POEM - GETTING OLDER

Poems

 

War And Peace

Dr. Aziz Mountassir (Morocco)

 

 

War 

I rise from the ashes, fierce and bold,

A storm of fire, a wrath untold.

I call the brave, I summon the strong,

In my shadow, kingdoms belong.

 

Men carve their names in my bloody sand,

With swords and guns in trembling hands.

I bring them honor, I bring them fame,

But leave their souls lost in flame.

 

They march for glory, they march for pride,

Yet in my wake, millions have died.

They dream of banners raised so high,

But only hear the widows cry.

 

I break the earth, I stain the seas,

I shatter hopes with brutal ease.

I teach the weak to stand and fight,

To claim their place, to seize their right.

 

I am the storm, the endless tide,

Where heroes fall, where kings collide.

I have no mercy, no regret,

I only give what fate has set.

 

Peace 

Oh, brother of iron, cold and grim,

Why do you dance on the world’s dim brim?

Your touch is death, your breath is pain,

Yet men embrace you again and again.

 

I whisper softly, I heal the land,

With gentle words, with outstretched hand.

I mend the wounds, I end the cries,

Yet still, they choose your crimson skies.

 

You paint the fields with blood and tears,

I plant them green for future years.

You forge their chains, you forge their fears,

I bring them hope, I wipe their fears.

 

I see the mothers who wait and weep,

For sons you stole, for graves so deep.

I hear the children call at night,

For fathers lost in senseless fight.

 

Yet even when your storms have passed,

Your echoes in their souls will last.

And still, I wait, and still, I try,

To teach the world to touch the sky.

 

War 

You speak of love, of light and grace,

Yet in your arms, men grow weak in place.

They dream too sweet, they sleep too long,

And I return to make them strong.

 

For strength is forged through pain and strife,

Not sheltered in your quiet life.

Without my fire, without my fight,

Would they still cherish morning light?

 

Without the swords, without the scars,

Would they reach for the distant stars?

Would they know triumph, would they stand tall,

If they had never learned to fall?

 

Men do not follow peace for long,

They crave the thrill, they crave the song.

They carve their myths in wounds and flame,

And whisper mine, a sacred name.

 

Peace 

But strength is not in swords and fire,

Not in the graves of lost desire.

It lies in hearts that choose to stay,

And build a world that will not fray.

 

Strength is not in blood and pain,

Not in the fields of war’s domain.

It breathes in love, in hands held tight,

In stars that shine through darkest night.

 

You claim to give them purpose bright,

Yet leave them blind, devoid of sight.

You tear them down, you make them bleed,

Yet peace is all they truly need.

 

One day, War, they will learn,

Your fires fade, but I return.

And when at last they cast you out,

Their hearts will know what love’s about.

 

I will outlast you, though you rise,

For hope will shine in human eyes.

And when they choose my gentle hand,

At last, the world will understand.

 

War falls silent, watching the dawn.

Peace smiles, knowing the battle is won.

 

 

 

 

A Cry to Protect Every Daughter

Dr. Aziz Mountassir (Morocco)

 

O world, awaken!

This voice is not a whisper,

but a storm against the silence.

It rises for every girl—

sister, mother, wife, and daughter—

for every fragile blossom

trampled by cruel hands.

 

She is not prey,

nor shadow to be hunted.

She is not a toy

for the fires of desire.

Her body is not a battlefield,

nor her innocence a cage to be broken.

She is the pulse of tomorrow,

the cradle of nations,

the song of life itself.

 

Yet how many girls

walk the streets in fear,

their laughter chained,

their steps guarded like secrets?

How many carry scars unseen—

wounds carved by hands

that should have protected?

How many dreams are shattered

by the weight of shame

that was never theirs to bear?

 

O men,

you who call yourselves fathers,

you who call yourselves brothers,

what honor remains

if you do not shield her?

What pride can stand

on the ruins of her tears?

 

A girl is not silence—

she is the voice of dawn.

She is not weakness—

she is the root of strength.

To wound her

is to wound the earth.

To violate her

is to defy the heavens.

 

Protect her,

and you guard your own mother’s memory.

Defend her,

and you defend your own daughter’s smile.

Cherish her,

and you cherish the bond of humanity itself.

 

Let every street be safe,

let every school be light,

let every home be shield.

No hand shall strike her,

no tongue shall shame her,

no night shall steal her dream.

 

For she is sister,

and she is daughter.

She is wife,

and she is mother.

The world is emptiness without her,

and eternity is barren

where her dignity is denied.

 

So rise, O nations,

write laws in the ink of justice,

build walls of mercy,

teach sons to honor

and daughters to soar.

 

Until no girl trembles in fear,

until no woman cries in silence,

until her body is her own,

and her spirit walks unbroken—

this cry shall echo,

a vow carved in fire,

a hymn of protection,

a covenant with God.

 

 

 

Dr. Amb. Aziz Mountassir's  Biography:

 

Dr. Amb. Aziz Mountassir, born on March 30, 1961, in Casablanca, Morocco, is a distinguished international poet, journalist, and an unwavering advocate for peace and humanity. His lifelong dedication to cultural diplomacy, literature, and humanitarian efforts has established him as a global voice for harmony and goodwill. Through his poetic works, international collaborations, and leadership roles, he continues to inspire change and promote peace worldwide.

 

Professional Roles & Leadership:

 

Dr. Mountassir holds multiple prestigious positions across various international organizations, demonstrating his commitment to fostering creativity, artistic expression, and global peace:

 

Ambassador of Peace and Humanity:

 

President of the International Forum of Creativity and Humanity – Morocco

 

President of OACG (Organization of Art, Creativity, and Goodwill) – Morocco

 

President of Ciesart (Morocco, Peru, Spain, Switzerland)

 

Ambassador of the International Peace Corps – Morocco

 

President of UTEF Türk – Morocco

 

Ambassador of INISA

 

Ambassador of Virtual Libro – Mexico

 

Ambassador of Inner Child Press (USA) in North Africa

 

Director of America in Magazine – Morocco

 

Ambassador of Peace WIP (Nigeria) – Morocco

 

Director of Network Arabic – Morocco

 

Member of UNGM

 

Journalist at Akhbar7 (Certified Moroccan Newspaper)

 

President of the Association of Free Moroccans Defending Territorial Unity

 

Ambassador of Condor Mendoza – Morocco

 

Ambassador of SAPS Poland – Morocco

 

Ambassador of CUAP (Switzerland-France) – Morocco

 

Ambassador of Acilbras (Brazil) – Morocco

 

Director of IFLAC World in Africa and Morocco

 

Member of NASA

 

Regional Delegate of the Honorable Alawites Council – Morocco

 

Literary Achievements & Global Recognition

 

Dr. Mountassir’s literary contributions have had a profound impact worldwide:

 

Author of 10 books

 

His poetry has been translated into more than 16 languages

 

Contributor to over 16 international poetry anthologies

 

His poems have been performed by international artists after translation

 

Active participant in peace and cultural seminars across the globe, including Mexico, Argentina, Spain, Egypt, the USA, Canada, Morocco, India, Jordan, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Venezuela, and Tunisia

 

Advocacy for Peace, Humanity, and Coexistence:

 

As a passionate writer and advocate for global harmony, Dr. Mountassir has authored numerous articles on peace, coexistence, and humanity, emphasizing the importance of dialogue and understanding between cultures and civilizations. His articles reflect a deep philosophical and poetic approach, tackling pressing global issues related to war, conflict resolution, and the role of art and literature in building bridges among nations.

 

Selected Articles on Peace & Humanity:

 

The Language of Peace: A Universal Dialogue – Discussing how literature and poetry can transcend borders, fostering understanding and reconciliation in a divided world.

 

The Power of Words in Healing Nations – Exploring how art and poetry can serve as a tool for social change, offering hope in times of conflict and crisis.

 

Cultural Diplomacy: A Path to Global Harmony – Examining the role of cultural exchange in building strong, peaceful international relations.

 

Humanity Beyond Borders – A reflective piece on the need to prioritize human values over political, ethnic, and religious differences.

 

Poetry as a Weapon of Peace – Highlighting historical instances where poets and writers have played a crucial role in advocating for justice and peace.

 

The Role of Artists in Conflict Resolution – Arguing that creative expression can bridge divides and offer alternative solutions to political struggles.

 

From War to Words: The Journey of Peace through Literature – Analyzing how literature has been a powerful medium for peace movements throughout history.

 

Children of War: A Call for Global Responsibility – Shedding light on the plight of children in war-torn areas and urging international efforts to protect them.

 

A World Without Borders: Utopian or Achievable? – Debating the feasibility of a future where humanity is united beyond national identities.

 

The Ethics of Humanitarian Journalism – Discussing the responsibility of journalists in shaping narratives that promote peace rather than division.

 

 

A Voice for Change:

Dr. Amb. Aziz Mountassir’s work extends beyond poetry and literature. His active participation in peacebuilding initiatives and his extensive contributions to global discussions on coexistence and mutual respect make him a beacon of hope in an increasingly polarized world. His writings continue to inspire individuals and leaders alike, advocating for a world built on compassion, tolerance, and artistic expression.

 

*Collected from the poet by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০২:১২ পিএম, ৮ সেপ্টেম্বর ২০২৫ সোমবার

Poem - Whispers from the Wood

 

Whispers from the Wood

Shah Jehan Ashrafi

 

The wood breathes

and gives birth

to its secret wings.

The wind recites

a forgotten poem.

Trees become spires

and whisper mantras

to heal the world.

They whirl and wriggle—

in vain.

Owls wear crowns

and watch ferns

and misty moss.

They know this time,

and want to hear

a lullaby to sleep tight.

The moon becomes

drunk and points

toward the poison ivy.

They talk about

Mother Earth,

who coughs

and weeps, her hands

stained with blood.

Together they talk about Time—

a prisoner

to war and crime.

They see morality

dissolving like

melting rain.

The world is thirsty—

a cracked, barren land.

The forest cries,

and shakes like a trembling leaf.

The moon watches,

holding a helpless wand.

It pines to heal and change

the fissure in the human world.

 

©® Shah Jehan Ashrafi

 

 

SHAH JEHAN ASHRAFI – PROFILE

 

Shah Jehan Begum Ashrafi was born in U.P., India, and grew up in Mauritius. She studied English and French literature at the University of Mauritius. After completing her postgraduate degree in education at the Mauritius Institute of Education, she taught English, French, and literature in various secondary schools. She wrote several plays for the National Drama Festival in Mauritius. Her first published work is a study guide to Arthur Miller’s play ‘All My Sons’. Writing poetry is her passion, and she is also working on a novel and some short stories. She was on the editing panel of Rajeshwari Chauhan’s novel ‘Daniel’s Diary’. Now the author lives in Canada and wishes to take up other jobs and widen her experience and knowledge. Shah Jehan Ashrafi completed her Master’s degree in English Literature and Creative Writing from the University of Montreal. Her poetry books ‘Bloom and Gloom’ and ‘Whispers’ are live on Amazon worldwide.

 

*Collected from the poetess by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০২:০৭ পিএম, ৮ সেপ্টেম্বর ২০২৫ সোমবার

Poems

Are You Trying to Die Again? 

Abdel Latif Moubarak (Egyptian poet)

 

Are you trying to die again?

Even though you

Died in a thousand poems.

And in every poem...

Your soul bleeds out of you.

Are you trying to die again,

And write a new poem?

Its letters... are my tears

And my sadness at your distance.

You gather in it the joy/laughter you planted

In the hearts of your lovers,

And you gather even the word/smile/breeze

The drawing in which you determined

How... we'll condemn you.

Were you planning a new surprise for us

The day your soul was full...

Of all the falsehood surrounding you

In clumsy steps?

Was the silent, virgin pain

Inside the gardens of your love,

On the land inhabited by the blood of your loved ones,

The last... sigh?

