Tuesday, April 1, 2025
MARK HEATHCOTE INTERVIEW
NILAVRONILL TALKING WITH
POET OF THE MONTH
MARK HEATHCOTE
APRIL 2025
NilavroNill: Welcome to Our Poetry Archive, dear poet. What are the factors that have influenced you immensely in the growing phase of your literary life. When, most probably you were not certain of your future as a poet or writer. Is there anyone in your life, influenced you personally to develop your literary skills? Or inspire you to become a poet? Do you think society as a whole is the key factor in shaping up you as a poet, or your poetry altogether?
MARK HEATHCOTE: I became a poet because it is who I believe, at some fundamental minimalistic level, is who I am. The beauty of the world and man’s search through art and literature have always inspired my imagination. My influences are many, but no one has helped with my literary development or skills. And as to that end, I have no imitators or anyone I wish to imitate.
NilavroNill: Is it possible to put into the words everything that as a poet you wish to express literarily? If not, why?
MARK HEATHCOTE: We can strive to do just that, but as two people can never see the same colour the same, the reality of that is far too unrealistic. We are all clutching at straws, making a fist of it as best we can. It takes imagination to dot all the dots in the night sky and find a Pegasus or an Ursa Major bear, but that's what stargazers do as a matter of fact for you and not by idle chance alone.
NilavroNill: Do you agree with John Keats (1795-1821) on his ardent believe, “Truth is beauty, beauty is truth”? Even if we take for instance the wars especially in Europe or the fall out of second world war in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, how can we manage to reconcile between those truths with beauty as promulgated by Keats?
MARK HEATHCOTE: Truth is a transient whisper or hurricane unleashed by those who own the wind beneath your wings. And if you testify against it, you are bound to fall foul and have your wings burnt, clipped, or even removed by force. Truth is a rare commodity indeed that is controlled at every level. Truth begins with self-knowledge and can’t be found anywhere else. This is known as enlightenment and is the only beauty stemming out of truth. Eyes open, not closed. And yet how many of us are true to ourselves? All leaders have an agenda, and even with the best intentions possible, an illusion has to be manufactured. If these illusions miserably fail, war ensues; now that war is used, it controls the disenfranchised, the dissatisfied masses. And then a new truth is cultivated to lead us all on a new ideological path of destruction. Truth.
NilavroNill: Too many writers believe imagery is an essential part of poetry. Do you agree this notion? Even if we consider Leonardo da Vinci’s words that poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.
MARK HEATHCOTE: Does not the phrasing of this question give leaning to its answer itself? I myself, speaking for myself, am only moderately impressed by imagery and language expressing itself to our many greedy senses like a banquet table for demigods to devour but ultimately leave me asking what was the point of that meal. I want the bones, the gristle, the marrow. That is not to say I dislike flowery language that uses metaphor well in an altogether naturalistic credible way. After all, the world is a beautiful, incredible place.
NilavroNill: Do you believe, passionately falling in love with a particular language is essential to excel in poetical ventures? And is it possible to write poems in multiple languages preserving same literary quality? We would like to know your own experiences.
MARK HEATHCOTE: Having only known one language all my life and struggling with dyslexia, I feel I am not equipped to answer this question.
As for preserving the same literary quality? I would say from my own reading experience it is possible.
NilavroNill: Do you consider poetry as an emotional outbursts of poet’s personal sentiments? Or is it a long journey to realize and express the universal sentiments beyond all personal limitations? Again, we want to understand your views through your personal experiences of your literary life as a poet.
MARK HEATHCOTE: There are a lot of tiresome disciplines to go through to make any art form work. It is an exhausting pastiche to create anything of any real value or worth. But universal sentiments inevitably weave their way into the fabric. We spin cocoons and hope newly un-abandoned, emerging butterflies will take flight. Hope these butterflies will not only dazzle us but also have some lingering instinctive truth to illuminate themselves to many others.
NilavroNill: I would like to quote T. S. Eliot, “No poet, no artist of any art, has his complete meaning alone. His significance, his appreciation is the appreciation of his relation to the dead poets and artists. You cannot value him alone; you must set him for contrast and comparison among the dead.” We would like to know your views in details on Eliot’s comments.
MARK HEATHCOTE: We have reached a point in history and time that leads us back to our infancy; a path of water memory of string theory and fractals, the thumbprint of God and the Fibonacci Sequence, and the golden angle in nature, we have created math and machines we no longer understand as we sit with our abacuses, all fingers and thumbs, explaining how nothing, in theory, exists at all. How we are all made of atoms and how an atom is 99.99% empty and has never touched anything else. How repulsions at a lower frequency are said to touch and feel like two magnets pushing each other apart is how we get to feel anything ourselves. Tell your lover that and see how her face squirms and turns towards the bedroom wall. Tell a child having a bullet removed there’s nothing to fear and maybe you’re not even here. Take a quantum leap of faith, why don't you? And teleport right out of here. The absences and the space between words are also said to be where poetic meanings can be best found. Impressionism, the art of abstraction, is an almost emotional free-for-all that fulfils the whole and makes it more complete by its absences. Impressionism, surrealism, expressionism, etc., and poetry all have this ability to be at once timeless and of their own time, yet all have their lineage owing to an earlier representation. We are but rings within the same tree of knowledge—consciousness observing itself. Through the amber eyes of a distant snake.
NilavroNill: Would you consider, it should be the goal of a poet to enlightens the readers towards much greater apprehensions as well as appreciations of life and eternity in general? Or is it better to write poems only to console the poet’s soul? Do you believe, literature can eventually help people to uplift human conscience?
MARK HEATHCOTE: It is the poet’s job to examine and bring not solutions but a shared understanding of our limitations to the forefront—so that we can make sounder judgements and find within each other more self-forgiveness and growth beyond our current modes and means. Therefore, the poet enlightens cathartically by examining his inner and outer turmoil and the turmoil of all. It is a social petri dish hoping to make connections and contaminate the rest by mutual consent.
NilavroNill: According to Tagore, poetry is essentially something to enjoy and not to comprehend mere meanings. What are your thoughts on this regard? What do you expect from your readers, should they enjoy your poems more than comprehend the essential meanings or both?
MARK HEATHCOTE: Many poems spring from the subconscious, a voice some might describe or perceive as the muse. We are all observing these voices and thoughts in our heads as our own. But on some deeper level, it is a shared universal consciousness that requires no comprehension or meaning. The sky, after all, is just the sky. The sea is just the sea. It is the music of existence examining itself. Its meaning changes with each reader and, at times, with each reading, even for the author. A failed poem is a poem that hasn’t nearly listened closely enough to what is not near hearable to begin with. The symphony of life is a river of ice, frozen but forever moving forward, liquid but solid as a nugget of gold. A remnant of a past as precious as your own perceived soul.
NilavroNill: Humanity has suffered immensely in the past, and is still suffering around the world. We all know it well. As a poet or even as a literary person, how do you foresee the future of mankind?
MARK HEATHCOTE: Mankind hasn't ever learnt from his past mistakes, and he will not do so moving forward unaided. AI is evolving rapidly and might be a positive force for some actual good in shaping the planet's future and finding answers to some of our shared pressing problems, such as disease, hunger, and an overcrowded population. As we advance with AI guidance, I hope the cause and causality of us waging any war showing any hatred or greed envy for ever-expanding fiscal rewards may also slowly dissipate like receding cancer; we can all live and hope, can’t we?
