeling that am inspired To hold unto before the sunset expires Gives me hope that my fate will come As we meet before dusk, when Nightingale sings not be glum! © Gloria Magallanes-Loeb USA

Featuring eight poets who wrote beautiful subtleties of nostalgia THE AESTIVAL TIME IS HERE TO STAY! In the passage of time, the ghosts of past Memories are never lost, they keep on Coming to us like a family Aestival season is the virtual reservoir Of vast memories, mostly sweet when in Our innocent childhood, our time is spent in Games and playing pranks We generally lampooned everything around and lengthened deliberately The reign of satire of our own making Visiting the orchards full of mango trees was Our most favorite pastime, and picking the Unripe green mango fruits was for us - an act sublime Once, we climbed a tree for this treasure - hunt, But soon, wind started to blow, who knew that It will convert into a yellow storm, and We would be subjected to face the brunt Forcing us to live in a terror zone! Those nocturnal moments are unforgettable Which got stuck forever with the memories of, That otherwise pleasant and lovely aestival time. © Rakesh Chandra India "Untitled" In the passage of time, my love only became stronger! An estival in my heart came to grieve an aestival when The ring on your finger mocked my unnecessary presence! Strong sillage of our selenic bond was bound to die a slow Death painfully but a brief sojourn kept it alive! You didn't give up on me when I was in my secure place, Away from you, never wanting to see or hear from you! Your strong heart made me brave enough to fall for you again, Confidently without any hesitation! © Sonal Rao India "CLOSE MEMORIES" In the passage of time, I feel an estival chill When I remember vacation and summer breeze I miss the touch of the sea and the play of the wind I miss the cool feeling of summer walks in sand The song of the waves washes away the black thoughts And I am living an awakening experience. Until the new meeting with the shore of the sea I let my head and soul drown in nostalgic beauty. © Bogdana Gageanu Romania "SUMMER MEMORIES" In the passage of time estival thoughts flood my memories Our selenic moments parade in the corners of my mind Under the spell of the moon, your sillage fills my aching heart As, in my sojourn, I lay in bed in deep, nostalgic thoughts. © L. B. Morandarte Philippines "MY COMMUNITY" "In the passage of time" Our hardened hearts, wrecked its glory Into a sordid tower of story The echoes of regret chime. Out of ego, we corroded our peace Threading the path, just a piece Where no one gains nothing Taking ignorance as something Ourselves destruction triggered From the minds, so angered. Why do we sojourn on jejunity To lose our communal amity? Our once blossomed homes Are now doomed to roam. I reminisce over the past When we travelled on foot From one community to another as a mast Our very ancestral root We can no longer be proud of The handed-over peace, written off. I wish I could still perceive it The communal silicate that lit With candor of brotherly camaraderie Our habitat, now deserted and weary And the aborigines marooned In the gulag, their homes crooned Oh my home, oh, my home! When shall I see the home Where we were born into peace? How can I pacify to everyone's pease? My community, my torrent of tears Deserted, making everyone living in fear. Come back, Aila, the very one of our birth Not this aberrated one without mirth Ocho Omanchala, heal our land To become our real fatherland. © Ikwulono Mohammed Senison Nigeria "ESTIVAL MEMORIES" In the passage of time, through crystal tears, Happy memories can't be erased. Brought to the surface every year Through the five senses plus one, We cherish them in the drawers of our heart. The laughter of seagulls echoing across the beach As I was building a castle from the sands of time. Like a fairy dancing at the ball, I frolicked on floral meadows Without the burden of life's challenges, Still feeling the fresh fragrance to this day Every time I retreat into nature's temple During the sojourn at the summer house, Where surrounded by loved ones, I always like to recall the good times From when the world was filled with wonders In my curious mind as a child. © Gheorghe Laura Romania "THE SUMMER OF MY YOUTH" In the passage of time, estival thoughts fly the sillage of the blooms evoke memories of bygone summers awashed in selenic light when youth knows no reason or fright. Fusion of colors in my younger years serves as backdrop of joy no sign of tears each passing day a vivid tapestry of woven dreams, sprouting into reality. The senses pried open silent awakenings of simple pleasures and sometimes longing of those days of yore and yearning daybreaks, sundowns all agog with longing. The summer of my youth now a thing of the past, reminiscing sunny escapades meant to last never too late to remember cool summer nights with waning embers. © Rosemarie Miranda Philippines "WITH THE PASSAGE OF TIME EVERYTHING CHANGES" In the passage of time we lose