...

Are you trying to die again?

Even though you

Died in a thousand poems.

 

 

 

Tears for Bahiyah 

 

 Poem by: Abdel Latif Moubarak... Egyptian poet 

 

 The last tear for Bahiyah

 witnesses the verses of your image,

 the song of your voice,

 the scent of your striking perfume,

 the color of your red dress,

 your braids,

 the balm of your cheeks,

 your eyes, the laughter of marble,

 the pearls of your shining chest,

 the lofty building,

 the palm fronds on the bank,

 on the promised river,

 tales of love and the story.

 I am yours,

 like a knight who carries you,

 And flies to you above the winds.

 With his burning passion,

 a child crucified on his shoulders,

 the mill of your rising life.

 The witnesses of your exhausted era,

 your songs.

 What can I give you,

 other than that I promise you,

 with the passing star,

 ships of love in the water,

 the journey of Isis on your dust?

 Who struck you down with the murder of Yassin?

And the last tear for Bahiyah.

 

-

* Bahiyah is a symbol of Egypt in Egyptian heritage.

 

 

 

 

 

The Metamorphosis of Dreams

I gather the faces of people,

in the treasure of folly,

engraving upon my poor dress

a song, a silent prayer.

I add colors to creation,

to weave a metamorphosis,

one after another,

echoing the depths of happiness.

I am your dream,

O people of reason,

a condition veiled in wonder,

eyes gazing towards tomorrow.

The streets are empty,

hearts outstretched,

trodden by the weight

of silent doubt.

I adapt to grandeur,

inhabiting an incapacity,

visible to all,

my nakedness, my fragility.

My feet are nailed

to the pavement's face,

showcases of sorrow,

where hope feels faint.

Sometimes it sighs,

and sometimes it softens,

your dream, O people of words,

is sweeter, but often forgotten.

For I am the one who wanders,

or do people wander with me?

A dervish in a circle,

lost in a memory.

I emerge, my soul pours forth,

between its lines, the strings

of longing for the sanctuary's robe,

and the blessings that true love brings.

They slept upon the shoulders of time,

testimony of interwoven moments,

signs of exchange,

a miracle yet to be found.

***

 

 

A Martyr

 

Sign me up, right here,

To a womb that defies history's commute.

Inscribe my name.

Never did I nurse from the breasts of women in a slave market.

I could not trust mystics,

Nor did their bells ring recognition in my heart.

A million fears

My fears, multiplied a millionfold,

When I find death staring into my life,

When I see coffins stacked,

Black as the tears of rain.

May God grant you a long life,

To console homes filled with sorrow—

The bodies of the martyrs,

Whose lives gifted you freedom.

Beside the widows and orphans,

Gallows craft your dreams,

Selling your heart on the very first road.

Be a martyr.

***

 

A Frame to Image Painful

 

Sorrows planted deep inside hearts,

Awakening seeds of fear,

With horror facts concealed and capped.

Dressed in the wear of silence,

The sorrows of the day were sown—

A sign upon a grave, a dub

To the slow death of man, unknown.

Silence is no picture of them,

Without a paint, it's stark and grim.

Accepted: you die anonymous,

Though in your truth, you live a dream.

Though your heart in desert carries home,

Though your age was right for your own land,

Accepted: you die anonymous,

Like Zia's glory, a vanishing strand.

When such a spirit's light extinguishes,

And disappears, a beautiful dream ends,

Accepted: you die anonymous.

Too, houses died, their doors against walls bend.

Her streets, they mourned; the night came, withered,

Leaving a body, chronically loved,

A shiny star, whose songs no longer tethered

To the moon, now silently removed.

Rumored, the last beats from your heart,

You felt and then announced absence.

Faces passed like dreams, printed apart

On the plate-blooded board of lost essence.

Regrets the eye which saw of leaving

At mystery. It was not inspiring—

A frame to image aching, ever grieving. 

 

***

 

 

Probability

 

 

The wheat stalks breathe you in,

Braid your letters for the evenings.

And stir your songs the day they met

Upon his face, the silence... the flock of stillness.

Depart to where we began our journey,

Indeed, the streams hold but fragments.

To a time squandered,

Forgive my death when I choose you,

To the mercy of the devout, in protest,

To the dwelling of the wound,

The distance of desolation.

And your endurance was to borrow

From the star, the day of collapse's rituals.

Within you, the debasement of poems eludes,

Towards the sunrise.

And you quiet above some plains

The languages of apprehension,

In your sailing times.

You soothe the blaze of solitude... cities,

And pour into the eye the tears of reunion,

Branches from the beginning we were,

For the land of severance.

We carry to it the beseeching letters,

To write in love,

The beloved's spinning song.

And you still swear by the earthquake,

So as to prepare a new homeland,

Which the questions lost in their lament,

And the impossible bolted its gates

With bursts of time that began to depart.

You never left the harvests of remembrance,

That we were quenching.

With your silence, visions will not overflow

The boundaries of emptiness.

And we...

Are in vain. 

 

*** 

 

The Child Residing Deep Inside Me 

 

The child residing deep inside me,

When fear ignites, blazes with delight,

Shattering every frame,

Out into the street, he openly proclaims

His right to taste a morsel of truth.

With utter innocence, he'd plead with the sun's rays,

As they arrived to confiscate tomorrow's darkness.

He never knew that the morrow,

Lying slain on the heart's threshold,

Was already sacrificed.

The child residing deep inside me,

Quietly gathers fragments from the shadow

Of the girl fallen from the window of desire.

He passes from beneath the navel,

To the furthest lip at the edge of the house,

Retreating to the corner, at the furthest bank,

And in the dark rooms, he rattles

Matchboxes.

The child residing deep inside me,

Has but one hand,

With it, he gathers the world before him,

Drawing it in clusters.

And within his notebook of dreams,

He scribbles, then redraws.

The child resi

 

 

 

©®Abdel Latif Moubarak (Egyptian poet)

 

* These poems have been collected from the poet by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০১:৫২ পিএম, ৮ সেপ্টেম্বর ২০২৫ সোমবার

Poem - Speak

Speak 

Mohammed Rahul (Algeria)

 

Speaking, saying, repeating and remembering.

Do not think again.

Consider my words, think and remember.

 

Return to the path of my Lord and think.

Not deviation, but denial.

Do not condemn, criticize and deny any action.

 

Get up early at dawn and pray.

 

Close the door.

At night, pray, ask for forgiveness, read and remember.

 

So that you may see the deceit of the souls of the servants.

How much they deny.

They forget the goodness of each other and do not think.

 

Appearances deceive at dawn.

No one can blame.

Whoever sees a sin, change it and deny it.

 

The owner of the mosque spends the night drunk.

 

Mixing with men.

 

The atmosphere is murky with prostitutes and jinns.

 

The jinns have corrupted and continue to deny it.

 

And they deny it every day.

 

They play with them like a joker.

 

In every country, dust settles and appears.

 

They spend the night dancing. Their rightful time is to stay up late.

 

Speak, speak and bring news.

 

And sail the sea.

And, close your eyes and listen to the word of the one who is.

 

Speak, speak.

 

 

*Collected from the poet by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০৯:২০ এএম, ১৬ আগস্ট ২০২৫ শনিবার

POEM - EPIC OF A WOMAN

 

 

EPIC OF A WOMAN

ALONDRA GUTIÉRREZ VARGAS

Costa Rica

 

Epic epic of dreams, weeping earth, when it should be dancing to long and flowery verses.

Silences that must not silence the songs of boys and girls.

Hexameter, which must crown all women.

Flag of social justice and equity.

Social prose awakening consciences.

No more narratives of extensive transcendental actions, where life doesn't return home.

Where memory isn't lost to immortalize each heroine in press releases.

Women who are life and pay with death, being innocents who wear themselves out in battles, virtues and esteem of sequins.

Angelic Seductions

where the love that cannot be bought is idealized, because the madness of the aggressor who

overthrows identity with a femicide perfumed with a smile and lipstick of hypocrisy has washed his hands and soiled his conscience.

Support for a woman who emancipates herself, to raise her voice against the weakness of all systems.

Mutilated bones, a skin suit descending to earth.

Meanwhile, there are houses with tears and a sky that collapses, demanding judgment...

We no longer want dead women.

We don't want empty homelands, wearing black dresses and white dresses with lace trim and songs of indifference!

 

©©Alondra Gutiérrez Vargas

 

 

*Collected from the poetess by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০৯:০৪ এএম, ১৬ আগস্ট ২০২৫ শনিবার

POEM - ETERNAL JOURNEY

 

 

 

ETERNAL JOURNEY 

Parvinder Nagi

 

I’ve woven the fabric of my life with joys and sorrows 

The moments enjoyed making memories 

Not looking for the lust of riches 

But spending it worth for good deeds 

 

Aging gracefully through each passing day 

Reaching towards the final goals 

Rejuvenating through the eternal journey so beautiful 

Living in the tassels of time 

 

Dust we are and to dust we shall return 

Some dreams completed and some yet to be 

Life’s unending yearnings still await 

Oscillated between past and future 

 

The truth remains that life and death walk hand in hand 

Life will deceive one day for sure death will never 

To live forever is not our decision 

Final goodbyes are God’s will.

 

©® Parvinder Nagi

 

 

 

About the Poetess:

Parvinder is born and brought up in the coastal city of Mombasa, Kenya, East Africa. 

         Having dedicated her career to shaping the minds of future generations as a principal from the distinguished senior secondary schools in India and also served as charity in the British schools in UK.

 

        Parvinder is a national award winner from NCERT, New Delhi, for making teaching and learning process more easier through the classroom aids for both the teachers and pupils. 

 

      One of the defining moments of her poetic journey occurred during a visit to Dove Cottage and the museum dedicated to the venerable poet, William Wordsworth, nestled in the enchanting landscape of Grasmere, Lake District, UK. 

In the hallowed halls of this literary sanctuary, standing amidst the profound legacy of Wordsworth, Parvinder found herself immersed in the timeless essence of poetry, a force capable of transcending the boundaries of time and place.

        

         Her passion for poetry found recognition when she was bestowed with the prestigious accolades in a national poetry contest in the year 2022 orchestrated among a gathering of over 2000 poets from across India on the national level.

 

        Parvinder is a recipient of many literary awards in poetry….

- An Ambassador for peace in the world poetic fraternity

- The Global Peace Ambassador Awards

- Literary Ambassador Awards

- Honorary Doctorate Award

- An Ambassador for Indian culture for Insight magazine USA

- Membership card from ICAL and felicitations of appreciation and excellence, joining the bridges across the world through her literary work!

 

Parvinder is an author of a poetry book, “UNFATHOMED SECRETS”, a heartfelt collection of 100 poems from the abyss of her heart.

 

       Parvinder’s poems are translated in various languages across the globe. She is honoured to be one of the 58 selected poets, whose poems are translated in Turkish and published in Turkey, the anthology book, “ Poets From The World” 

 

Her poems are also published among 231 great noble world poets, in the book “ WORLD CONTEMPORARY POETS VOLUME 2 “

 

A book, “ The Women - Global Poetic Gems" is the Collection of Lyrical Poems By 35 International Poets, Parvinder is proud to be featured among one of these world renowned poets.

 

Her poems are reviewed by eminent writers, authors and also reviewers from Harvard University USA 

From time to time her poems are featured in the various journals, newspapers and magazines across the globe.

 

      She has collaborated her duet poems with poets across the globe.

 

        She has also participated in the live poetry recitation among the global poets on google meet online and won the accolades!

 

         Parvinder has translated a Historical chronological book, from Kosovo, written by Dibran Fylli “Prekazi Brezni Trimash-HE IS ALIVE“ into her mother language Punjabi.