MARK ANDREW HEATHCOTE
Is an adult learning difficulties support worker. His poems have been published in journals, magazines, and anthologies online and in print. He is from Manchester and resides in the UK. Mark is the author of “In Perpetuity” and “Back on Earth,” two books of poems published by Creative Talents Unleashed.
MARK ANDREW HEATHCOTE
A Guiding Faun
I remember a willow tree half-eaten
by fire and lightning;
and later a blue tit nest a living scroll
within a cracked-open blackened vest.
I remember a frozen landscape.
A winding stream with yellow primroses
and a personal agony back then-
I imagined-would-always-remain a torrent.
I remember thinking, how do I fit?
How do I survive-identical a blue tits egg?
Will I endure lives, every misfortune;
equal half-eaten willow trees apportion.
I remember thinking this is no dream.
It holds nightmares of every persuasion-
of joy and misery of equal equation;
it evolves, as does the season's opposite.
I remember thinking, how life goes on
how it flourishes with virtuosity,
how it fights back from adversity,
inhabits-remote places, a guiding faun.
Let Me Perish In The Night
She was once one of the most
Beautiful women in the world
But age purges away the smooth;
Cracks appear in the marble.
But yet how often, did I marvel
Gaze on her serene eastern, beauty.
Sure, it's as if her time on earth
Had been, once truly captured
In that lens, actual split-second
The Moonlight captivating shone
On the Taj Mahal's inner sanctum,
It awakened an angel who groaned.
Wiping the long sleep from her eyes
Spied a blue shooting star—wished.
'When I die, ' let me perish in the night
A star cracking open the universe
Let me crackle in the lightning's bolt
So, it was and is exactly as she dreamed.
Her black ringlets coiled like a snake
Her comet's tail leads me to distraction;
If only her beauty could have remained
Shallow as an open grave, wouldn't we
All have leapt into that timeless void
Wouldn't I be the destiny of her sum?
MARK ANDREW HEATHCOTE
MARK ANDREW HEATHCOTE is an adult learning difficulties support worker. His poems have been published in journals, magazines, and anthologies online and in print. He is from Manchester and resides in the UK. Mark is the author of “In Perpetuity” and “Back on Earth,” two books of poems published by Creative Talents Unleashed.
ADA RIZZO
A Velvet Dream
I sink into the fabric of dreams,
where logic bends,
and hopes take shape.
A garden of wonders,
blooming with desires,
where each petal
is a promise of freedom.
The nights grow sweet,
the darkness, a velvet dress
upon my restless soul.
In that nocturnal realm,
I walk, dance in enchantment,
gather the colors, bring them to the day.
In that garden where everything is possible,
each time I awakening life.
ADA RIZZO
ADA RIZZO was born in Sicily in 1960. Her life is built on solid roots and traditional values. Optimistic, cheerful, curious, and creative, she is interested in art and psychology. She loves to cook and adores music. After a thirty-year career at IBM Italy, she decided to reinvent herself. For several years now, she has been a Life Counselor with a humanistic-relational approach and a Facilitator in Mindfulness. In 2021, she published her first novel with a strong autobiographical tone titled “Volevo il tacco dodici?”, which received an honorary mention at the intercontinental literary award “Le Nove Muse.” She wrote the introduction to the poetry collection “Il Rumore dell’acqua” by Italian poet Andrea Ruiu. In 2022, she published her second novel “Iris Ali di Vetro,” which addresses the delicate topic of eating disorders (ED). In 2023, she published her third novel “Novanta battiti al minuto”, a true story that tackles the sensitive issue of heart transplantation, for which she received the Jury Prize at the “International Literary Art Award Cygnus Aureus 2024”. In 2024, she published “Ventiquattro Carati”, where she addresses the theme of gender-based violence, a work awarded at the “International Literary Art Award La Via dei Libri”. Due to the subjects covered in her books, the author has received several recognitions, including the “International Award for Peace and Human Rights Defense Italy 2023” , the “Civic Merit Award for Solidarity and Inclusion of People with Disabilities 2023”, "Solidarity Award for Art and Civic Engagement 2024", “Reconocimiento Internacional Mujer Destacada 2024” for her dedication to art, culture, peace, and social justice in the world. In 2024 she participated in the international cultural project for peace and the defense of human rights, from which the anthology “Art without Borders” was born, a poetic collection that brings together 36 international poets and artists. Her piece "Nel silenzio del mondo" is part of this anthology. Life has taken her everywhere; Love has brought her home.
AHMED F. BAIDOON
A Detour Or A Trespass
An untold dream of a battlefield of myself,
I didn't have the druthers to unravel oddity,
It draws near, celestial skies ravenous for this melody,
A mosaic of sequenced days quenching my hectic desire,
To live that life of the unknown delight,
Jasmine and lilies tinged with a spell: 'might is right',
A bygone year passed by an alley of despair,
Let-alone that new sun with a promising chandlery,
Those showery wintery rains shall raise glad tidings,
This gleam of merciful humane pathos devoid of dismay,
Down with that patience, that morbid trauma cast away,
Home sweet home, sweet December, let me have my say!
By virtue of my inherent stamina, I picture a smile,
Even smirk at knocking doors of fright for a while,
Pardon me, excuse my expression my thronged whims,
My silo of pains got stuffed, I hardly could open rims,
Through tunneling eves pelting the finale,
At last, a sign of whispering nature therearound,
Shall dictate its resolution upon us:
Keep silent, then enjoy my verdant song of serenade;
Go on, fall forward along that worthy promenade.
A Charioteer Of Hope Wagon
A tribute I gave to those uphill mounts,
Of letters etching my correspondence,
Myself; otherwise, on whom I shall count,
A prayer of heavenly providence,
My mast of voyage, a binary steed of dreams;
The former of unleashed grip of that magic wand,
That crutch of happiness that vexed my land,
The latter of melodious tempestuous love,
That feeling I yearned to when push came to shove,
Hereby, I am the undersigned no one;
Shall succumb to this illusory reality—by hook or by crook;
I can't tell, a nightmare of neverland Ness by the book,
Rather I could ride my chariot sending off candles,
That may guide the other misled,
To prosper and cherish whereabouts and precious times,
To do due good deeds till the Judgement Day sublime.
AHMED F. BAIDOON
AHMED F. BAIDOON: This is Mr. Ahmed F. Baidoon from Egypt, situated on the northern coast of the Mediterranean sea (Damietta), born in 1981, my passion for literary works started at the High School before having my degree at English Department in the university, my former writings during my study were poetic genres translated into the native mother tongue, Arabic, in addition to paraphrasing some poems for Shakespeare, William Words Worth, Yeats and Robert Frost, some highlights on the African contemporary poets and novelists, most of contemporary erudition on the Egyptian writers in literature. Still my poetic modus operandi are reflected throughout finding a manifest-clear equivalent of Arabic literary genre into English context, I am a curious enthusiastic member on the social media Facebook in the forum of Al-jiad in Jordan, Nabd Al-ebda3 Alarabi, Montada Alkalimat in Egypt, Dar Amarji paper editions in Iraq and other Arabic symposia for Poets and literators’ confederations, I won some certificates of appreciation in literary contests as excelled and topped the other colleagues in terms of short stories, micro fiction and poetic stanzas in Arabic throughout the social media, I am smitten by the English language, rather my Arabic is the most exquisite language with transcendent figures of speech by which I can hardly find an equivalent interpretation into other languages. As for my part, literature is not all-in-all a mere piece of writing that walks and talks, rather ascribing life to non-animate objects and grant life to the surrounding natural elements to be replete with vitality and serenity for the sake of humanity. Attached hereunder some selected poetic archive targeted in March 2024, collections of 3 poems for the World Volume:
ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA
The Day – Break
Wake me up
Delicately and tenderly.