Many a gem of peerless worth The childish smiles and babbles Wear the mask of rigid quietness The estival evenings, hoary grey, Gaze at the dwindling Hyperion Making figures out of clouds All, with the passage of time, Has blown away by sheer winds Of the hostile Time The nights, under Selenic sheen Of pleasanter hue One reads Endymion Lying on the thatched roof Of a homely domicile Beneath the azure wonder of nature Sojourning all day long at the edge Of vast wavy corn fields Under cooler shadowy berry trees Reading the wittiest wits of yore The flaring boyish dreams Sleep somewhere in the cave Of forgetfulness, all that early zeal The fondness, whirling emotions Of the dawning puberty All get lost in the passage of time Aestival swims in the river Among a crowd of friends The purest joy of sultry June All, with the passage of time, Has wilted quite, ah! the times. © Safdar Bhatti Pakistan

Featuring the creative work of 13 Poets Sweet Music Powerful And magical Highlights vespertide Its mystic spell Titillates Lonely Hearts © Myrtle Reyes E. Tejada Philippines "FISH STORY" I'm like a fish, I have to restrain my - self from going to the beach, stay till vespertide, jangly sun © Sheila Ann Malaysia There she stood in the rain with red flowers that were in full bloom waiting for him Nascent love racing heart © Priayalakshmi Gogoi India "SERENADE" Moon aureate glow at night Stars dazzling high splash of magic dreams Come fill the void of my life embrace me © Gloria Magallanes-Loeb USA "LIFE AND LOVE" Life nascent like eoan dissolving soon in the vespertide to resurrect a raceme of love anon © Shweta Sahai India Time Present Co-exist Encompassing Infinite cycle Till eoan lapse Unfolding The past End © Dolo Rez Philippines Morn blesses eoan light embraces all uplifts existence of nascent life amidst strife shines bright morn © Rupa Rao USA "SUNSET" Sleep for sun aureate until next day when the bright light comes glorious way of going to bed soon © Bogdana Gageanu Romania "POETRY ON GOLDEN RING" Ring golden aureate adorns finger enhances countance ornamental poetry offers verse © Subhashchandra Adhav India " THE ASSIDUOUS STARS" Stars at sky nascent glow in vespertide beaming aureate twinkling gladly amuse me in sad night © Ency Bearis USA " A LOVE TO BE SHARED" Gifts received ought to be always nurtured and taken cared of with all efforts then shared as nascent love © Joey V. Fernandez Philippines "BUMBLEBEES" The late spring aureates with a maze of colors, and the bees bumble around humming for honey sweet © Kalucharan Sahu India "ASSIDUOUS MOON" Moon ascends like raceme in eoan sky at vespertide span soothing the pain with healing nascent beam © Prasanna Bhatta India

© By Dexter Amoroso As the city embraced the twilight, Anthony's purposeful strides echoed a silent plea for the revival of family values, a clarion call in the fading light. "Family values matter," he cried out to the people passing by. "The strength of our families determines the strength of our society. We must preserve traditional structures." Anthony knew all too well the pain of broken families. He had seen firsthand how divorce had torn his own family apart. But Anthony also knew that he could make a difference. He would be the change he wanted to see in the world. As he reached the crowded city center, Anthony began to attract a small crowd. He spoke of the importance of preparing for married life, of teaching children the value of commitment and love. The crowd began to murmur in agreement, and Anthony saw hope in their eyes. One woman in the crowd, Joyce, raised her voice in protest. "But we must also respect freedom of religion," she argued. "Not everyone shares your beliefs, Anthony." Anthony nodded thoughtfully. "Joyce, you are right. Everyone has the right to their own beliefs. But we also have a duty to engage in open dialogue, to challenge each other, and to uphold rationality in our society. Divorce is a serious issue, and we cannot shy away from discussing it." Joyce looked unconvinced, but she listened intently. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Anthony continued to share his message with the growing crowd. His voice grew even more passionate as he spoke of the harm done to children by divorce. "Imagine a child, shuttled between estranged parents, bearing scars that will last a lifetime. Is this the society we want to create? Is this the legacy we want to leave for our children?" The crowd fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. In that moment, Anthony knew he had made a difference. The seed of change had been planted. Anthony's work was not done. He knew that his message must reach beyond the city center, beyond the crowd that had gathered. So, he began to visit schools, churches, community centers, anywhere he could spread his message. He talked to parents, teachers, community leaders, urging them to take action. "We must strengthen our families, our communities," he said. "We must teach our children the importance of family values and the power of