          Parvinder’s poems are music to the heart that express different aspects of life, conjuring up emotions from happiness to sadness using different styles and themes giving pleasure to the readers.

 

Parvinder Nagi

( Principal )

 

 

*Collected from the poetess by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০৮:৫৭ এএম, ১৬ আগস্ট ২০২৫ শনিবার

অণুগল্প - দুঃস্বপ্ন

দুঃস্বপ্ন 

মোঃ ইজাজ আহামেদ 

 

ঘড়িতে টুং টুং করে বাজছে সকাল দশটার ঘণ্টা। স্কুলে যাওয়ার জন্য হুমায়ূন আয়নার সামনে দাঁড়িয়ে চিরুনি দিয়ে মাথা পরিপাটি করতে করতে জানালার বাইরে একবার চোখের পলক ফেলে; দেখে, আকাশ ঢেকেছে কালো চাদরে। তৎক্ষণাৎ সে তাড়াহুড়ো করে বাইক বের করে। 

 

        হুমায়ূনের স্কুল যাওয়ার পথ বাইকে মিনিট কুড়ির মতো। সাইকেলে যেতে তার ঘন্টাখানেক লাগত। তিন মাস আগে কিস্তিতে কিনেছে যাতে সময় বাঁচে, ক্লান্তি লাঘব হয় আর অতিরিক্ত টিউশনি ধরে আয় বাড়ানো যায়। যেমন ভাবনা, তেমনি কাজ। ভাবনা অনুযায়ী কাজকর্ম চলছে। মেঘময় আকাশ দেখতে দেখতে এগিয়ে যাচ্ছে আর মনে মনে ভাবছে স্কুল যেতে দেরি না হয়ে যায়। বেসরকারি স্কুল বলে কথা, সময়ে না ঢুকলেই মাইনে কাটা যায়। কোথা থেকে যেন দমকা বাতাসও এল। বাতাসের হাত ধরে কালো পোশাক পরা মেঘবালিকারা যেন কোনো অচিন দেশে যেতে লাগল। আকাশের মুখ থেকে যেন মন-খারাপ বিদায় নিল। 

 

      কয়েকজন পুলিশ বাইক আরোহী হুমায়ূনকে থামাল। তাদের মধ্যে একজন বলল, "গাড়ির কাগজ ও ড্রাইভিং লাইসেন্স দেখান।" আরেকজন গাড়ির নম্বর প্লেটের ফটো তুলল মোবাইলে। হুমায়ূন বলল, স্যার তাড়াহুড়ো করে কাগজের ব্যাগটি বাড়িতে রেখে চলে এসেছি। স্যার প্লিজ ছেড়ে দিন, আমার যেতে দেরি হয়ে যাবে। পুলিশ বলল, ঠিক আছে ছেড়ে দিচ্ছি মোবাইলে মেসেজ যাবে, ফাইন ভরে দিয়েন। বেচারার এমনিতেই দেরি হয়ে গেছে, এইদিকে ফাইন আর ঐদিকে মাইনে কাটার ভয় তাকে গ্রাস করলো। তাই কথা না বাড়িয়ে তাড়াহুড়ো যেতে লাগল। 

 

 

                    নদী ভাঙ্গনের দুঃ‌স্বপ্ন উঁকি দিচ্ছে হুমায়ূনের মনে। অব্যাহত নদীর ভাঙন একে একে গ্রাস করছে ভিটেমাটি। তার বাড়ি সহ কয়েকটি বাড়ি কোনমতে মাটির শিকড় আঁকড়ে ধরে রয়েছে। দূর থেকে মনে হয় যেন কয়েকটি নৌকো নোঙর করে আছে নদীর তীরে। শীঘ্রই অন্য কোথাও জায়গা কিনে থাকার মত ঠাঁই করতে হবে তাকে। সংসার চালানোর সঙ্গে সঙ্গে অসুস্থ বাবা-মায়ের জন্য ওষুধের টাকাও যোগাড় করতে হয় তাকে। সরকারি চাকরির আশায় এখনও বিয়ে করাও হয়ে উঠেনি। অবশ্য খুব একটা বেশি বয়সও হয়নি, বয়স ২৬-২৭ হবে। বৃষ্টি হলো না কিন্তু এখনো আকাশের মন খারাপ হুমায়ূনের মতো। কখন যে অশ্রু টপটপ করে ঝরে পড়বে কে জানে? 

 

                নদী ভাঙ্গনের আগে কত সুন্দর ছিল সোনালী দিনগুলো! নদীর কলকল ধ্বনি সে কান পেতে শুনতো। বাতাস জলে নৃত্য করত। ঢেউয়ের গান শুনতে শুনতে কখন যে ঘুমিয়ে পড়ত সে তা টেরই পেত না। জানালায় সূর্যের মিষ্টি রশ্মির উঁকি মারাতে তার ঘুম ভাঙত। রূপালি ভোর, জলে সূর্য-উদয়, সূর্যাস্ত, গোধূলি, জোছনা ভরা নিশি তার মনে কত আনন্দের জোয়ার নিয়ে আসত! সুর্য, চাঁদ, তারা, শরতের নীল আকাশ ও ফর্সা মেঘবালিকারা পানির দর্পণে মুখ দেখত। সে নদীর পাড়ে বসে গোধূলির আলো মাথায় নিয়ে জেলেদের মাছ ধরা দেখত। গোধূলির আলোয় প্লাবিত হতো চারিদিক। মৃদুমন্দ বাতাস আদর করে যেত দেহে। বর্ষা এলে খাবার থালায় থাকত রূপালি ইলিশ। এইসব ভাবতে ভাবতে স্কুলের সামনে চলে এসেছে সে। পকেট থেকে মোবাইল বের করে দেখে ১০ মিনিট দেরি হয়ে গেছে।

০৫:০১ পিএম, ১৫ আগস্ট ২০২৫ শুক্রবার

কবিতা - ভারত

ভারত 

মোঃ ইজাজ আহামেদ

 

ভারত! তোমায় আমি সালাম জ্ঞাপন করি,

তুমি আমার জন্মভূমি।

তোমার তিনদিকে সমুদ্র আর একদিকে হিমালয় পর্বত;

তারই মাঝে তোমার উপস্থিতি।

তুমি পৃথিবীর প্রাচীনতম সভ্যতার এক অন্যতম ভূমি।

যুগ যুগ ধরে তোমার কাছে এসেছে ভিন্ন ধর্মের, ভিন্ন জাতির ভিন্ন মানুষজন;

সকলেই তোমাকে ভালোবেসে করেছে আপন।

হুন, কুষান, মোঙ্গল, পাঠান,

জৈন, বৌদ্ধ, হিন্দু, মুসলিম, খ্রিস্টান-

সকলেই তোমাকে করেছে সমৃদ্ধি সন্মান।

তোমার সন্তানেরা বিশ্বে করেছে বিচরণ,

বিশ্ব দরবারে তোমাকে এনে দিয়েছে খ্যাতি।

তোমার বৈচিত্রেভরা উদ্ভিদরাশি, বৈচিত্রেভরা প্রাণী,

বৈচিত্র‍্যময় মানুষ, বৈচিত্র্যময় মাটি,

বৈচিত্র্যময় মানুষ, বৈচিত্র্যময় সংস্কৃতি,

বৈচিত্র্যের মাঝে সমন্বয়ই তোমার মূলনীতি;

তাইতো তুমি পৃথিবীর সারাংশ ও বৈচিত্র্যের পটভূমি।

তাইতো তোমায় এতো ভালোবাসি।

০৪:৫৫ পিএম, ১৫ আগস্ট ২০২৫ শুক্রবার

Poems

 

 

Karma: The Tapestry of Life 

Dr. Ashok Kumar

 

In the loom of life, where threads of fate entwine,

A tapestry of karma, intricately divine,

Every action, a strand, every thought, a hue,

Weaving a pattern, both old and new.

 

The warp of cause, the weft of effect,

A balance of give and take, we inspect,

Every deed, a ripple, that spreads far and wide,

In the fabric of existence, where karma resides.

 

The threads of intention, the colors of our mind,

The fabric of our character, forever aligned,

With every choice, a stitch, with every step, a pace,

We weave our destiny, in this cosmic space.

 

The law of karma, a universal guide,

Teaches us to sow, what we wish to reap inside,

A lesson of accountability, for every deed,

A reminder of the power, that our actions seed.

 

In the tapestry of life, where karma's threads are spun,

We are the weavers, our choices, forever begun,

Let us weave with love, with compassion and with care,

And create a fabric, that's beautiful, beyond compare.

 

©®Dr. Ashok Kumar

 

 

Hope is a Bird

 

From the garden of Alpine, where mystic hearts reside,

A vision of hope takes flight, and never will subside.

With wings of promise, she soars into the sky,

A beacon of light, that catches the eye.

 

Divine eyes watch over, with integrity in sight,

Unity and true beauty, shine like a guiding light.

In this realm of wonder, hope forever will reign,

A symbol of peace, that echoes through the plain.

 

With every breath, she sings a sweet melody,

A symphony of love, that sets the heart free.

In the garden of Alpine, where hope forever resides,

A mystic heart beats strong, with love as its guide.

 

 

©®Dr. Ashok Kumar

 

 

 

Woman: A Symbol of Strength, Love, and Resilience

Dr. Ashok Kumar

 

 

On this day, we celebrate you,

A woman, a symbol of strength, love, and resilience true,

A being of beauty, of compassion, of might,

A shining star, that lights up the night.

 

Your heart beats with a love so pure,

A love that nurtures, that cares, that endures,

Through trials and tribulations, you stand tall,

A rock of strength, that never will fall.

 

Your spirit is a flame, that burns bright and bold,

A flame that flickers, but never grows cold,

It is a fire that burns, with a passion so true,

A passion that guides, and inspires, and sees us through.

 

You are a goddess, a divine being of light,

A being of wisdom, of intuition, of insight,

You are a creator, a nurturer, a guide,

A woman, a symbol of strength, love, and resilience inside.

 

So let us celebrate, this day, and every day,

The strength, the love, the resilience, that you bring our way,

Let us honor, your spirit, your heart, your soul,

A woman, a symbol of strength, love, and resilience, that makes us whole.

 

©®Dr. Ashok Kumar

 

*May this poem be a source of inspiration and motivation for women all around the world. May it remind them of their strength, their love, and their resilience, and may it empower them to be the best version of themselves.*

 

 

 

 

So Brutal They Are

Dr. Ashok Kumar

 

 

In battle-scarred lands, where hope doth fade,

Innocence is lost, in blood-soaked shades.

Children's laughter silenced, eyes closed tight,

Mothers' tears fall, as their young ones take flight.

 

Girls, with dreams unfulfilled, cut down in prime,

Their smiles, now memories, forever locked in time.

Old men, with wisdom earned, and hearts so kind,

Fall prey to violence, leaving loved ones behind.

 

The cries of war, a deafening sound,

Echoes of humanity, lost, on barren ground.

The perpetrators, with hearts of stone,

Leave devastation, and a trail of blood, alone.

 

Their brutal acts, a scar on humanity's face,

A shame that echoes, through time and space.

Their cruelty, a stain, that cannot be erased,

A reminder of the darkness, that human hearts can embrace.

 

Yet, amidst the chaos, a glimmer of hope doth shine,

A light that guides us, towards a more peaceful shrine.

A call to action, to stand against the tide,

To protect the innocent, and let humanity abide.

 

Let us unite, to end this senseless strife,

To bring peace to the war-torn, and end this brutal life.

Let love and compassion, guide us on our way,

To create a world, where innocence can bloom and stay.

 

©®Dr. Ashok Kumar

 

 

The Holy Month of Ramadan

 Dr. Ashok Kumar

 

From the garden of Alpine, where love and peace entwine,

A message of hope and joy, during Ramadan's sacred shrine,

A month of fasting, prayer, and charity, a time to renew,

A journey of self-discovery, with love, care, and peace in view.