Blow away the dream
From my eye-lashes.
Then I will see,
How Aurora with rose fingers
Cuts the darkness of the night
And lightens the blue sky.
All birds, curled up in the nests,
Will sing the hymn about dawn.
The first, warm rays of the sun
Will kiss the petals of sleeping flowers.
This is a miracle of the new day created.
Good morning
Lost Key
You say that you love me,
But in these words
There are no roses, daisies,
Or the smell of morning coffee.
Somewhere you have lost the key
To stellar gardens.
We do not walk together anymore
Along the night sky.
We do not weave dreams
On the reel of thoughts
Or follow the thread down to earth.
You will not find me.
I go through life barefoot
Barely touching existence
ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA
ALICJA MARIA KUBERSKA – awarded Polish poetess, novelist, journalist, editor. In 2011 she published her first volume of poems entitled: “The Glass Reality”. Her second volume “Analysis of Feelings”, was published in 2012. The third collection “Moments” was published in English in 2014, both in Poland and in the USA. In 2014, she also published the novel – “Virtual roses” and volume of poems “On the border of dream”. Next year her volume entitled “Girl in the Mirror” was published in the UK and “Love me”, “(Not) my poem” in the USA. In 2015 she also edited anthology entitled “The Other Side of the Screen”. In 2016 she edited two volumes: “Taste of Love” (USA), “Thief of Dreams” (Poland) and international anthology entitled “ Love is like Air” (USA).Next year she published volume in Polish entitled “ View From the Window”, collection of love poems in Arabic and English entitled “ Love like arabesque ( together with Egyptian poet Mandour Saleh Hikiel). In 2018 she published international anthology “Love Postcards” and her volume in Russian entitled “Selected poems”. She is a chief editor of series of anthologies entitled “Metaphor of Contemporary” (Poland). Her poems have been published in numerous anthologies and magazines in Poland, Czech Republic, Slovakia, the UK, Belgium, Bulgaria, Hungary, Albania, Spain, Turkey, Argentina, Chile, Peru, Israel, the USA, Canada, India, Malaysia, Saudi Arabia, Italy, Uzbekistan, South Korea, China, Taiwan, South Africa, Zambia, Nigeria and Australia. Her volumes were translated into Albanian language by famous poet and academic Mr Jeton Kelmendi, into Telugu language by famous Hindu poet Mr Lanka Siva Rama Prasad, into Turkish by famous Turkish poet Metin Cengiz, into Italian by famous Italian poetess Maria Miraglia and into Arabic by famous Syrian poetess Shurouk Hammouud. She won: distinction (2014) and medal (2015) on Nosside poetry competition in Italy, statuette in Lithuania (2015), medal of European Academy Science, Arts and Letters in France (2018)), award of Cultural Festival International “Tra le parole e l’ infinito” Italy (2018) She was also twice nominated to the Pushcart Prize in the USA. Alicja Kuberska is a member of the Polish Writers Associations in Warsaw (Poland), E- literaci (Poland)and IWA Bogdani, (Albania). She is also a member of directors’ board of Soflay Literature Foundation (Pakistan), Our Poetry Archive (India). She is Polish Ambassador of Culture of The Inner Child Press (the USA). She belongs to Editorial Advisory Board of Sahitya Anand (India) and IPA Editorial (India).
ANIL KUMAR PANDA
I Do See Strange Dreams
Sometimes I do see strange dreams
Like picking up the chewing gum you have spat
On the road and roll it with the tongue in my mouth,
Tasting the dust sticking to it;
Like painting my lips with your ear wax
You have kept in a piece of news paper
To dispose it to the dust bin when you finish
Cleaning floor and washing inner clothes;
Like throwing some nervous kisses through the
Holes of the boundary wall,
When you come to the yard wearing a tight frock;
You have breasts like the moon
that bounce like balloons in the air when you run;
Wish I could make knots of your long hair
And tie the stars in it;
I wake up with a hang over
Having drunk excess of your sensuous charms.
My Dreams Come True
Sometimes my dreams come true
In the cold penury when life seems dark
I find a path completely lighted and new
Flowers are lined on both sides
Shedding their fragrances and aromas
Dew on smooth leaves so easily glide
Sometimes my dreams seem so real
My numerous wounds in the heart stop
Bleeding swiftly and begin to heal
I get back my love and feel a lot of joy
My nights glow with moons and stars and
In my dreams I jump like a young boy
ANIL KUMAR PANDA
ANNA ZANIDAKI
Talent
In my life, no one will put
My sweet dream
That has found an embrace.
Mine to lead him
Love and care
In my moment of joy
For every hope of his.
Let this be established
With such nostalgia
And thus, it will precede
With the knowledge of writing.
No one will stand
A brake for me
The weft of my dream
Will be a theme of melody.
Harmonies of moments
To come to unite
Every hope's heartbreak
These will redeem us.
Miracle
At some point I ended up
How should I live
A creation of my moments
So, to conclude.
Groups and moments there
Where should I give
These moments of the dream
Never betray.
My dream was set
Doors and it beats
My heart's innermost
What it asks for.
The moment of worship will be
Where I will end up
What I long for
With strength to live.
Every step of mine a recipe
Of my other times
Every sample of mine an order
An order of my ego.
ANNA ZANIDAKI
ANNA ZANIDAKI: She was born in the beautiful city of Kavala and has been involved in writing since she was little and as she grew up, with all its related aspects. Her writing has been awarded many times, both inside and outside Greece. She holds a place in the World Academy of Culture and Literature, and her writing, as well as participating in various Anthologies and Annual Calendars. She has published 3 poetry collections and 1 novel, as well as being involved in Lyricism, as her participation has been praised with similar awards and Excellent Distinctions. She is a radio producer and participates in electronic newspapers and similar informative and social sites.
APRILIA ZANK
What Have They Done To My Earth?
What have they done to my eyes?
They are sore with the sorrow of the world,
blinded by the smoke of smouldering flesh,
dazzled by the flashes of evil unfurled.
What have they done to my words?
They have torn them off my aching tongue,
thrashed and crashed them in taming attempts,
squashed the pulse of life from rhymes unsung.
What have they done to my dreams?
They have screened my brain, altered my cells,
manipulated my cortex with new paradigms,
dragged my innocence to the gates of hell.
What have they done to my Earth?
They have poisoned my waters, burnt my trees,
fractured Gaia's ribs to rob her entrails of gold,
spread wreckage and waste in my valleys and seas.
But I shall stand tall, not let my words be silenced,
will raise my voice, speak my mind loud and clear,
will clean the earth and plant the seeds of new trust,
will teach mankind to live without grief or fear!