commitment. We cannot let them fall victim to the pain of divorce." At first, the progress was slow. There were skeptics and detractors, and Anthony faced many challenges. Some community leaders were resistant to his ideas, and others felt that his approach was too idealistic. But Anthony persisted, believing in the power of his message. One night, after a particularly challenging day, Anthony sat down with his wife, Samantha. She had been his rock, supporting him through every step of his journey. "Samantha, sometimes I wonder if I'm really making a difference," Anthony confessed, his voice tinged with doubt. Samantha smiled gently and took his hand. "Anthony, you've already touched so many lives. Change doesn't happen overnight. It's a slow process, but every step forward counts. Remember why you started this journey." Her words comforted him, and Anthony felt a renewed sense of purpose. He decided to focus on building a stronger foundation for his movement. He began collaborating with local organizations, offering workshops on communication and conflict resolution for families. Meanwhile, Anthony and Samantha's children, Lily and Ben, were growing up. They were often involved in their father's work, attending events and helping where they could. Lily, the older of the two, was particularly inspired by her father's dedication. "Dad, I want to help more," Lily said one evening. "Can I start a club at school to talk about family values and support kids going through tough times?" Anthony's heart swelled with pride. "That's a wonderful idea, Lily. You have a big heart, and I know you'll make a difference." Lily's club quickly gained traction, and she became a beacon of support for her peers. Ben, though younger, was also deeply affected by his father's mission. He often helped with organizing events and even gave his own small speeches about the importance of family. As Anthony's movement gained momentum, he began to see more tangible results. Families who attended his workshops reported better communication and stronger relationships. Schools implemented programs to teach children about commitment and love. Community centers offered support groups for parents and children affected by divorce. However, the journey was not without setbacks. Anthony faced criticism from those who believed his message was too focused on traditional values, and not inclusive enough of diverse family structures. He realized he needed to adapt his approach to be more inclusive. One day, Joyce approached him after a workshop. "Anthony, I think it's time we address the needs of all families, not just the traditional ones. Single parents, same-sex couples, blended families - they all need support, too." Anthony nodded, recognizing the truth in her words. "You're right, Joyce. Family values should be about love and commitment, regardless of the family structure. Let's work on expanding our message to be more inclusive." This shift in approach brought new challenges, but it also broadened the reach of Anthony's movement. More people began to join his cause, and the message of love and commitment resonated with an even wider audience. One day, Anthony received a letter form a young girl named Rose, whose parents were going through a difficult divorce. She had been shuttled between homes, feeling lost and alone. Anthony read the letter with a heavy heart. Here was a child, just like he had once been, suffering from the wounds of divorce. In that moment, Anthony knew what he had to do. He traveled to Rose's hometown, determined to help her and others like her. Anthony met with Rose and her parents, listening as they shared their stories of heartbreak and misunderstanding. He saw the pain and confusion in their eyes, and he knew that he could not leave them in this state. "You are all hurting," he said gently. "But you can heal from this. Family is not just about a piece of paper or a signature on a document. Family is about love, about support, about commitment. You can choose to be a family, even if the marriage is over." Rose's parents listened intently, tears welling in their eyes. In the days that followed, Anthony worked with Rose and her parents to help them find a way forward. He encouraged them to focus on their love for Rose, to put her needs first and find ways to co-parent together, even if they were no longer married. Slowly, they began to heal. They started to communicate better, to put aside their differences for the sake of their child. And Rose began to smile again, to laugh and play as children should. News of their transformation spread through the town, and people began to see that family values and healing were possible, even in the wake of divorce. As more people heard about Anthony's work, his movement grew stronger. Families were reconnecting, communities were coming together, and love was winning out over hate. In the years that followed, Anthony's foundation, now officially named the Anthony Foundation for Family Values, expanded its reach. It opened counseling centers for