 

As the crescent moon appears, in the evening sky so bright,

A signal to begin, the holy month's sacred light,

The call to prayer, echoes through the night,

A reminder to awaken, to the divine light.

 

With every dawn, a new beginning unfolds,

A chance to purify, the heart, mind, and soul,

The fast, a means to detoxify, the body and the mind,

To cultivate empathy, compassion, and kindness, we design.

 

The nights, a time for reflection, contemplation, and prayer,

A moment to reconnect, with the divine, and show we care,

The Quran's guidance, a beacon of light, on the path we tread,

A reminder of our purpose, to spread love, peace, and kindness ahead.

 

Ramadan's spirit, a gift to humanity, a treasure to share,

A time to bridge the gaps, to show we truly care,

For the poor, the needy, the oppressed, and the weak,

A month to demonstrate, our love, compassion, and unique.

 

From the garden of Alpine, a message of love and peace,

A vision and mission, to make the world a better release,

During Ramadan's holy month, let us come together as one,

To spread love, care, peace, and prosperity, beneath the sun.

 

©®Dr. Ashok Kumar

 

 

 

 

Echoes of War

Dr. Ashok Kumar

 

In Ukraine's ravaged land, where death does reign

A nation weeps, its people slain

Innocent lives lost, futures unfulfilled

Historical monuments reduced to rubble, hills

 

Children's laughter silenced, soldiers fallen cold

A country drowning in debt, its future grown old

The world watches, helpless, as destruction unfolds

A tale of devastation, where peace is left to grow old

 

Why must we fight, and for what do we strive?

Is it power, greed, or a twisted sense of pride?

The USA, a nation built on freedom's creed

Yet, in this conflict, its role is one of deed

 

Disrespect and disdain, a rhetoric so bold

A leader's words, that spark a fire to unfold

But who is responsible for this destruction and pain?

Is it the leaders, or the followers, who remain?

 

The answer lies within, in the hearts of humanity

A choice to love, to forgive, and to be free

From the chains of hatred, and the bonds of fear

To rise above, and to hold each other dear

 

Let us learn from Ukraine's plight

And strive for peace, with all our might

For in the end, it's not the weapons that we hold

But the love and compassion, that make us bold.

 

 

©®Dr. Ashok Kumar

 

 

 

About the Poet:

Dr. Ashok Kumar born in India, is a visionary leader and renowned expert in his field. With a distinguished career spanning decades, he has made significant contributions to education, research, and community development. His tireless efforts have inspired countless individuals, fostering a culture of excellence and innovation. Dr. Kumar's legacy is a testament to his dedication, passion, and commitment to making a positive impact.As an International Critic, Mys

tical poet he has composed spiritual , motivational poems .His poems are published in various languages like Spanish, English, Hindi, Arabic language etc .

 

*Collected from the poet by Md Ejaj Ahamed *

০৭:৪৭ পিএম, ৯ আগস্ট ২০২৫ শনিবার

একগুচ্ছ কবিতা

আমরা জলের বরফ সন্তান
        হান্নান বিশ্বাস

আমরা এখন
বধির এক ধ্বংসের সাথে সহবাস করছি

ইতিহাস একটা বুনোহাঁস
আমরা তাকে শিকারীর মত ফাঁকা আওয়াজে
উড়িয়ে দিই

বুনো হাতির মতো
গর্জন করলে হয়তো বেঁচে যেতে পারতাম
নিকাশি ব্যবস্থা নেই আমাদের

আনমনা পশুরা
ফিঙেরা পিঠে বসে ছিঁড়ে খায় ঘাসফড়িং
একটা অর্ধমৃত চারণভূমি

শিকড় হীন বাতাস
গাছের আধমরা পাতা ঝরিয়ে খাচ্ছে
গুঁড়ি টা একটা ক্রিস্টালের মত

জল একটা প্রসূতি মা
শীততাপ নিয়ন্ত্রিত নদীর কাঠামো

আমরা জলের বরফ সন্তান




জোনাকিরা অনন্ত আঁধারে
        হান্নান বিশ্বাস

নিরক্ষর রাত
একটা চাঁদের জন্ম দিলে
একটা বিকলাঙ্গ আকাশ মাথার উপর ডানা ঝাপটায়

বাতাস এক অন্ধ ভিখারী
একই ঝুলিতে শ্বাস আর দীর্ঘশ্বাস

প্রতিধ্বনিত দু-পাড়েই

বধির জলস্রোত
দৃষ্টিতে বাঁশের সাঁকোয় সময় উত্তীর্ণ ক্যালেন্ডার

সাগর একমাত্র ঠিকানা

জীবনের পাতায়
শঙ্খচিলের নিষ্ঠুর কাব্যকথা
জীভের লালায় সিক্ত ইতিহাসের পাণ্ডুলিপি

পরিযায়ী সূর্য দিনের সীমারেখায় বন্দী
জোনাকিরা অনন্ত আঁধারে



চোয়ালের আঁচিলে ঠোকর দিলে
    হান্নান বিশ্বাস

কাকেরা
চোয়ালের আঁচিলে ঠোকর দিলে
শরীর জুড়ে একটা সুনামি আছড়ে পড়ে

মাছিরা
দেহ রস খেতে বসলে
রিখটার স্কেলে একটা মৃদু কম্পন অনুভূত হয়

বোলতায়
হুল ফুটিয়ে দিলে তো
শরীর এক আগুন যন্ত্রনায় জ্বলে ওঠে

চোষক নলে
মুখ লাগিয়ে মশা রক্ত চুষে নিলে
আমরা হাত বুলিয়ে থাকি

জোনাকিরা
আলোর মালা নিয়ে এলে
আমরা নিয়ন আলো ছড়িয়ে দিই



বাসি শব্দ নুন ছিটিয়ে খাই
       হান্নান বিশ্বাস

মাটিতে কম্পন হলে
কঙ্কাল থেকে পাঁজর ভাঙ্গার শব্দ অনুভূত হয়
হৃদয়ে গভীর রক্তোচ্ছ্বাস

পূর্ণিমার রাত একটা
মরা কোটাল উপহার দিলে
অমাবস্যা সাগরের বুকে ভরা কোটাল নিয়ে আসে

জল প্রবাহ
হঠাৎই বাঁক নিলে নদীর পাঁজর ভাঙে
ওপারে সাদা বালির চর

বাতাস মোচড় খেলে
একটা ঘূর্ণির অভিঘাতে শিকড়ে কম্পন
বসতির অনাকাঙ্ক্ষিত বন্ধ্যাত্ব

আমি টাটকা শব্দগুলো
ঝাঁট দিয়ে গুছিয়ে রাখি ইতিহাসের ডাস্টবিনে
বাসি শব্দ নুন ছিটিয়ে খাই




ট্রেডমিল আমাদের হাঁটা পথ
      হান্নান বিশ্বাস

নাক্ষত্রিক ছায়া পথ
আমরা মেঘের ভেলায় লক্ষ্যহীন যাত্রী

মুখ বন্ধ হাওয়ার বস্তা
মৃত্যুর পরেও শ্বাস নিতে পারছি তাই

ট্রেডমিল আমাদের হাঁটা পথ

হাতঘড়ি টা
টিক টিক আওয়াজে ঠেলছে সময়

মৌমাছিরা
জোনাকির মুখোশে পথ দেখায়

আমাদের সরণ শূন্য

মনের আঙ্গিনায়
বাড়ছে বাহারী ক্যাকটাসের চাষ

ধর্ম পুকুরে
পানকৌড়ির পূণ্যস্নান


*কবিতাগুলি কবির কাছ থেকে সংগ্রহ করা হয়েছে মোঃ ইজাজ আহামেদ- এর দ্বারা*

০৩:২০ পিএম, ৩ আগস্ট ২০২৫ রোববার

অনুগল্প - অশ্রু

 

 

অশ্রু 

মোঃ ইজাজ আহামেদ 

 

এসেছে আষাঢ় মাস। পুকুরে-নদীতে উঠেছে খুশির ঢেউ। আকাশের মাঠে আনন্দে খেলছে মেঘশিশুরা। বৃষ্টি নামছে। মাটির মাঠে খেলছে ছেলেরা। আনন্দে বৃষ্টির ফোঁটারা লাফাচ্ছে, লাফাচ্ছে ছেলেপুলেরা। গাছের পাতারা নাচছে। ছাদে সঙ্গীত জুড়েছে বৃষ্টিরা। 

 

              বৃষ্টিতে স্নানরত ও বৃষ্টির মিউজিকে বিমোহিত ছাদের নিচে জানালার ধারে দাঁড়িয়ে বাইরে দুঃখ ভরা নয়নে চেয়ে আছে ছয় বছরের ফাইয়াজ। সে একটি নামিদামি বেসরকারি স্কুলে ভর্তি হয়েছে, প্রথম শ্রেণিতে পড়ে। ভর্তি হওয়ার পর থেকে শুধু পড়ার চাপ। তার আর্থিক স্বচ্ছল বাবা-মা কয়েকটি গৃহ শিক্ষক নিযুক্ত করেছে যাতে সে গ্রামের ছেলেদের সঙ্গে মেশার অবসর না পায়। তারা মনে করে পাড়ার ছেলেদের সঙ্গে মিশলে ছেলে ভালোভাবে মানুষ হবে না, পড়াশোনায় অমনোযোগী হয়ে উঠবে। সকালে টিউশন, তারপর স্কুল, স্কুল থেকে ফিরে আবার টিউশন, শুধু হাত-মুখ-পা ধোয়া ও খাবার খাওয়ার জন্য ঘণ্টা খানেকের বিরতি তার জন্য বরাদ্দ। আজ মুষলধারে বৃষ্টি হওয়ায় শিক্ষক মহাশয় আসেননি। 

 

         তাই জানালার বাইরে ছেলেগুলোর দিকে তাকাবার সময় পেয়েছে ফাইয়াজ আর তার মনে তাদের সঙ্গে খেলার বাসনা তাড়না দিচ্ছে। সে জানে তার বাবা-মা মনের ইচ্ছা পূরণ করতে দেবে না তবুও সে তার মনের আকাঙ্ক্ষা দমিয়ে রাখতে পারল না। সে বলে উঠল, "মা দেখ, ছেলেগুলো বৃষ্টিতে ভিজে খেলছে আর কত আনন্দ করছে! আমিও তাদের সঙ্গে খেলতে চাই।" তার মা বলল, "না বাবা না, তোমার ঠান্ডা লেগে যাবে। ছেলেগুলো ভালো না, তারা পড়াশোনা করে না, সারাদিন টো টো ঘুরে আর খেলে, পড়তে বসার নামই নেয় না। তোমাকে ভালো করে পড়াশোনা করে মস্ত বড় মানুষ হতে হবে। আর তাদের সঙ্গে মেশার কথা মুখে উচ্চারণ করো না, তোমার আব্বু শুনলে তোমাকেও বকবে আর আমাকেও বকা দেবে। তুমি তো জানো সে কত রাগী!" ফাইয়াজ বলল, "ঠিক আছে মা, আমি আর বলব না।"  

 