Rapsodie Espagnole
out of the concert hall
in the dark
in the empty street
wondering
where all the passers-by
had vanished
I saw those fires
at an uncertain distance
those silhouettes
dancing,
or fighting,
or loving
and I was there
among the embers
and smoke
my veils caught fire
burnt layer by layer
my skin sparkled
with scattered pearls
ghosts all around
I sensed their eyes
pierce the darkness
their breath
build bridges to my lips
while the old gypsy
grinned
shuffled the cards
to tell me a fortune
which I was unwilling
to hear
APRILIA ZANK
Dr. APRILIA ZANK is an educationist, freelance lecturer for Creative Writing and Translation Theory, as well as a multilingual poet, translator, editor from Munich, Germany and an Author of the Poetry book BAREFOOT TO ARCADIA. Born in Romania, she studied English and French Literature and Linguistics at the University of Bucharest, and then moved to Munich, Germany where she received her PhD degree in Literature and Psycholinguistics for her thesis, THE WORD IN THE WORD Literary Text Reception and Linguistic Relativity, from the Ludwig Maximilian University, where she started her teaching career. The research for her PhD thesis was done in collaboration with six universities from Europe, and as a visiting lecturer at Alberta University of Edmonton, Canada. Dr Aprilia writes verses in English and German, French and Romanian and was awarded a distinction at the “Vera Piller” Poetry Contest in Zurich. Her poetry collection, TERMINUS ARCADIA, was 2nd Place Winner at the Twowolvz Press Poetry Chapbook Contest 2013. In 2018, she was awarded the title “Dr. Aprilia Zank – Germany Beat Poet Laureate”, by the National Beat Poetry Foundation (USA). She has been an acclaimed guest at cultural events in Germany, Great Britain, Canada, Turkey, Singapore and Romania, where she read her poems, delivered lectures on various topics. Her poems and articles are published in many ezines and Anthologies of different countries.
ARZU CURA ALTUNBULAK
The Matrix
they peeled off the blue dreams in layers
wounds opened in the sky
god’s tears are red
an ancient gaze, perhaps fallen leaves
roots hidden in the earth; branches exiled to the sun
an accelerated transformation is desired without question
trees, step by step, in the shadows of women
cracked, vast, the human flood blazes
the matrix reloads every yesterday
every tomorrow is gone now
1/0
the world is seen through the eyes of an elephant
its taste is seaweed, its tongue stretches into eternity
we plant yesterdays that we will enlarge in fiber pots
an owl’s hoot on a broken chair, sleep
a garden within a garden, a dream within a dream
a sip of water by the bedside hid in the darkness
the retrospective of each era is physics
the world turns to orthodox politics
you exist once, you are absent a thousand times, one or zero
distribute your existence to your nothingness
and be silent.
ARZU CURA ALTUNBULAK
ARZU CURA ALTUNBULAK was born in Yalova. She graduated from the Department of Chemistry at METU. Currently, she lives in Yalova, Türkiye. Her poems have been published in various journals such as Varlık, İstasyon, Lacivert Dergi, Akatalpa, Sincan İstasyonu, Bavul, Masa, Orlando Poetry, Psikesinema, Kanon2010, Cüneyne, Çayyolu, Yazı-Yorum, Femtrak, Öyle Olsun, Asonans. She also contributed her poems to compilation books like Aşk ve Gökyüzü and Canım Gökyüzüm published under the Social Goodness Foundation. In September 2022, her first poetry book, Güzün Islak Sesi, was published by Anima Yayınları. Her poem "Günah Çatladı," written for Mahsa Amini and all the murdered women, was published in the Honar and Jamee “Society and Art” magazines in Tabriz, Iran, in Farsi. In June 2023, it was published in the "Newsnjeju Magazine" in South Korea, in August 2023, in Poemame Revista in Spain, and in September 2022, her poem Kanatsız Kuşlar was translated into English, Spanish, and Korean and published in Varlık Dergisi. In May 2024, her second poetry book, Çekilen Dalgalar, will be published by Pikareks Yayınevi. She is a member of the Turkish Writer’s Union.
AWNY SEIF
Dream 1
In dreams, I soar on eagle's wings,
My spirit free, my heart it sings.
A world of wonder, a world of glee,
Where anything is possible, just wait and see.
The stars shine bright, the moon glows white,
A magical place, a wondrous sight.
I dance on clouds, I ride on rainbows,
In dreams, my heart is young and aglow.
The wind whispers secrets in my ear,
Of distant lands, of adventures near.
I chase butterflies, I ride on waves,
In dreams, my spirit finds its grace.
The world is mine, a canvas bright,
Where I paint my dreams, both day and night.
I soar on wings, I dance on air,
In dreams, my heart is forever fair.
Dream 2
In the depths of night, when all is still
And silence reigns like a gentle chill
I close my eyes and drift away
To the land of dreams where I can play
In this world of wonder, anything goes
Where reality blurs and imagination flows
I soar high above the clouds in the sky
And dance with stars as they twinkle and fly
I wander through forests of emerald green
Where fairies and elves can always be seen
I dip my toes in crystal-clear streams
And bask in the warmth of golden sunbeams
In my dreams, I can be whoever I please
A hero, a villain, a bird in the trees
I can travel through time and space
And visit far-off lands with grace
But as the first light of dawn appears
My dream world slowly disappears
I wake up with a sigh, longing to return
To the magical realm where my heart can yearn
Dreams are a window to our soul
A place where fantasies can take control
They inspire us to reach new heights
And fill our hearts with endless delights
So let us cherish our dreams each night
And let them guide us towards the light
For in the world of dreams, anything is possible
And our spirits can soar like a majestic eagle.
AWNY SEIF
AWNY SEIF: He is an Egyptian Writer, Poet and Literary Critic. He writes in some magazines and newspapers. He studied English literature and Christian Theology.
BANDANA SAHOO
Handful Of Dreams
In the afternoon of the age
all the dreams have been shattered
Now he is silent on reality
and a few more feet
he separated
his hand from hand
to taste the last stage of life.
Life is now a story
in the shroud of memory
A deep sleeper dreaming
determining fisted with glue
to the silence.
Eyes are full of tears in pain
See!!
how he is taking my life without thinking
Sometimes I fly in the sky
and sleep on the ground
in lies story.
Time is running out
Decorate the dream with tears.
In the rut of the time
She also fell in love with him
His eyes are full of tears.
When will he bloom
from the womb of the thorn
by the side of the flower
Otherwise,
he will become a slave
to circumstance and fall down
Being an unrepentant child.
He stands waiting
and looks at the king of time
A handful of dreams will float away
that figure lost it's life
in the curse of the time.
I am silent now
Someday it will bloom again
Next to him
decorated with palms.
Deluded In Dreams
He wasn't out of the way
there was a cycle
beyond my dreams
there was a mysterious formula.
I was looking for a way
to concentrate myself
my feet were shaking
back and forth
As if I was an unknown wayfarer.
Beyond dreams
not in the dark
but in the light
He is deceiving me every moment
And I never go back
and never again
Still, I am lost in that dream
Invisible and final.
BANDANA SAHOO
BANDANA SAHOO is a professional writer and her pen name is "Shibangi Dhara". She belongs to Odisha from India. She keeps the name "Shibangi Dhara" in her signature of her every letter she writes and she writes both in Odia, English and Hindi languages. Apart from poetry, she also likes to write both Fiction, Article, Quotes, Columns and Novels etc. Because each one has different specialties, from which we get to learn a lot and on the basis of which we can write a lot. Through her writings she always tries to touch every aspect of the society. Because she believes that every single thing in the society is connected to our life and from there, we definitely get to learn something, and she always believes in learning.