families in crisis, sponsored educational programs for children, and even lobbied for legislative changes to support families. The journey was not without obstacles. There were political and financial challenges, and not all communities were receptive to the foundation's initiatives. But Anthony and his team persevered, driven by their commitment to making a difference. Samantha played a crucial role in this expansion. As a fellow advocate for family values, she brought her own insights and ideas to the table. Together, they worked on creating programs that were inclusive and supportive of all types of families. One of the most impactful programs developed by the foundation was the "Family Day" initiative. Once a month, families were encouraged to set aside a day to spend together, without any distractions. Families were encouraged to turn off their devices, to share meals and stories, and to reconnect with one another. The impact of Family Day was far-reaching. Relationships improved, stress levels decreased, and children's academic performances improved. As the Anthony Foundation continued to flourish, Anthony's personal life also underwent a transformation. He had met a woman named Samantha, a fellow advocate for family values, and they had fallen deeply in love. They were now married and had two young children. Seeing how his own family had been transformed by the values he had championed, Anthony felt a renewed sense of purpose. He became even more committed to his work, traveling with his family whenever possible to share his message. Meanwhile, Joyce's legacy also lived on through the Anthony Foundation. One day, while Anthony was speaking at an event in Paris, he received a call from Samantha. "I have some news," she said. Joyce's nephew contacted me. He wants to meet with you. Apparently, Joyce left you something in her will." Anthony was surprised but agreed to meet with Joyce's nephew. They set a date, and Anthony made arrangements to fly home. When the day arrived, Anthony and Samantha met Joyce's nephew at his home. The man handed Anthony and old journal, its pages filled with Joyce's handwriting. Anthony carefully flipped through the journal, reading Joyce's words. They were raw and honest, filled with her pain and struggle. But they also revealed a deep compassion and empathy for the world. As he read, Anthony began to understand the depth of Joyce's commitment to their cause. He also realized that, despite their differences, Joyce had shared his passion for making the world a better place. "She believe in you, Anthony," Joyce's nephew said. "She believed in your vision. And she wanted you to have this." Anthony felt a profound sense of gratitude. He knew that Joyce's words would continue to guide him on his journey. In the following years, the Anthony Foundation grew even more influential. Anthony was invited to speak at the United Nations, where he shared his message of love, commitment, and the importance of family values. "The strength of our families determines the strength of our society," he declared to the assembled leaders. "We must teach our children the power of love and commitment, and we must support families in every way we can." The response was overwhelmingly positive, and the foundation received support from around the world. Governments and organizations began to implement policies and programs inspired by Anthony's work, leading to significant improvements in family cohesion and child well-being. Anthony's legacy continued to grow, and his foundation became a beacon of hope for families everywhere. His message had transcended borders and cultures, touching the hearts of millions. Years later, as Anthony looked out at a world transformed by his efforts, he felt a deep sense of fulfillment. He had dedicated his life to breaking the cycle of brokenness, and he had succeeded. But he also knew that the work was never truly done. There would always be families in need of support, children in need of love, and communities in need of healing. And so, with a heart full of hope and determination, Anthony continued his journey, knowing that every step forward brought the world closer to a brighter, more loving future. "Breaking the Cycle" is a story of transformation and hope, of the power of love and commitment to heal even the deepest wounds. Through the tireless efforts of one man and his family, the world was changed for the better, and the cycle of brokenness was finally broken.

Laszlo Aranyi (Frater Azmon), poet, anarchist, occultist from Hungary. Earlier books: "(szellem) válaszok", "A Nap és Holderök egyensúlya", "Kiteritett rókabör. His poems in English have appeared in over a hundred journals. Recent book published, "Delirium &...The Seven Haiku" (Published by DEAD MAN'S PRESS INK, ALBANY, NY 2023). Laszlo has been nominated several times for international awards. Known spiritualist mediums, art and explores the relationship between magic. "I am marginalized in my own country!" To find out more about Laszlo, check out Facebook and Twitter