                তার মা ঘর থেকে বেরিয়ে যায় আর সে বাইরে হাত বাড়িয়ে অপলক দৃষ্টিতে চেয়ে থাকে। তার হাতে টপ টপ করে পড়ে আকাশের অশ্রু, তার চোখ থেকেও গাল বেয়ে চুঁইয়ে পড়ে জলের ফোঁটা। সে মনে মনে ভাবে স্কুলে ভর্তি হওয়ার আগে তার দিনগুলো কত সুন্দর ছিল! সে সারাদিন আপন মনে খেলত, তার খেলার সাথি ছিল অনেক ধরনের খেলনারা। বড়দের ফোনে কথা বলতে দেখে সেও হাতে কোনো খেলনা বা কাঠের টুকরো বা কোনো কিছু মোবাইল ভেবে কানে ধরে খেলনাদের সাথে কথা বলত। এখন শুধু পড়া আর পড়া। তার যত রাগ স্কুলের উপর গিয়ে পড়ে। পিঠে ব্যাগভর্তি বই-খাতা বয়ে নিয়ে যেতেও তার মনোকষ্ট হয়, তার অবাক লাগে। তার শৈশবটাই কেড়ে নেওয়া হচ্ছে। প্রতিযোগিতার চাপে হাঁপিয়ে উঠছে শৈশব, শৈশবের আনন্দ ক্রমশ ম্লান হয়ে যাচ্ছে। কালো আকাশের পানে বিস্মিত মনে অশ্রুসিক্ত ঝাপসা নয়নে তাকাল ফায়াজ। 

 

©® মোঃ ইজাজ আহামেদ (©®Md Ejaj Ahamed)

০১:৪৬ পিএম, ৩ আগস্ট ২০২৫ রোববার

Poems

Trust 

Nilufar Tokhtaboyeva (Uzbekistan) 

 

I must justify my parents' trust

May their joy be like a poplar

The heart feels victories ahead

Father and mother are ahead

 

You will see that your daughter will surely succeed

Bad gossip goes beyond words

When enemies block the path, she gathers strength

Father and mother are ahead

 

If only our hearts were clean from dirt

Those flowers that could not see us withered

You gave us confidence, our hearts were filled

Father and mother are ahead

 

 

Poetry

Nilufar Tokhtaboyeva (Uzbekistan) 

 

A heart familiar with poetry

They make it look like a lily

And hearts without poetry

They are as cold as winter

 

These words are not in vain

They are taken from this life

There is nothing wrong with a book

They are given such a status

 

Oh, poetry has put me in a grassy meadow

With those I have written

If I could go far

 

People do not quite understand

What these verses are

Thinking about it, I now know

The unity of seven dimensions

 

I spread poems when I write

A poem that gives peace to the heart

I have fit the worlds into it

In my opinion, this is the greatest party

 

 

Nilufar Tokhtaboyeva

(Uzbekistan) was born on September 16, 2007. She is an 11th grade student at school No. 6 in Kosonsoy district, Namangan region. She is the youngest of 3 children in the family. In her free time, she actively participates in various clubs and courses.                                

 

 

 

*Collected from the poetess by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

 

 

 

 

০৫:২৪ পিএম, ২৮ জুলাই ২০২৫ সোমবার

Poems

 

 

Reside in My Heart

Nageh Ahmed (Egypt)

 

Reside in my heart, don't leave it

For the heart protects its lovers

Rise, heart, revolt

Live free, don't live in confusion

Empty its cities of me, I will empty it

Of all fear

Of what you suffer

Abandon the distances of meeting

Travel where its heights reside

Above the mountains or the clouds

You may be the feet of its footsteps

Before the blossoming flowers of its breasts

Untie it from its oppressors

Over every inch you set your feet on

Where your beloved, the angel, is among its inhabitants

Raise the cry of love

Hidden behind the hidden

Swim a sea in the clear sky

Embrace the encounter and the one thrown at it

Save it from it, build its lands

How many times have the masters stolen you from me! And they hid you even from his sight.

They filled the space with dust.

So he could not see you, or you could not see him.

The mines of a magician who is hostile to him.

Whoever comes first has the right to it.

A cursed race that rules and controls it.

Lost by deception, not to those who deserve it.

They do not deserve it.

Oh, I wonder!

The cure wept in fear.

When we withdrew from the battle of separation.

And everyone who strengthened it withdrew.

 

©®Nageh Ahmed, 

Egypt 

 

 

Oh Jailer

Nageh Ahmed (Egypt)

...

My eyes welled up

For a child who stumbled

And nibbled at the dust

Who interpreted his dreams

Dreaming of a nest in the Valley of the Kings

Who would be pleased

To rejoice at the chirping of birds

Or the singing of ants

He heard nothing but planes flying

Launching missiles

Followed by a howling cry

Calling on us weakly for his aid

Calling on us, his aid diminished

His pain even with his rising

To bring food for his family

In his darkness, oppressed

He suffered from oppression

Oh jailer, did you break his prison

With words that neither enriched nor satiated his hunger?

The hungry died

In a people who lived satiated

And the balance of life was disturbed

Some stood asleep

And others were blinded by the likeness of a butterfly and ostrich feathers

And the ghosts of haughtiness

Like a pumpkin, Dhul-Nun flatters

Climbs a gourd

Then like chaff, he staggers

Rescue no one

But rejoices

In the tragedy of death The reformer

Thank you, human conscience

fall..

In my blindness, the brilliance of silk, I have fun.

 

©® Nageh Ahmed,

Egypt

 

O Oppressor!

Nageh Ahmed (Egypt)

 

It is enough for you that your name is unjust.

O you who torment us with slander.

Suppose that by your actions a scholar has brought down upon us how many wraths.

A child eats sand.

Do you think yourself peaceful?

Or that you are the god of the world.

Or even a safe angel.

For every flaw in you, you commit a crime.

And people are eaten by the ashes.

O criminal by nature.

Return from our weak ones.

Ignorance inhabits the nations through you.

And misfortunes herald your end.

From the pain you cause us.

They gave you more than your reality.

They gave you a statue of bone.

And they dressed you in the decrees of wrath.

To be a misery for the wilderness, O idol.

We will not worship idols. We will not worship idols.

Even if they flow from the womb of generosity.

We will not surrender to your war.

You see the judgment upon souls.

You swore that you would not fulfill your oath.

You will not be just between people, O adversary.

You fought a fierce war.

A deserted devil, not a poor man.

In your land, he enjoys.

And death is a conquest at your hands.

The sword is the fate of a poet like a pen.

With the letter The speaker raises his voice.

Oh, truth, where are you? You are absent.

Justice is too heavy for the tongue to speak.

And the opinion is in a line in the sea.

He drowned, and we drowned with him. We stutter.

War has spread destruction.

And the universe screams: You are a criminal.

 

©®Nageh Ahmed,

Egypt

 

*Collected from the poet by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০৫:২২ পিএম, ২৮ জুলাই ২০২৫ সোমবার

কবিতা - ফরমান

ফরমান

আবদুস সালাম

 

শকুনের ডানায় ভর করে আসে নগরীর অন্ধকার

বাইবেলের পাতা থেকে ঝরে যায় দুর্বিষহ নিঃস্ব দিন

 

ওরা মারিয়ামকেও ছাড়েনি অপবাদের কালি মাখাতে

সেদিন সূচিতার আর্তনাদে কেঁপে উঠেছিল নগরীর ভিত্ 

কৌমার্য হারানোর মিথ্যে অপবাদে পৃথিবীর পৃষ্ঠায় নেমেছিল অন্ধকার

 

কুয়াশার জঙ্গলে জটলা বেঁধেছিল সন্ন‍্যাস রঙের রাস্তা

শকুনের বলিষ্ঠ চিৎকারে বাইবেলের পাতায় নেমেছিল অন্ধকার

বলিষ্ঠ ফরমান জারি হয়েছিল নগরীর পাড়ায়

 

 

*কবির কাছ থেকে কবিতাটি সংগ্রহ করা হয়েছে মোঃ ইজাজ আহামেদ - এর দ্বারা *

০৫:২০ পিএম, ২৮ জুলাই ২০২৫ সোমবার

অনুগল্প - জ্যোৎস্না মাখা এক রাস্তায়

জ্যোৎস্না মাখা এক রাস্তায়

মোঃ ইজাজ আহামেদ

 

জ্যোৎস্না স্নাত আমুহা ঘাট। জ্যোৎস্না মাখা খেয়ানৌকায় পারাপার হচ্ছে দু'পারের মানুষজন। ঘাটে কিছু দোকান। তাই হয়তো এই নিরিবিলি পরিবেশে একটু কোলাহল শোনা যায় আর শোনা যায় ঝিঁঝিঁ পোকার সুর। নদীর তীর বরাবর চলে গেছে পিচের রাস্তা। রাস্তার দু'ধারে দাঁড়িয়ে রয়েছে গাছেরা। তাদের ডালপালা ছায়া বিস্তার করেছে রাস্তার উপর ছাতার মতো। গাছগুলো যেন পথিকদের স্বাগত জানাচ্ছে হাত নেড়ে। পাতার ফাঁক দিয়ে উঁকি মারছে মুখে স্মিত হাসি নিয়ে পূর্নিমা চাঁদ। খিল খিল করে আপন মনে হেসে যাচ্ছে নদী। জলে নৃত্য করছে জ্যোৎস্না।

 

 

      আমি আর আব্দুল নদীর তীরে শুয়ে থাকা কংক্রিটের রাস্তা ধরে হেঁটে যাচ্ছি। আমাদের মাঝে আছে একটি সাইকেল। সেও আমাদের হাত ধরে হাঁটছে। আব্দুল আমাকে বলল, "আর কতদিন সাইকেল চালাবা?" "একটি বাইক কিনো।" আমি বললাম, "কিনতে তো ইচ্ছে করে কিন্তু এত টাকা কোথায় পাবো ভাই?" সে বলল, "তুমি তো বেসরকারি স্কুলে পড়াও, টিউশনি করো।" হ্যাঁ ভাই সবকিছু ঠিকঠাকই চলছিল যদিও অল্প বেতন কিন্তু করোনায় একেবারে শেষ হয়ে গেছি। স্কুল বন্ধ, টিউশন বন্ধ, বিড়ি বাঁধা ধরলাম, সেটাও বন্ধ হল, একেবারে হাত খালি হয়ে গিয়েছিল ভাই; সংসার চালানো দায় হয়ে পড়েছিল। তারপর করোনা বিদায় নিল, ধীরে ধীরে সবকিছু স্বাভাবিক হল, ছন্দে ফিরল সব। আবার শুরু হল করোনাপূর্বের জীবিকার পথ চলা। এখন কোনরকমে সংসার চলে যায়। বাইক কেনার কথা মনের জানালায় উঁকি মারে কিন্তু টাকায় কুলোই না। সে বলল, "কিস্তিতে নিয়ে নাও।" নেওয়া যেতে পারে তবে পুলিশের যে বাইক ধরার চাপ ভাই তাতে কিস্তির উপর উপড়ি পাওনা হয়ে যাবে, অবশেষে ভিটেমাটি বিক্রি করতে হবে। সে বলল, "হেলমেট পরে বাইক চালাবা তবে পুলিশ ধরবে না, আরোহীর ভালোর জন্য ধরছে।" আমি বললাম, তা হয়তো কিছুটা হবে। তবে হেলমেট পরে থাকলেও ধরতে দেখেছি আর যদি তারা ইচ্ছে করে কিছু না কিছু ভুল বের করে ধরতে পারবে কারণ বাইক চালানোর বেশ কিছু নিয়ম থাকে যা হয়তো আরোহীরা পুরোপুরি মানতে পারে না। যেমন ধর, তুই স্থানীয় ছেলে, বাজার করার জন্য তাড়াহুড়ো করে হেলমেট পরে বাইক নিয়ে বেরিয়ে পড়েছিস কিন্তু তোর পায়ে জুতো নেই, আছে চপ্পল, বা গাড়ির কাগজপত্র নিতে ভুলে গেছিস, তোকে ধরলো আর ফাইন করলো। আরো দেখা যায় আমাদের মত গরীব ও নিম্ন মধ্যবিত্তদের কিস্তিতে কেনা বাইকগুলোই ধরা পরে, ফাইনের শিকার হয়। ক্ষমতাশালীদের অবশ্য অসুবিধা হয় না। এই কথা বলতে বলতে আমাদের পাশ দিয়ে আমাদের মত একটি সুদর্শন যুবক একটি সুন্দর বাইক নিয়ে চলে গেল। আমি একদৃষ্টিতে চেয়েই থাকলাম। ধীরে ধীরে সামনের দিগন্তরেখায় মিলিয়ে গেল সে। আমার চোখ আবছা হয়ে এল। 

 

©® মোঃ ইজাজ আহামেদ 

০৪:২৬ পিএম, ২৪ জুলাই ২০২৫ বৃহস্পতিবার

Poems

 

 

 

Flux of Peace 

Dr. Laxmikanta Dash, India 

 

Expansion and contraction is the way of life 

Absurdity visualises everywhere in life stripe 

Suave behaviour changes life for beatitude 

Makes life acclimatize in peace vicissitude.