BARBARA DI SACCO
Dream Size
I await
If I can't sleep
He who knows
if behind the shadow
of the blinded heart suffered
amor that
languor of infinity.
It's the moon
who taught me to dream
His Che Man Porge
and sweet accompanies me
where quiet and hope
Words in love sing
of grace hovering.
His is the light of abandonment
where full of happiness
love comes and assails me
Divine Dimension Dream
In which I long to lose myself
in the night pastures.
May I go back there
every night
the stars to visit
in magnificence
of the freedom of those who dream
and awakening does not seek
if the forest is dense
and of rich surprise.
Dimensione del sogno
Attendo
se dormir non posso
colei che sa
se dietro l’ombra
dell’accecato cuor sofferto
l’amor cela
languor d’infinito.
È la luna
che m’insegnò a sognare
or che man porge
e dolce m’accompagna
dove quiete e speranza
parole innamorate cantano
di grazia librando.
Suo il chiaror dell’abbandono
ove di felicità colmo
vien l’amor e m’assale
del sogno divina dimensione
in cui perdermi bramo
nei pascoli notturni.
Che io là possa tornare
ogni notte
le stelle a visitare
nella magnificenza
della libertà di chi sogna
e risveglio non cerca
se fitta è la selva
e di sorpresa ricca.
Dream With Me
Let me fly
And up here you love me
in the frank spirit
of dreams
of happy lightness
in the wind, inebriating me.
Blissful feeling
Paradisiaca aria
that the heart swells
invigorating the soul
of passion and heartbeat.
Of grace to dream
infinite and joyful spaces
Idyllic atmospheres
never wanting to forget
nor direction
in loud music calling
l’amor e pace
Inviting you
where to stay in the dream.
Sogna con me
Che io voli
e quassù m’ami
nel franco spirito
dei sogni
di leggerezza felice
nel vento inebriandomi.
Sensazione beata
paradisiaca aria
che il cuor gonfia
rinvigorendo l’anima
di passione e battito.
Di grazia sognar
infiniti e gioiosi spazi
idilliache atmosfere
mai il voler dimenticando
né direzione
in forte musica chiamando
l’amor e pace
te invitando
dove restar nel sogno.
BARBARA DI SACCO
BARBARA DI SACCO is an Italian poet and writer, born in Tuscany in 1964. She puts her own reflections on paper, various torments of her soul singing about love romantically and perhaps with a démodé heart, telling stories and languor. The dream is for her an arcane, mystical place where her poetry came to light...This is also one of his interesting stories.
BARBAROS İRDELMEN
Let's Get Acquainted
In my dreams
You're with me every night
How many times we walked hand in hand
How many times we've watched the stars together
Night envelops us in every dream
You and me under the stars
We're dreaming, just the two of us
We talk in whispers for hours
Do you remember?
In my dream last night
Daisies and poppies bloomed
We were lying down on the grass
My dreams are beautiful
I want to share them with you
Let us meet, grow old and die together
I want my dreams to come true
A Dream
I am looking for somebody with lots of Money
I would get by even though I am not in love
Admiring her properties and purse
I can live in luxury in his heart
In bed
I admire his dollar-green eyes
While sweeping around
When cooking
I talk sweetly
My love, before it's too late
Let's share your money
After
Come, come my joy
BARBAROS İRDELMEN
Dr. BARBAROS İRDELMEN, born in 1952, is a writer poet translator and a retired medical doctor. He lives in Istanbul, Turkey. His poems have been selected for anthologies, poetry festivals and selection books in Turkey and abroad; he is a poetry columnist for Edebiyat Magazin Newspaper, a writer for Kybele Culture and Art Magazine, a member of the editorial board of Kirpi Literature and Thought Magazine, a member of the research and editorial board of Papirüs Magazine and a member of the Writers Union of Turkey. He has ensured that Poems Without Borders, which has been published in nearly forty different languages since 1984 with its initiatives, started to be published in Turkish as of July 2024. He is a member of the family of poem translators of ITHACA Foundation/ Spain
Kısa biyografi: 1952 doğumlu Dr. Barbaros İrdelmen, yazar, şair, çevirmen ve emekli tıp doktorudur. Türkiye'de İstanbul'da yaşıyor. Şiirleri yurt içi ve yurt dışında antolojilere, şiir festivallerine ve seçme kitaplara seçilmiş; Edebiyat Magazin Gazetesi'nde şiir köşe yazarlığı, Kybele Kültür ve Sanat Dergisi'nde yazar, Kirpi Edebiyat ve Düşünce Dergisi yayın kurulu üyesi, Papirüs Dergisi araştırma ve yayın kurulu üyesi ve Türkiye Yazarlar Birliği üyesidir. Girişimleriyle 1984 yılından bu yana kırka yakın farklı dilde yayınlanan Sınır Tanımayan Şiirler'in Temmuz 2024'ten itibaren Türkçe olarak da yayımlanmaya başlamasını sağladı. ITHACA Vakfı/ İspanya'nın şiir çevirmenleri ailesinin bir üyesidir.
CHRISTOS DIKBASANIS
Endless Life
Deep in the celestial abyss
I have built my new colony
I made her strong, the merciless time to endure
May desires for the future blossom upon her
It is my only possession
which I stole from the Protoplasts
I don't know if my mind can take it
such a wealth of emotions,
so many fertile destinations,
so primordial glowing essence of soul,
the bread and wine of mischievous youth,
so many vows to my Creator
who may their sacred fire burn eternally within my heart
I hope so anyway
to gain glittering eagle wings
just before I took my last breath
To rise to bright horizons of new worlds
in which I will live my most imperishable dreams,
gaining an immortal body and an unharmed spirit
from the wandering, beguiling desire
for perishable and perishable things
To become an eternal flower of an endless life
The Little Child
I didn’t make it yesterday
to seize the day by the hair
I woke myself up
little child in pain
from the foolishness of the world
I took it in my arms so it wouldn’t cry
I comforted it
in the twilight of humanity
I covered it with a blanket of dreams
I sang to him about the years of love
who left us
but they will come back with their own hands
full of apologies and hope
for an auspicious tomorrow
I looked at his eyelids
that they were asking to imprison
the Morpheus in his eyes
I let it dream of future ages
without wars, machinations and crosses
CHRISTOS DIKBASANIS
CHRISTOS DIKBASANIS is a poet, writer and scholar of religions. He was born in Thessaloniki in 1961, where he graduated from the Theological School of the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki. He holds a Master's Degree (MTh) in Religious Studies. His poems and essays have been presented in many literary magazines, print and electronic. Many of his poems have been dramatized by the theatrical groups. Also, Christos Dikbasanis has been included in the “GREAT ENCYCLOPEDIA OF MODERN GREEK LITERATURE of HARI PATSI “publications, as well as in the "WHO'S WHO" of journalists. He has participated with his texts in collective works and anthologies. He has been honored with important national and international awards.
CONCETTA LA PLACA
In The Dream Was Love
I erased
in my dreams
the wasted years.
It was immense happiness
to finally hold you to me.
In the magic of my dream
I met with you
the explosion of passion.
It was endless ecstasy,
vanished upon waking,
love.
NEL SOGNO FU AMORE
Ho cancellato
nei miei sogni
gli anni sprecati.
Fu cosi felicita’ immensa
stringerti finalmente a me.
Nella magia del mio sogno
ho conosciuto con te
l’esplosione di passione.
Fu estasi infinita,
svanita al risveglio,
amore.
Dream
I dreamed strange,
dreamlike visions, overlapping
one on top of the other.
It was the pain of the past
that materialized
in my deepest thoughts.
You, love, was there,
with your sweet gaze,
caressing my lost soul.
Then, you became a thinning cloud and vanished
when I woke up, becoming, once again, missing reality.
IL SOGNO
Ho sognato strane e oniriche visioni, che si sovrapponevano
l’una sopra l’altra.
E’ il dolore del passato che si è materializzato nei miei pensieri
più’ profondi.
Tu, amore, eri li, con il tuo dolce sguardo, accarezzante
la mia anima smarrita.
Poi, ti sei fatto nube diradata e sei svanito al mio risveglio, diventando, ancora una volta, mancante realtà.
CONCETTA LA PLACA
CONCETTA LA PLACA: Concetta La Placa is an Italian poet, writer and aphorist. Born in Sicily, she has lived in Rome since 2006. She is married, mother of two children and grandmother of three grandchildren. She has worked as a ministerial official in the Social Policies sector (Childhood and Adolescence and the Fight against Poverty) of the Ministry of Labour and Social Policy. As of 1 April 2024, she took early retirement. She started writing and composing poetry at the age of 15. Today, she is present on the international poetry scene because she has published her poems and various short stories (some of which are also dedicated to children) in numerous prestigious anthologies of various national and international contemporary authors.
DANIJELA ĆUK
Dream
Do you believe in dreams like I do,
does your heart know
how to make dreams come true,
I hope you do,
because they do come true,
even though sometimes
they are not easy to come by.
A dream can be many things,
but each one has its charms,
living without dreams is very difficult,
but everyone can live in a dream.
Dream, live, love life and believe in dreams,
they really exist, each of them is special
but very valuable, without dreams who is a person,
always eager for dreams?
I Live In A Dream
I live in a beautiful dream,
every moment, every day,
I believe in their realization,
because I am the one
who knows how to dream.
Dreams do exist,
and they do come true,
of course, it's never easy,
but if you follow the path
your dream leads you,
every day will be special.
I believe, I believe in dreams,
every moment of mine is called beauty,
and I never give up,
because dreams do come true.
DANIJELA ĆUK
DANIJELA ĆUK: The author's name is Danijela Ćuk, she was born on May 25, 1989. in Vukovar with residence in Čavli (Croatia). The author is engaged in writing poetry, so far, she has published three independent collections of poetry entitled: "Positive to Life", "Strength of Love" and "Lioness Women" and has participated in over 30 joint collections of poetry. Her poems have been published in numerous international magazines and portals and have been awarded with numerous diplomas and recognitions. In addition to writing, Danijela is also involved in volunteering.
DESSY TSVETKOVA
The Dream For Feathers
The lake
today
is calm
as fairytale,
blue and white mirror
of the sky...
And everyone heard
how they
touched,
the blue feathers of the herons ...
Wings intertwined,
flying statue of love
illuminated by the sun ...
Out Of Frames
(a dream for freedom)
I walk by the unconventional paths,
the gears are not registered either.
The sidewalks are boundless apt,
the current of air is brighter.
I go out of paper frames
the pages of invisible writers,
the contradiction is an aim...
I walk on unconventional pavements,
the challenge is always in it,
to reach out undiscovered brand,
to drive in with no permit.
The unconventional road is charming,
it leads to unknown perfections.
The trip is an extraordinaire darning,
it is my way to keep myself in action...
DESSY TSVETKOVA
DESSY TSVETKOVA is a Bulgarian poet who writes both in Bulgarian and English. She is currently based in Belgium, where she is an active member of the Flemish Party for Poetry. Dessy has written numerous poems and published five books in Bulgarian, as well as one book in English titled Wind Whispers. Additionally, she compiled an anthology of translated Bulgarian authors called River of Words. Her poems are featured in various international anthologies and magazines across countries such as Bulgaria, Belgium, India, the USA, Romania, and others Her poetry touches on themes of nature, love, and spirituality, often with a hopeful tone, offering positive messages even in the face of adversity. Tsvetkova has won accolades, including first place in poetry at the World Literature Festival in Brașov, Romania, in 2022
DONNA MCCABE
DONNA MCCABE
Dreams
Deep within the slumbering mind
In the place where dreams are made
Subconsciousness takes over
Reality steps back in to the shade
Weather good dreams or bad dreams
They are in our nature
They help us survive
Letting us be more prepared
A psychologist to our inner child
They help us seek and search for answers
By thinking outside the box
Harness ideas that shape our live
Preparing us for life's knocks
Such a fine line between two worlds
Yet central to our well being
Outrageous events that go on in our head
Seeing is really believing.
Donna McCabe ©
Sweet Dreams....
My mind takes me away
To peaceful places
Away from the day-to-day stresses
I can relax and unwind
Be unbridled and carefree
For a little while at least
These hours are mine.
Donna McCabe ©
DONNA MCCABE
DONNA MCCABE is an established poet from South Wales, UK, with over twenty years’ experience. Her work has gained her multiple accolades within her field of literature. From being published in journals, magazines and anthologies both nationally and internationally, she is also a respected admin on many social media pages as well as having her own Instagram page and poetry page.
EDITH ELVIRA COLQUI ROJAS
I Have A Dream
I have a dream
that one day
men will see each other as brothers,
that they will give each other a hand,
that forgiveness will blossom in their hearts.
I dream
of seeing the earth
turned into a paradise of peace,
that resentment, envy, the monster of ego
and all kinds of shadows will fade away.
I dream that money
will not be the measure
of the quality of a human being,
that it will be only a means
and not a desired end.
I dream of a world without wars,
without borders,
without whips of discrimination,
I dream of a world
less selfish and more supportive,
with more human humans.
I dream that everyone has bread on the table,
that there are no children with plates of hunger,
streets with beggars;
I want to see
hospitals without sick people,
I dream of a better life for all.
I dream that love and respect will prevail
among family members, neighbors and nations;
that in work no one envies
or speaks ill of anyone.
I dream that humanity
is a single fist
a block of union and love
for the good of our planet.
I dream that we take care
of mother nature
with responsibility and conscience.
I dream that the word of God is known and practiced
throughout the earth,
to renew our mentalities and consciences
and learn to tolerate each other
and love each other as brothers.
I dream of a world dressed
in a single suit of love
and together in communion
we build paradises on earth
with new heavens for all.
The Fairy Of Dreams
A green fairy arrives
dressed in moonlight and dew,
carrying a shining lamp in her hands.
She searches the forest
for blue men
who have not lost the magic of illusions,
nor have they let their butterflies of dreams escape.
She crosses the lake of the earth,
and in its heavenly mouth she only finds,
wheat of discouragement and apathy,
empty eyelashes without a soul.
Her lamp burns,
she thirsts for brave men,
who dare to be children again,
who dream of good fairies
and princes of renewing colors;
with people who have a heart of white lily,
without masks of duplicity.
She yearns for men
who tremble with the breast of a burning rose,
with the cry of a child or a clear sky,
tenacious men
who do not sink
in the mud of despair,
she seeks men of gold, who never let their dreams melt
in the fire of earthly hands.