 

Juxtaposition of peace changes human character 

Makes life obsequious by positive behaviour 

Peace impells life towards divine staid 

Avoids stultification in life for heavenly said.

 

Magnitudes of peace changes mingy attitude 

Modification comes in life for absolute 

Peace is immutable in every stage 

Cuddles everyone for healthy fortitude.

 

Aplomb comes in mind towards truism 

Entrancement invokes for regain life-ism

Transgression of peace invites destruction 

Acclimatize deviates and generates deception.

 

Copyright ©️ reserved.

 

 

 Percipience for Humanity 

Dr. Laxmikanta Dash, India 

 

 

Anxieties of worldly life never to end 

Life amid of sarrows and sufferings bend 

Everyone wants to rise by humanistic affiliation 

Life transfers from anguish to awareness position.

 

Radiates energy for self- assurance 

That, converts life into self-persistence

Self- persistence makes life vibrant for humanity 

Life revolves around the service towards prosperity.

Understand suffering others is the way to humanity 

Humanity elucidates brotherhood and integrity 

Virtuous activity uplifts a sense of humanity 

Makes life good-ness for social dignity.

 

Any types of laxity hampers diligence in humanity 

Constant consciousness makes introspection for affinity 

Fundamental flaws in life deviates humanity concept 

Life indulges in contradiction without precept.

 

Copyright ©️ reserved.

 

 

 

 

Passionate Rain

Dr. Laxmikanta Dash, India 

 

 

Rain kissing and dancing 

My passionate heart searching 

A silence drift my soul 

My solemn mind gets its goal.

 

Spell of rain spellbounds me 

Makes me energetic to open your heart key 

Screams of birds makes me hilarious 

Every passage of night welcomes you anxious.

 

Feathers of love open passionate dream 

Every drop of rain kisses with loving cream 

Eruption of love enchants sensation at midnight 

Every pulse of attraction makes my emotions bright.

 

Benighted rain creates beehives with you 

Gives beatitude affection for romantic view 

Makes night clamorous by your tender body 

I feel complacence for love seed.

 

Copyright ©️ reserved.

 

 

 

About the Poet:

Prof Dr. Laxmikanta Dash is a multi-faceted personality and a bilingual poet who has excelled his proficiency in various field of art and culture. At present Dr. Dash is serving as Head of the Department (HOD), Education at Sukinda College, Sukinda, Jajpur, Odisha having more than thirty years of teaching experiences.““Dr. Dash garnered numerous accolades from various literary organisations in India and abroad. He has received more than thirty three numbers of honorary doctorate from various universities and organisations of the world. To his credit Dr. Dash has received prestigious honorary D- Litt from UNO and Theopany University, USA in Education. His poem is enlisted in "Hyper Poem" Guinness book of World Records.He won International Gandhian Peace Award from Casa Poetica, Colombia and Classical Poetry Award,Best English Poet Award from Bangladesh. His many poems has been translated into different languages like Spanish, Romania,Urdu, Bengali. Apart from this he has received hundreds of award and recognitions from various literary organisations in India and abroad. His book "Pritira satadala, Cascading love, Pseudo humanity, Peace Resurrected , Educational Philosophy of Sri Sri Thakur Anukulchandra A Great Ideal man of Twentieth Century, Priti Lagna "are highly acclaimed by the readers.

 

 

*Collected from the poet by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

 

 

 

 

 

০৬:০০ পিএম, ২১ জুলাই ২০২৫ সোমবার

Poem - Cow

 

Mehzabeen Hussain is a distinguished Indian feminist poet, author, qualitative researcher, and cultural curator whose work stands at the rich intersection of literature, activism, and social transformation. Her writing is known for its emotional depth, political urgency, and lyrical strength, often drawing from her field experiences with women across India to explore themes of womanhood, memory, desire, mental health, displacement, and environmental justice. Through her poetry and prose, she has emerged as a powerful voice advocating for equity, healing, and radical empathy.

 

In recognition of her far-reaching impact through both literature and advocacy, Mehzabeen was awarded Radio Mirchi's MIRCHI EXCELLENCE AWARD 2025 for Outstanding Contribution to Literature and Social Advocacy. She is also the recipient of the International Excellence Award 2023 (Poets Category) and was honoured as one of the Female Voices of the Year by Grito de Mujer in the Dominican Republic for her poetic work on environmental justice and domestic violence. In the same year, she was featured in FOX STORY INDIA's prestigious '100 Under 40' list for her exemplary contributions to Indian museums, cultural storytelling, and women-centric narratives. She also represented India as the youngest delegate at the International Poets Meet in Malaysia, marking a significant moment in contemporary South Asian literary representation. Combining the precision of a researcher with the vulnerability of a poet, her poems serve as both a memoir and a manifesto, fighting silence with verse and wielding poetry as a tool of feminist resistance.

 

Mehzabeen’s work has been featured in over ten international anthologies published across India, Malaysia, Austria (University of Vienna), Bangladesh, and the Dominican Republic. Her poems have been translated into Assamese, Bengali, Hindi, and Malay, allowing her voice to travel across linguistic and cultural boundaries. She was a contributor to the landmark global anthology Mother of the Earth: Female Voices for Environmental Activism, published in the Dominican Republic, where her writing stood out as a poetic tribute to women’s roles in ecological preservation and anti-violence movements.

 

Outside her literary career, Mehzabeen is a qualitative research consultant, communication strategist, and content curator. She has worked with several national and international NGOs, engaging with women in vulnerable communities to understand and address critical issues such as reproductive rights, mental health, early marriage prevention, gender-based violence, and legal literacy. Her fieldwork across seven Indian states forms the emotional and ethical foundation of her literary voice, allowing her poems to act as both witness and testimony. This close engagement with grassroots realities adds rare depth and authenticity to her creative output.

 

At the institutional level, Mehzabeen has collaborated with the Ministry of Culture, Government of India, as a lead content curator during the Gandhi@150 initiative. She developed interpretive content for 17 national museums across the country, focusing on Mahatma Gandhi's legacy through a lens of inclusive history, ethical storytelling, and cultural sensitivity. Her ability to blend historical rigor with poetic imagination helped make India’s cultural memory more accessible to contemporary and diverse audiences.

 

She has also worked in the media industry, holding senior roles at PRAG NEWS and RENGONI, including Head of Digital Operations, Research & Communications Manager, and Grievance Officer for A.M. Television Private Limited. Her cross-disciplinary expertise in media, museum curation, research, and literature uniquely positions her at the confluence of culture, narrative, and advocacy. A trained performer in Bharatanatyam, Bihu, and a diploma holder in acting, Mehzabeen often integrates performative art into her poetry readings, making them immersive experiences. This embodied aspect of her work helps bridge intellectual thought with visceral emotion, creating space for communal healing and dialogue. In 2024, her contributions were recognised in a special interview conducted by Richard Spisak for the globally acclaimed webcast Poets of the East.

 

Mehzabeen is an alumna of Lady Shri Ram College for Women (Delhi University) and Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU)—two of India’s most prestigious academic institutions. Her educational journey has shaped her analytical lens, feminist consciousness, and commitment to progressive, liberal thought. Her scholarly publications in respected international journals further reflect her dedication to advancing public understanding of mental health, gender justice, and culture.

 

She is also a mother to a beautiful son, Abir, whose presence continues to shape her perspective on motherhood, resilience, and hope. Through her evocative poetry, sharp wit, and relentless advocacy, Mehzabeen Hussain remains a vital contemporary voice in Indian literature—one that doesn’t just write the world, but dares to reimagine it.

 

 

 

 

 Cow

(A scene from the Maternity ward)

 

By Mehzabeen Hussain

 

 

 

They come with folded smiles and advice,

 

spoon-fed through generations.

 

"Feed the baby, she’s crying again,

 

maybe she’s hungry,"

 

they say

 

every time the child whimpers,

 

yawns,

 

sneezes,

 

blinks,

 

stretches a toe.

 

The baby hiccups.

 

"Quick, open your blouse!"

How many times?

 

How many times in a day

 

can a body be summoned like that?

 

She loses count.

Even when the doctor comes in,

 

checks the baby, smiles gently and says,

 

“She’s full. She’s fine. No need to feed now.”

 

Still they whisper,

 

Still they nudge,

 

Still they insist:

 

“Feed, feed, feed.”

 

 

 

No one checks for her cold feet

 

or tired eyes.

 

No one waits to ask.

 

There is only one answer

 

to every sound a baby makes:

 

Offer the breast.

 

Be the cure.

 

Be the comfort.

 

Be the milk.

 

 

A ceremony of absurdity

 

dressed as care.

 

 

She becomes a myth of milk.

 

Not a person,

 

but a spout.

 

A vending machine

 

on standby.

 

 

They do not see

 

the ache in her spine,

 

the soreness of skin rubbed raw,

 

the tear she swallows

 

while holding the child close

 

once more,

 

again,

 

again.

 

 

She wonders

 

if the baby laughs,

 

will they say,

 

"Feed her. She’s too happy.

 

Must be low on calcium"?

She learns quickly

 

that hunger is assumed,

 

that comfort is duty,

 

that a body

 

once sacred, once hers,

 

has turned into 

 

supply.

She is mother.

 

She is milk.

 

She is cow.

 

 

She is stitched

 

into the logic of livestock:

 

sacred yet used,

 

worshipped

 

but never spared.

 

 

No one asks

 

if she has slept,

 

if she is sore,

 

if she is full

 

of grief,

 

or empty.

Only if the baby

 

has had

 

enough.

 

 

The absurdity moos around her,

 

softly,

 

constantly,

 

as she sits again,

 

baby to chest,

 

blouse open,

 

tired

 

and full

 

and empty

 

all at once.

 

 

*Collected from the poetess by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০৪:৪২ পিএম, ২১ জুলাই ২০২৫ সোমবার

Review of the Italian - Canadian Poetess Rita Amabili`s poem `Killing Children`

 

Review of the Italian - Canadian Poetess Rita Amabili's poem 'Killing Children'

Reviewer: Shah Jehan Ashrafi (Mauritius)

 

Do not kill children.

Do not teach soldiers to do the same

Their actions will haunt you for the rest of your life

The ugliness of war stains these children

Their essence and their souls are deformed by your fault

And you change the human in them before they flee in terror.

 

Don’t kill children.

Whoever you are, whoever they are, don’t do it.

Warn your hand before it becomes a monster

Turn your leg away: it must not bear the blow

Prevent your body from doing the irreparable act

Refrain from acting out of anger

 

No. Don’t kill children

Whatever their colour, sex or eyes.

Whatever their age. Aren’t you afraid of being denatured?

Totally, forever…And what would become of your own offspring?

Stained, smeared, soiled before they have even opened their eyes?

Don’t kill your flesh before you’ve even conceived it.

 

Choose peace. The kind that does your heart good

The kind we talked about when you were a child.

At school? Didn’t you go? At home? Didn’t you have one?

Then dig deep and you’ll find it.