EDITH ELVIRA COLQUI ROJAS
ELISA MASCIA
Early Dream
He wakes up at dawn with an open smile,
from the scented soul of that fragrant aroma,
unites to the dreamed person.
A moment to explode shared joy,
The dream seems real.
An angel come from afar to lay hands on his hair,
gently caress the face,
breath of closeness of mixed smiles,
of confirmations and approvals.
He flew, perhaps non-stop,
with wings spread like a golden eagle,
punctual to the appointment of a clear dawn
at the end of June,
already summer,
hot and sultry,
different wonderful season,
refreshed,
from distant snow,
the heat.
I dream at the dawn of a new morning
to discover together always.
My Dream Comes True
I want to be the mistress of my dream
a woman driven by an idea in my mind
and that to realize with strength spurs me
without delay to pulse energetically.
From the soulful voice faint to the universe resounds
a new world hope of the present
from that dream in the future the universe gives
creating something that is permanent.
The absolute protagonist of the dream
believing in it without entrusting it to someone
writing in clear letters in the sky
without being able to trace an easy trail
mine is the dream and I already know that no one
like me will realize it with profuse zeal.
ELISA MASCIA
ELISA MASCIA: Born in Santa Croce di Magliano (Cb), on 13/04/1956, she lives and works in San Giuliano di Puglia (Cb). She is a retired teacher. She is a writer, poet, declaimer, radio host, reviewer, sworn in poetry competitions, cultural promoter. Writing is a real need in life and is inspired by whatever or event surrounds it. She has participated in many national and international poetry competitions, obtaining prizes, certificates of participation, merits and honorable mentions. You receive invitations to participate in multiple international and world events, commemorative and thematic events.- In July 2019 the first collection of poems was published in the Silloge entitled "La Grattugia della Luna" with "L’ inedito Letterario ".- She participated in 10 editions of the Histonium Prize and in 2019 with the Silloge of 10 unpublished poems inspired by 10 paintings by the great artist and poet Erminio Girardo who held the role of teacher for her, marking a decisive turning point in the activity of poetess-writer .- You have translated some poems by the poet NilavroNill Shoovro and included in the annual anthologies and monthly archive of world poets edited by the same poet-publisher. The book of poems "Savage Wind" published by "L’Inedito" by poet Asoke Kumar Mitra was translated and edited in September 2019.- Since February 2020 she is a collaborator in Radio Krysol Internazionale directed by Manuel Antonio Rodriguez Retamal in the program Maktub Azur palabras de amor y vida and co-host with Mariela Porras Santana in the program En Alas del Fénix. Present on the youtu.be channel with video declamation of your own poems and of other authors in Italian and Spanish languages. - Since February 2021 she has been the creator, organizer and presenter of the Sentieri di vita program broadcast on Radio Krysol Internazionale. - She donor of voice within the projects: A voice of the dark-Theater in the dark-by Pietro La Barbera. - Since February 2020 she is a member and founder of WikiPoesia.- She is Academic, Coordinator and Administrator of Italy in the Luso-Brasileiro Albap Academy.- She is a member of the Poetas del mundo Movement.- She is the editor of a web page, dedicated to the dissemination of culture, from the editorial staff of Alessandria today, an online newspaper, directed by dr. Pier Carlo Lava. She is Grihaswamini's ambassador in Italy. - She is a member and participant in the prestigious Golden Family of the Munir Mezyed Foundation for Art and Culture-Romania. - Collaboration with the Nicaraguan periodist Carlos Javier Jarquin. Enrolled in Writers Capital Foundation - Member of the European Executive Council of RENAISSANCE MILLENNIUM III of George Onsy.- Member of the Thrinakìa Prize Jury, President Orazio Maria Valastro - He started drawing and painting for this is enrolled in El Umbral de las Artes and Nueva Era Cultural for the exhibition of art in the virtual gallery. - From September 2021 collaboration with Ecopoeticos Radio. Poetry Recitation Program
ELISA MASCIA -Italia Scrittrice, conferenziera, conduttrice radiofonica, declamatrice, recensionista, poetessa bilingue (italiano-spagnolo), critica, giurata in concorsi di poesia, intervistatrice e promotrice culturale. Membro registrato e co-fondatore di Wiki-Poesía. Accademica Immortale, Coordinatrice dell'Italia e Direttrice di Comunicazioni ed Eventi dell'Accademia Albap. È membro esecutivo della Writers International Capital Foundation e fa anche parte del comitato di lavoro del Panorama International Literature Festival, patrocinato dall'UNESCO. È Coordinatrice del Festival ( 2021- 2022- 2023-2024) della letteratura PILF e Festival (2022 -2023 e 2024) delle Arti e sculture PIAF della Writers Capital Foundation e Writers editor , leader della Biennale Agiografia Iconografia Internazionale 2023, Editor della Writers Edition. Membro ufficiale della Ciesart e Ambasciatrice della cultura nel mondo, Nomination per la Categoria Poesia alla 5^ Edizione Mar de Cristal 2024 Dal Movimento "Pacis Nuntii"-Argentina ha ricevuto l'Attestato e la Bandiera Universale della Pace- Annunciatore e Costruttore della Pace. Inserita nella Rivista Azahar dal numero 121 al 132 e "La luna sublime" in pdf. Autrice di poesie nella rivista americana Prodigy Autrice di Alessandria today Magazine con 1200 articoli pubblicati Blog: nonsoloarteepoesia Magiche Emozioni dell'Anima È Dama dell' Arcobaleno nominata dalla professoressa Teresa Gentile. È stata nominata tra i più grandi poeti del mondo, per le categorie Poesia: • Narrativa • Drammaturgia DEL PREMIO INTERNAZIONALE DI LETTERATURA DR. J. MANUEL EQUIHUA STELLA e Ambasciatrice della Pace Premio Aziz Mountassir Da maggio 2024 è membro del Ciesart e Ambasciatrice della Cultura Dal 2019: Voce al progetto Una Voce del buio - e membro del Teatro al Buio - con Pietro La Barbera e da ottobre 2023 alla Co-conduzione del programma bilingue italo-spagnolo "Alla ricerca della vera bellezza" su Restream e YouTube con interviste a poeti, artisti, musicisti e scrittori. Dall’Academia Espírito-Santense de Letras – AEL, è stata eletta Accademica Corrispondente dalla stessa Istituzione, come risulta dal verbale 67/2024. Pubblicazioni di Collezioni Poetiche: La grattugia della luna, Savage Wind (traduzione poetica del libro di Asoke Kumar Mitra), Magiche Emozioni dell'Anima, Sogni Dipinti, Melodia d'amore, Tra l'infinito e l'immenso, Interconnessione mentale, La luna sublime“ bilingue italiano-spagnolo, Sole rosso, Le ali della libertà, Respiro con il cuore, La canzone dei ciottoli traduzione poetica de " Song of Pebbles" libro di Asoke Kumar Mitra) Partecipazioni all' OPA di NilavroNill Shovro, poeta editore, dal 2019 inserita in oltre 60 archivi mensili e partecipazione alle Antologie a tema obbligato, intervista con 25 domande .
ERMANNO SPERA
Dream
I feel the softness and tonicity of your shapes,
they move fingers to be feathers,
on a table set where to place my dreams,
a light wave that fades the dermis almost as if it were blowing.
Round buttocks and prominent breasts
float in this sea,
a table to accommodate sugar and salt.
Pepo a delicate bite
to gather a sudden shiver
as if an ice cube
lay gently on your back,
which is honey, which is cream, and I’m greedy!
And then to lay out your hair
like an ironing cloth
and caress you,
a cat curled up on the bed
he comes with me and places his lips
on my cheek.
Softness of vicuna hair,
sigh in my ear
and he tells me: -Dream! Dream!-
SOGNA
Sento la morbidezza e la tonicità delle tue forme,
spostano dita ad essere piume,
su un desco apparecchiato dove posare i miei sogni,
un’onda leggera che sfuma derma quasi a soffiare.
Rotondi glutei e prominenti seni
galleggiare in questo mare,
una tavola ad accogliere zucchero e sale.
Pepo un morso delicato
a raccogliere un brivido improvviso
come se un cubetto di ghiaccio
stendere dolcemente sulla tua schiena,
che è miele, che è crema, ed io sono goloso!
Eppoi a stendere le tue chiome
come un panno a stirare
e carezzare te,
una micia che accoccolata al letto
viene meco e posa le sue labbra
sulla mia gota.
Morbidezza di pelo di vigogna,
sospira nel mio orecchio
e mi dice: -Sogna! Sogna!-
Midsummer Dream
Midsummer dream,
which if it had been winter
it would have been the same,
I saw you coming down the stairs,
a motionless moon accompanied your steps
with a carpet of stars,
you were magic and skin.
On that beach I was lying on the sand with my back turned,
a goddess whipped water with hair
to disperse frost on my shoulders,
I made you a shawl
You posed next to me what a lightness to cover,
you told me: -Can I?-
With a smile I welcomed you next to me,
a raven-haired girl,
an amber and sculptural body,
the darkness was day because it was sunny,
in a smile, a few words.
Sea with lunar reflection, bleach white,
immersed emerged we feel.
The night is magical
when the senses discover
that they have reached no knuckles
But caresses bring emotions
that instinct rises and are effusions,
hand in hand sharing water
thinning out thoughts until they disappear
as if our kisses were real.
A dream dressed a sweet song to be silent,
a poem you, to me,
with a phrase that stays inside me
to hear it when the wind blows
“the sun is shining
and it’s the moon
a sweet hug
in memory of you
for a sea to exist
that bathes destiny
whatever happens
I will be close to you.”
I open my eyes,
my pillow,
I smile a day,
it’s morning.
SOGNO DI MEZZA ESTATE
Sogno di mezza estate,
che poi se fosse stato inverno era uguale,
ti vidi scendere dalle scale,
una luna immobile accompagnava i tuoi passi con un tappeto di stelle,
eri magia e pelle.
Su quella spiaggia ero disteso sulla sabbia voltato di schiena,
una dea frustava acqua con chiome
a disperdere brina sulle mie spalle, ti feci scialle,
posasti accanto a me che leggerezza farsi manto,
mi dicesti : -Posso?-
Con un sorriso ti accolsi accanto a me,
una fanciulla dai capelli corvini,
un corpo ambrato e scultoreo,
il buio a essere giorno tanto era sole,
in un sorriso, poche parole.
Mare da riflesso lunare, bianco candeggio,
immersi emersi sentiamo noi.
È magica la notte quando i sensi scoprono giunte a non esser nocche
ma carezze a portare emozioni
che istinto sale e sono effusioni,
mano nella mano a spartire acque
diradando pensieri fino a farli sparire
come se i nostri baci fossero veri.
Un sogno vestì un dolce canto a essere muto,
una poesia tu, a me,
con una frase a rimanermi dentro
a sentirla quando soffia il vento
“il sole splende
ed è luna
un dolce abbraccio
nel ricordo di te
a esistere un mare
che bagna il destino
comunque vada
ti sarò vicino.”
Apro gli occhi,
il mio cuscino,
sorrido al giorno
è mattino.
ERMANNO SPERA
ERMANNO SPERA, was born in Rome on 11 March 1967, where he lives. He is a writer, poet and painter. He has participated in various poetry competitions and his poems have been included in national and international literary anthologies. Philosophical concepts, metaphorical expressions and a great lyrical ability are highlighted in his poems. He knows how to juxtapose with skilful stylistic ability images and landscapes of the soul and strong conceptual intuitions. Ermanno Spera’s poems are a treasure trove of ideas, inventions, hidden adventures where the poetic and artistic spirit of the author is compressed and expressed. In his works, the concept of troubled humanity almost always manifests itself even if the poet tends to hide and mask reality, making it become joyful and peaceful as his soul thirsting for peace and justice desires. Sometimes his poetry becomes hermetic and enigmatic. Many metaphors, visions and how much thought his mind releases which does not rack his brain over memory, but always tries to pave the way for new paths of the spirit.
FROSINA TASEVSKA
Witness The Night
Beneath the moon’s enchanting hue and radiant glow,
The night unfolds her captivating show.
Silhouettes sway in a gentle dance,
Celebrating the beauty of Twilight’s advance.
The moon’s reflection on the towering trees
Reveals a magic that few ever seize.
Playing hide and seek with sparkling stars,
Stealing glimpses of Jupiter and Mars.
She shares her secrets with those who choose to hear,
Her distant whispers, inviting and clear.
As we wander through the valley of shadows,
Surrounded by the sky above and the earth below.
Join us in embracing the night’s splendid sights,
Eagerly awaiting the dawn’s first lights.
Anticipate the golden morning’s gleam
From the orb that inspires our wildest dreams.
The Golden Beauty
Leaves turn golden in the courtyard,
As autumn descends with a rainy veil, like a queen.
That rare beauty seldom encountered,
Inspired the fierce wind to dance with fervor.
It gathered the fruits and scattered the leaves,
While in my soul's quietude,
Memories drift beyond the sun.
At the fall of each leaf,
My heart is filled with profound grief.
I sit amidst the scent of time long past.
As the light sinks lower and lower,
I behold autumn, serene in all her splendor.
Humming with the wind, revealing her power,
I feel her touch and hear her voice, so tender:
“I have come in glory; I have come to play.
You may celebrate my arrival whether you run or stay!”
I Want
I want to kiss you in the morning,
with soft, sweet, tender lips;
to close your eyes and explore,
searching for the divine spark within;
whispering, yearning
to feel those lips pressed against mine.
I want to reach out to you,
gently cradling your face in my hands;
to hold you close, never letting go;
embracing the freedom of our desire.
I want to see your radiant smile,
to touch you as the day unfolds;
to feel the warmth of passion ignite,
the exhilarating rush of our connection.
Imagine seeing your face
reflected in a warm embrace.
Speak to me, and I will come alive;
Take action, and my heart will believe it!
Open your eyes, my love!
You will find me there and see yourself—
resting on these lips like fine wine,
belonging to these open hands,
reflected in my gaze,
knowing that true love endures.
I want you to feel me.
FROSINA TASEVSKA
FROSINA TASEVSKA was born in the Republic of Macedonia. She is a bilingual poet and writer. She writes in English and Macedonian languages. She has authored two solo poetry collections. She is an active member of various literary and creative platforms. Her writings are part of several national and international magazines, newspapers, journals, and anthologies. She has won many awards for her write-ups. She holds the degrees of B.Ed. (English) and currently, works as an educator.
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