Aren’t human beings made of love? Have we forgotten

To pulsate, to sparkle, to gleam, to blaze, to glow, to shine…

 

And to end up loving. To love. Choose peace. In truth, everything begins

Everything ends with love. Try to combine your life with it,

remake it and see the child for what they are: a treasure, a becoming, a new beginning.

Don’t kill, Don’t kill children. Please don’t be a dreadful harpy

When you were created to bring back to the surface, that oxygen altruism

Which is so lacking. Look at the little ones, find yourself in them.

Suddenly run, run faster than death, than the wound that strikes

us as long as you can, to the end of your breath, of your soul

Run further than the terror, run deprived of those you loved

Who still shudder at the life they left you with, shuddering at its end

Run, wearing the hollow knit of your foolish hopes, which the Great Ones will

tomorrow crush without pity with their high-heeled laws.

Don’t kill the children.

These rosebuds about to bloom, soiled, bruised, but priceless

Short of water, food and medicine. Strong yet puny.

You look like them, be aware of it and be cursed for harming them.

Don’t kill them, because by doing so you are also killing yourselves.

Curse you for harming them and killing yourselves continuously.

 

 

Do not kill children. Do not kill children.

Whoever you are, whoever they are, don’t do it.

Know how to share beyond all animosity, beyond all hegemony

Because in the end we are nothing but ashes

What will you look like when you’re rubble

And hate still guides you?

 

 

They forgive you even if they don’t forget

Don’t kill the children.

Break up the bread that you forbid them to eat

The earth has enough for every living thing. It is useless to deprive them of it.

What will you look like when you are rubble

And hatred still guides you?

 

Reviewed by Shah Jehan Ashrafi:

"Killing Children" reveals the brutal realities of war. Rita Amabili has written a timely and poignant poem, using children as representations of humanity itself—embodying the future of humankind. In Wordsworth’s view, children exist in a heightened state of closeness to the divine and are inherently pure. Amabili also sees this beauty in children and warns that war may strip them of their innocence, potentially transforming them into monsters: “Until you change the human in them before they flee in terror.” This fear is why the priestess in the poem advocates peace. War not only dehumanizes soldiers but also teaches children to mimic violence.

By allowing war to persist, we destroy the very future that children represent. Amabili’s message echoes John F. Kennedy’s sentiment: “Children are the living messages we send to a time we will not see.” The poem urges us to recognize what is lost when conflict takes precedence over compassion. We need, as the poem states, “to pulsate, to sparkle, to blaze, to glow, and to shine.”

The poet seeks to awaken soldiers’ consciences by encouraging them to see themselves in the young victims. The poem becomes an appeal to let children experience the beauty of life—school, home, and love. Soldiers are reminded that they, too, are vulnerable. Therefore, they must offer the world the same empathy and care they expect from it. Instead of projecting hatred onto the world, they have the power to build a future where humanity is cherished.

To reinforce this idea, Amabili asks: “Aren’t human beings made of love?” She urges soldiers to see their victims as mirrors—reflections of their own humanity. The poem also presents the nihilism that underlies all wars. Amabili portrays war as an endless, futile pursuit. The soldiers chase after nothing, compelled to “run faster than death” and “further than the terror.” In this way, the poem becomes a haunting ode to suffering, hope, and the existential void, reminding us that all life must ultimately surrender to death.

In the end, killing children may offer a fleeting sense of power, but the perpetrat

 

*Collected from the interviewer by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০৪:২৫ পিএম, ২১ জুলাই ২০২৫ সোমবার

Poems

 

 

YOU AND YOUR STORY !

 

Your very face does reveal your story

And I don't feel like staying with this

Loneliness often haunts like dear friends 

Somebody always reassures my thoughts

And you frequently come in my dreams

Your presence I always feel with me

The feeling of love inside me sparks 

You have given your heart to somebody 

Somewhere you have lost your heart 

The devil in me dwells in my breath

I like to stay nowhere but in your bosom 

Let me know why this loneliness 

sticks.

 

©️®️Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai@India

 

 

 

 

SANS YOU !

 

I wonder how to spend my time sans you

With no means to communicate with you

Your memory is more than an inspiration

Your distance puts me at a loss now

I can't endure this sans your

company

Your thoughts very often trouble me hard

The dark clouds have encompassed me 

Bringing the rain of my longing for you

My heart is flooded with fond feelings

And to be honest I can’t rescue myself.

 

©️®️ Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai@India

 

 

 

SAD CRIES OF TWO HEARTS !

 

My devotion would be vain if I can’t bow down to you

My life is all useless and purposeless without you

The sad cries of two separated hearts echo in the air

Your faint traces remain in my memories 

Like my shadow you are present in my destiny 

My naive heart is fetching way to get close to you

God is the witness to the destruction of two hearts 

Either God has got angry or this world is jealous 

I will never say a word if you long to be close to me.

 

©️®️Dr Prasana Kumar Dalai @ India

 

 

 

Biography of the Author:

DrPrasana Kumar Dalai

(DOB 07/06/1973) is a passionate Indian Author-cum- bilingual poet while a tremendous lecturer of English by profession in the Ganjam district of Odisha.He is an accomplished source of inspiration for young generation of India .His free verse on Romantic and melancholic poems appreciated by everyone. He belongs to a small typical village Nandiagada of Ganjam District,the state of Odisha.After schooling he studied intermediate and Graduated In Kabisurjya Baladev vigyan Mahavidyalaya then M A in English from Berhampur University PhD in language and literature and D.litt from Colombian poetic house from South America.He promotes his specific writings around the world literature and trades with multiple stems that are related to current issues based on his observation and experiences that needs urgent attention.He is an award winning writer who has achieved various laurels from the circle of writing worldwide.His free verse poems not only inspires young readers but also the ready of current time.His poetic symbol is right now inspiring others, some of which are appreciated by laurels of India and across the world. Many of his poems been translated in different Indian languages and got global appreciation. Lots of well wishes for his upcoming writtings and success in future.He is an award winning poet author of many best seller books.Recently he is awarded Rabindra nath Tagore and Gujarat Sahitya Academy for the year 2022 from Motivational Strips . A gold medal from world union of poets France & winner Of Rahim Karims world literary prize 2023.The government of Odisha Higher Education Department appointed him 

as a president to Governing body of Padmashree Dr Ghanashyam Mishra Sanskrit Degree College, Kabisurjyanagar.Winner of " HYPERPOEM " GUNIESS WORLD RECORD 2023.Recently he was awarded from SABDA literary Festival at Assam.Highest literary honour from Peru contributing world literature 2024.Prestigious Cesar Vellejo award 2024 & Highest literary honour from Peru.Director at Samrat Educational charitable Trust Berhampur, Ganjam Odisha.

Vicedomini of world union of poets Italy.

Completed 248 Epistolary poetry with Kristy Raines U SA.

Books.

1.Psalm of the Soul.

2.Rise of New Dawn.

3.secret Of Torment.

4.Everything I never told you.

5.Vision Of Life National Library Kolkata.

6.100 Shadows of Dream.

7.Timeless Anguish.

8.Voice of Silence.

9.I cross my heart from east to west . Epistolary poetry with Kristy Raines

*Collected from the poet by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০৪:২০ পিএম, ২১ জুলাই ২০২৫ সোমবার

POEM - YOUR PRISONER

 

 

 

Brixhilda Dede was born in Korça (Albania) but currently lives in Thessaloniki, Greece.

She is the author of four books

Recently, she will be presented to the readers with heur new novel "Feniks", which is currently being published Brixhilda Dede has completed her higher studies in food engineering, but she has had her pasion for writing since she was young.

The beginnings of the writings hat she had were songs for children, and then the lyrics of Korça serenades followed.

She has written in many genres, but is especially devoted to prose and poetry.

 

 

YOUR PRISONER

 

 I look for you in my soul. Where the colors of life bloom. 

I go inside and go crazy, Forget yourself. 

Its absence makes longing howl in heart sighs. 

 

I died and came back again, 

Just for you!

I saw,.. you were looking for me endlessly. 

The fool is your prisoner! Without her love, there is no moment.

Divine breath, sent from God!

 

 If you want, come like a solar storm. 

Poured the bright aurora of polar dawns.

 If you want, come like a fire of stars of silvery nights, 

Through blue lights, the desire to enter the blood, to caress the stem cells in the straw of the back. You just come!!

 

©®Brixhilda Dede

 

*Collected from the poetess by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০৬:৪৪ পিএম, ১৮ জুলাই ২০২৫ শুক্রবার

STORY - WHO WILL STAND UP FOR YOU

 

WHO WILL STAND UP FOR YOU

Dr. HC Rozalia Aleksandrova

 

Poet has served the Word his whole life. That's what the Soul was telling him. In the beginning it was easy and inspiring. The words leapt out of themselves before his eyes and rejoiced when they touched the white paper. They quieted down  and seemed to call him: come to us! Poet could feel their power and with even greater inspiration he awaited the next guest.

 

Years passed.

 

One day Poet did not wait for a guest. It was unusual. Quietly. And then it got sad.

 

Poet went headed off to the mountain. 

 

He didn't see or hear anything.

 

Just looking for the word and the words. And the intoxication they brought him.

 

The road was narrow and lonely, but something told him that his faithful companions were up there.

 

The words suddenly appeared. But not just those who drove him crazy with their whirlwind, but somehow others - dignified. And very light. It was difficult for them to touch the white sheet. It was as if they were running away from him.

 

Poet has reached the top of the mountain. He looked up at the sky and the sun. He looked down. He saw nothing. But he heard the whisper of the mountain:

 

- Where are you headed?

 

- I'm looking for the words.

 

- You are not looking for the words, but you are looking for yourself.

 

-Yes you are right.

 

- What did you find?

 

- I lost them. I lost my joy.

 

- Now where?

 

- Yes, where - asked Poet. And he had no answer.

 

- It's time for you to rest - said the mountain. - The road was long, but it always ends.

 

- I understand that it is so - said the Poet. - Was that all?

 

- Yes for now.

 

Poet sat on a stone and tried to remember his life. But he saw nothing but those words that made him happy.

 

- Who will stand up for you when you come back to me?

 

The sigh of the mountain startled him and he jumped. He began to look around. Who indeed? He noticed the eagle circling high above him. He looked down and saw the endless green of Life.

 

He ran back to find his protectors. His foot nearly stepped on an edelweiss. He bowed to the flower and left.

 

A mountain stream delighted him with its clean water and ... music. Yes, it was singing tirelessly in its own language. And Poet understood his every word and note.

 

Further down, he met two titmice, who waved at him with their wings and continued their amorous duet.

 

Poet arrived home. And there were so many people waiting for him - acquaintances and strangers. Their faces were blessing and loving him.

 

Poet sat on the bench in front of his house. And so he stayed.

 

And around him circled his most faithful friends and protectors - the words that he gave life to on Earth.

 

© Dr HC Rozalia Aleksandrova

 

 

About the Authoress:

Dr. HC Rozalia Aleksandrova lives in Plovdiv, Bulgaria. She was born in the magical Rhodope Mountains, the cradle of Orpheus. Author of 12 poetry books, she is editor of more than 35 literary almanacs, collections and anthologies. Her poems was translated into many languages: Polish, English, Danish, Sweden, Spanish, Arabic, French, Chineese, Bengali, Percian, Greek, Serbian, Russian, Italian, Albanian, Bengali, Bangla, Ivrit, Turkish, Azerbaidjani, She is translator from and in Polish, Russian and English. Her poems have been published in many prestigious collections, almanacs, literary magazines and websites in Bulgaria, Europe and the world.

In March 2006 she created a poetic-intellectual association "Quantum and Friends" for the promotion of quantum poetry in civil society, Plovdiv and Bulgarian phenomenon. Founder and Chief organizer of the International Festival of Poetry SPIRITUALITY WITHOUT BORDERS from 2015. Every year The Festival publishes an almanac.

She is also President for Bulgaria of association Mill Minds for Mexico International, President of the Bulgarian Chapter of the Global Federation of Leadership and Hi Intelligence, Advisor for Literature of CCTV from 2022. Too - Coordinator for Bulgaria of World Youth Parliament – Mexico 2023 and World Festival Women in letters 2024; Honorary President for Bulgaria of UHE; she is in the Board of Directors of website Atunis Poetry and other.

Apart from being a Poetesse, she is also a scientist. She deals with the study and reflections of quantum and torsion theory in the field of language, poetry, culture, medicine, philosophy and methodology of science. She has published a book with popular science essays "Let's open the door to the meaning or reflections of information science“, Plovdiv 2015.And she publishes new essaistic book “The Wonders of Poetry”in Bulgarian – 2025. She has published more than 35 populare essays from 2010 to today.

She has many prestigious international and Bulgarian poetry awards and awards for World Peace and literature (for example: Mahatma Gandhi Peace Prize 2022). She is Doctor Honoris Causa of UNQE – Mexico.

 

*Collected from the poetess by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০৬:৩২ পিএম, ১৮ জুলাই ২০২৫ শুক্রবার

POEM - CHILD OF THE WORLD

 

 

CHILD OF THE WORLD

Dr. HC Rozalia Aleksandrova

 

I saw a child behind a wire fence.

The sky through barbed wire.

Has the world said goodbye to hell?

Or is the huge space is an inherited plot!

 

 

The eyes of innocence are blind.

But we've seen through, haven't we?!

And on this day I understood, 

That conscience, Poet, cannot complain. 

And to keep quiet.

 

 

The children of Palestine are the flowers,

Whom this world has hurt.

And everyone carries 

The guilt within themselves.

Children behind barbed wire fences.

And the world – is in dept.

 

 

 

Dr. HC Rozalia Aleksandrova lives in Plovdiv, Bulgaria. She was born in the magical Rhodope Mountains, the cradle of Orpheus. Author of 12 poetry books, she is editor of more than 35 literary almanacs, collections and anthologies. Her poems was translated into many languages: Polish, English, Danish, Sweden, Spanish, Arabic, French, Chineese, Bengali, Percian, Greek, Serbian, Russian, Italian, Albanian, Bengali, Bangla, Ivrit, Turkish, Azerbaidjani, She is translator from and in Polish, Russian and English. Her poems have been published in many prestigious collections, almanacs, literary magazines and websites in Bulgaria, Europe and the world.

In March 2006 she created a poetic-intellectual association "Quantum and Friends" for the promotion of quantum poetry in civil society, Plovdiv and Bulgarian phenomenon. Founder and Chief organizer of the International Festival of Poetry SPIRITUALITY WITHOUT BORDERS from 2015. Every year The Festival publishes an almanac.

She is also President for Bulgaria of association Mill Minds for Mexico International, President of the Bulgarian Chapter of the Global Federation of Leadership and Hi Intelligence, Advisor for Literature of CCTV from 2022. Too - Coordinator for Bulgaria of World Youth Parliament – Mexico 2023 and World Festival Women in letters 2024; Honorary President for Bulgaria of UHE; she is in the Board of Directors of website Atunis Poetry and other.

Apart from being a Poetesse, she is also a scientist. She deals with the study and reflections of quantum and torsion theory in the field of language, poetry, culture, medicine, philosophy and methodology of science. She has published a book with popular science essays "Let's open the door to the meaning or reflections of information science“, Plovdiv 2015.And she publishes new essaistic book “The Wonders of Poetry”in Bulgarian – 2025. She has published more than 35 populare essays from 2010 to today.

She has many prestigious international and Bulgarian poetry awards and awards for World Peace and literature (for example: Mahatma Gandhi Peace Prize 2022). She is Doctor Honoris Causa of UNQE – Mexico.

*Collected from the poetess by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০৬:৩০ পিএম, ১৮ জুলাই ২০২৫ শুক্রবার

Poems

 

Francesca Gallello G.I.N. Gòmez wrote her first novel at the age of just 9. A poet, writer, screenwriter, literary critic, columnist, publisher, and Italian cultural promoter, she is the author of numerous novels with social and historical themes, as well as several poetry collections. Her poetic style, defined as “gallelliano” by scholars who follow its evolution, is appreciated and translated into more than ten languages.

She has collaborated with various authors and directs SATURNO Magazine, a publication dedicated to art, culture, and society, offering space to writers and artists from around the world. She is also the founder of the historical-cultural association RADICI, created with the aim of uncovering often-silenced historical truths about the Italian Risorgimento.

She was the first woman in Calabria to found and direct a publishing house, Veliero aps, and she organizes numerous cultural events in Italy and abroad. Her social commitment extends to the fight against violence toward women and children, as well as volunteering in a juvenile detention center, where she leads theater and creative writing workshops.

Throughout her career, she has received numerous national and international awards and honors. She was named among the 20 most respected journalists for her commitment to promoting peace and strengthening intercultural dialogue, a title awarded by the prestigious international magazine LEGACY CROWN CORPORATION (Philippines). Furthermore, the newspaper ALROWAD NEWS (Cairo, Egypt) included her among the 100 most influential literary and artistic figures of 2024. For her dedication to culture and human rights, she was awarded the title of Ambassador of Peace by the World Literary Forum for Peace and Human Rights (USA) and the Universal Peace Federation (Albania–Italy).

Poesia

"I Wish I Could Stop the World" By Francesca Gallello Gabriel Italo Nel Gòmez

With dimmed eyes, blind to hope, the heart beats to the rhythm of bombs and weapons. I wish — by some magic — to stop this mad world, to step off, and take with me all the broken hearts, the trembling souls, the weeping mothers, the hungry children.

My hands, in prayer, tremble, soaked in silent tears. Where has the divine dream of peace and brotherhood gone? Where are the children’s smiles — the real ones, the ones that light up the sky?

I wish I could find them again, gather them one by one, and place them in their tired eyes, to see — at last — tears, yes, but only tears of joy.

 

 

 

Where No Hands Are Clasped

Francesca Gallello G.I.N. Gòmez

 

Love me like the wind loves the leaf, lifting it gently, but never holding it. Be like the morning sun: it gives its light without asking if anyone awaits it.

 

Let me be neither yours nor mine, but ours — like the earth belongs to those who till it and to the sky that blesses it.

 

Do not seek me when you are thirsty, but come to me when your heart has learned to drink from its own silence.

 

Because love that begs is slavery dressed in white, and love that commands is a storm that believes itself a spring.

 

Love me as one loves a distant song: without trying to grasp it, only for the joy of hearing it pass by — yes, that is how I want you to love me.

 

 

I Wish I Could Stop the World

 Francesca Gallello Gabriel Italo Nel Gòmez

 

With dimmed eyes, blind to hope, the heart beats to the rhythm of bombs and weapons. I wish — by some magic — to stop this mad world, to step off, and take with me all the broken hearts, the trembling souls, the weeping mothers, the hungry children.

My hands, in prayer, tremble, soaked in silent tears. Where has the divine dream of peace and brotherhood gone? Where are the children’s smiles — the real ones, the ones that light up the sky?

I wish I could find them again, gather them one by one, and place them in their tired eyes, to see — at last — tears, yes, but only tears of joy.

*Collected from the poet by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০৬:২৫ পিএম, ১৮ জুলাই ২০২৫ শুক্রবার

Poem - With Love and Hope

 

Arelis Danger de la Cruz is a Cuban engineer, writer, columnist, and poet born in Baracoa, Guantánamo, in 1966. She is a member of several international organizations, including the International Chamber of Writers & Artists, CIESART GLOBAL, and the Royal International Academy of Art and Literature. She has participated in international poetry festivals, book fairs, and virtual poetry events. She has received national and international awards and recognition for her literary works, such as the 2024 International Golden Scroll Award sponsored by CIESART GLOBAL, the "Mtra. América Del Rio" State Literature Award, and the 1st Prize in the "Literary Asia - 2024" International Literary Competition.  2024 z., Recognition for Poetic Excellence, Given in Panama 11/17/2024, Special Mention of the Jury Nomination for the Intercontinental Arts Award "Dr. Amb. Mary Espinoza Peña", Golden Globe World Award for her fight in favor of environmental conservation, State Literature Award "Aldorriquelmo Auhalulco", Certificate of Honor Amazon Productive Foundation Parnassus 21st Century Poetic Movement Given in Ontinyent Spain;  and, Quito - Ecuador, June 15, 2024, Professor Ciro Artemio Constantino Álvarez International Award, awarded by the Royal International Academy of Arts and Literature 2024, International Academic Diploma, Contemporary Literature International Federation of Writers, Poets and Artists for World Peace, July 25, 2024 Code: 00044-FID, García Mánquez Literature Prize July 2024, Cuba. Roots and Soul Golden Trophy, Virtual Group of ARTS POETRY & LITERATURE, State Literature Prize "Prof. Joaquín Álvarez Añorve" Coyuca De Benítez, Gro.  Mexico January 5, 2025, Recognition for the Decalogue shared at UNESCO Madrid, February 5, 2025, Love and Poetry Award International Cultural Community Alliance, Recognition for participation in the Anthology "STREET ANGELS", in support of the rights of boys and girls who have suffered and are suffering from abuse, malnutrition, harassment and other factors that threaten their innocence. Chascomús, Buenos Aires, Argentina - February 20, 2025, Anthology for Humanitarian Aid of the Red Cross.  Ciesart (2023-2024), Anthology "A Call to Peace II" Written offering to His Holiness Pope Francis International Chamber of Writers (2024), Participation in the Literary Olympiad" held from September 25 to 30, 2024, International Arts Award 'Dr. Amb. Mary Espinosa Peña" 2024, Diamond Pen. COYUCA DE BENÍTEZ, GRO.  September 30, 2024, UNIVERSAL POETIC UTOPIA THE GREATEST POETS IN THE WORLD USA BRANCH, first anthology for UNIVERSAL PEACE, AWARD: PASSION AND POETRY, WORLD ALLIANCE OF POETS AND WRITERS 2024, Certificate Symbol of Literature and Culture, Potosina Academy of Modern Literature, September 5, 2024, Participation in the 1st World Congress of Peace and the Arts Machoacan 2024. International Diploma CULTURE AND PEACE, Date/2024 Code:00047-FID, State Prize for Literature "Prof. Joaquín Álvarez Añorve".  She has also been named World Peace Ambassador for 2024, CIESART Cultural Ambassador for 2025, and 4th Prize winner in the CIESART France Coffee and Love Contest. She participated this year in the 1st World Congress of Poets United for Peace and Life on Earth. Her works are included in 13 international poetry anthologies and literary publications. Her poems are disseminated on social media and radio stations in Turkey, India, Mexico, Russia, Colombia, and Argentina.

 

 

 

With Love and Hope 

Arelis Danger de la Cruz Country (Cuba)

 

Each one with their own hope of love

With a light that illuminates and makes us dream

Give thanks to life, which gives us every day,

Let us break the hatred that makes us suffer and cry.

 

Let's end the wars that divide and kill us

And bring peace, in full harmony and love

That peace that does not judge or subdue

And respects everyone, no matter who they are.

 

May it be the light of hope that guides us

And may love be the path that leads us forward

Without fear, without borders, without barriers

And may peace be what envelops us in a sincere embrace.

 

May each person, with their own hope, be the seed

That germinates in the heart and blossoms in the soul

And may harmony unite us

In a world full of love, where we all fit.

 

Let's break hatred and bring peace!

Let's end wars and live in brotherhood and joy!

 

©®Arelis Danger de la Cruz Country 

 

*Collected from the poetess by Md Ejaj Ahamed*

০২:৪৫ পিএম, ১৮ জুলাই ২০২৫ শুক্রবার